Tempting Texas

by Kimberly Raye

  She wanted more.

  Everything.

  * * *

  A truth that haunted her as she made her way out to watch Brody and his brothers start on the renovation to the kitchen. They’d finished the electrical and the plumbing and were starting room by room with the upgrades. Today was the new cabinet installation and she wanted to see how the dark cherry looked against the new countertops. It looked great, but the site didn’t fill her with even the slightest excitement. Not with Hunter still heavy on her mind and her feelings for him swimming down deep.

  She’d wanted so desperately to take him up on his offer, to pick up where they’d left off with the physical and feel him at least one more time.

  She didn’t just want sex.

  But he did.

  He’d never said one word otherwise.

  Instead, he’d simply stood there in front of her motel room long after she’d gone inside.

  While she might have fallen in love with him, he wasn’t in love with her.

  Which was fine.

  Really.

  She didn’t need Hunter DeMassi anyway. She had her house and her property. Plenty of room to build an extra structure and start her own equine center.

  In due time.

  Her money was invested in the renovation right now, but it was just a matter of keeping her nose to the grindstone. She had to keep going. Fighting.

  As for Hunter …

  He was back at work, back doing a job that kept him going but didn’t feed the passion inside of him. He loved horses, too, he just wouldn’t let himself give in to the emotion. Act on it.

  Not with the wild broncs, and not with her. He was stuck, just as Clara had been, and like his great-grandmother, he was going to stick it out. To endure instead of living.

  Jenna wasn’t falling into the same trap. She was living for herself. Really and truly living.

  If she didn’t drop dead of a heart attack first.

  She clutched her chest and stared at the familiar man standing in her front yard.

  “Chuck?” She eyed the black leather pants and sleeveless vest. “What are you wearing?”

  “You said you wanted something different, Jenna. Something more bad ass. Well, here I am.”

  “I didn’t mean I wanted you to be different,” she started, but he held up a hand.

  “I know what you want. You want a man to take charge.” He crossed the distance to her. “Well, that’s what I’m doing.” And then he ducked, his shoulder catching her in the middle as he tossed her over his shoulder.

  “Let me down right now.” She pounded his back, but it only seemed to make him that much more determined. “I mean it, Chuck. This is crazy.”

  “Crazy wild,” he said as he strode toward a black Jeep with temporary tags. “The rental car place didn’t have a motorcycle, so I had to settle for this. But I’ve applied for a loan with my credit union. As soon as I get the approval, I’m heading to Austin and the nearest Harley dealership.”

  “Go wherever you want, but put me down first.”

  “Sorry, but us strong, alpha males take charge.”

  “I mean it. Put me down right now or you’ll be sorry.”

  “No can do.”

  “I mean it…” she started, pounding harder, but the deep voice drowned her out.

  “You heard the lady. Put her down.” Hunter’s deep voice echoed in her ears and she twisted, catching a glimpse of his uniform-clad body just a few feet away.

  “Of course, Sheriff.” Chuck let go and she slid to the ground like a sack. “We were just role playing. You know how couples do.”

  “Is that what you’re doing?”

  “Exactly. See, Jenna, here, likes a more take-charge kind of guy so I ordered a few things on Leatherup.com and here I am.”

  “How do you know what Jenna likes?” Jealousy burned hot and bright in his gaze and a strange sense of hope spread through Jenna. As if he really and truly did love her.

  But then that wasn’t the problem. It was him admitting his feelings. Acting on them.

  “I do like a more take-charge kind of guy,” Jenna cut in, climbing to her feet. “I like a man who isn’t afraid to be himself.”

  “But I did that,” Chuck started.

  “Not you,” she told the man before turning to Hunter. “I’m talking to you.” She planted her hands on her hips and eyed him. “You’re afraid.”

  The declaration made his frown that much deeper and unease zapped her. But she’d already opened her mouth and the real Jenna, the one she’d been trying to change for the past few months, wasn’t about to shut up.

  “You’re afraid to love me. To love anything. Because you’re afraid if you do, then no one will love you.”

  “You talk too much, you know that?”

  “Guilty as charged, Sheriff. But that still doesn’t change anything. You’re afraid, but you don’t have to be.”

  “Really? And why is that?”

  “Because I love you anyway.”

  He didn’t say anything for a long moment. Instead, he simply stared at her before he finally opened his mouth and murmured, “It’s not about being afraid. It’s about keeping a promise.” He turned then and walked away.

  And she knew this time he wasn’t coming back.

  * * *

  He was nipping this in the bud right now.

  That’s what Hunter told himself as he headed to City Hall to file his papers for the next election. He’d made his choices and while he wasn’t all that happy with them at the moment, a man had to keep his word and do the right thing.

  That’s what Hunter told himself, he just wasn’t so sure he believed it anymore. Because he’d changed.

  He didn’t feel so indifferent inside. So contained. So suppressed.

  He felt, period. And that was good. Useless, but good.

  Hunter pulled into the parking lot and walked into the lobby.

  The soft voice sounded directly behind him and he turned to see Jenna standing in the doorway.

  She wore a Giddy Up T-shirt tucked into a fitted black miniskirt that hugged her in all the right places. But it wasn’t the outfit that stalled the air in his lungs. It was the gleam in her eyes.

  “I told you this isn’t going to work,” he managed, despite a suddenly dry throat.

  “I know what you said, but you’re full of shit. It can work. That’s what really scares you. Not the notion of failing, but that you might be happy. Too happy, and you don’t think you deserve to be happy because your brother’s the one who deserves to be here. Not you. That’s what you really think, isn’t it? What eats at you. Why him and not you?”

  “It should have been me,” he said, the feelings pushing and pulling and finally boiling over so fiercely that he couldn’t keep the lid on them a moment more. “I was always pushing the limits, climbing on the back of a bronc, living like there was no tomorrow. I was only thinking about myself, but my brother spent his life thinking about other people. That’s admirable. That’s deserving. He deserved to live, not me.”

  “That’s not your call, don’t you know that? That’s life, and death. We don’t get to pick the latter, but we can damn sure make the most of the former. We have to deal with what we’re dealt. He’s not here for whatever reason, but you are and you can’t keep punishing yourself because of that. You’re here, Hunter, and that’s okay.”

  It was.

  Hunter realized that as he saw her staring up at him, her eyes full of gratitude because unlike his folks who couldn’t see past their own pain, she could and she saw him. The real man. The good. And the bad.

  And she loved him anyway.

  “It doesn’t change anything,” he told her.

  “Because you don’t love me,” she stated. “That’s it, isn’t it? I convinced myself on the drive over here that you didn’t say the words because maybe, just maybe you were as scared as I was, but that’s not it, is it? You don’t feel the same.”

  “No, I meant that I already filed my
paperwork. I’m on the ticket.”

  “Oh.” The truth seemed to hit her and a grin curved her beautiful lips. “Well, then, I guess we’ll have to see what we can do about losing this election, Sheriff.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Well, you’re going to be much too busy helping with my horses and teaching down at the rodeo arena to have any time left over for law and order. That means we’ll have to do whatever’s necessary to make sure you’re not expected to keep the peace.” She stepped up to him then, her hand going to his chest. “I think a little lewd and lascivious behavior smack-dab in front of the courthouse is a good start, don’t you?”

  And then she kissed him with a fierceness that had people gasping and gossiping.

  Unease rushed through him, followed by a sense of joy so profound that he knew he could never turn and walk away from her. Not now. Not twenty years from now. Not ever.

  What’s more, he didn’t want to walk away.

  It was time to stop pretending. Time to love someone. To trust someone enough to let them love him.

  A strange sense of peace stole through him, and for the first time in a long time, he didn’t give a lick who was watching him or what they thought.

  “I do love you.” He said the words he’d felt for so long but had refused to admit. “More than anything.”

  Her panic faded into a look of pure delight as she broke the kiss and pulled away. “Does that mean you’re up to joining forces and raising some horses together?”

  He grinned and tightened his hold on her. “’Til death do us part, baby. ’Til death do us part.”

  “That sounds like a proposal more than a job offer.”

  His grin faded as he stared deep into her eyes. “Will you marry me, Jenna, and make me the happiest man alive?”

  “I will,” she murmured. “I do.” And then she kissed him and left no doubt in his mind that she meant every word.

  EPILOGUE

  “I must be seeing things.” Hunter DeMassi’s voice carried across the flower-filled courtyard that sat between the Rebel First Presbyterian Church and the massive reception hall behind it. “I can’t believe it. You came.”

  Gator Hallsey closed the few yards that separated them, his polished black cowboy boots clattering on the stone walkway. “I said I would, didn’t I?” And Gator always kept his word.

  At least where Hunter was concerned.

  It didn’t matter that he hadn’t been inside of a church since his grandmother, God rest her soul, had toted him to Sunday school when he’d been barely knee-high. Or that he was about to stand up in front of a roomful of people that included the entire Rebel County Sheriff’s office and several bigwigs from Austin. Feds even, judging by the cluster of black SUVs situated in the parking lot.

  He ignored the sense of unease that rolled through him and gave Hunter a wink. “I can’t let you get hitched without a Best Man, now can I?”

  “Thanks, man.” Hunter clapped him on the shoulder just as a middle-aged woman rushed up, a single red rose in one hand and a lethal-looking stickpin in the other.

  “Is this him?” Mabel Leroy Tucker asked.

  “The one and only.” Hunter grinned.

  “We thought you weren’t coming.” Mabel grimaced as she stepped up in front of Gator. “I specifically told everyone in the bridal party to be here a half hour early.”

  “Gator’s here against his will,” Hunter offered. “He’s not a big believer when it comes to matrimony.”

  “Nonsense,” Mabel muttered. “Matrimony is the most wonderful thing in the world.” She grasped the black satin lapel of the tuxedo coat that he wore with a pair of starched Wranglers and a stiff white dress shirt.

  He ignored the urge to tug at the collar.

  At least Hunter hadn’t forced him into a complete monkey suit. He and Jenna had wanted a country wedding and so they’d let the groomsmen keep their jeans and boots and, as far as Gator was concerned, their dignity.

  As much as any man could muster with the bridal march blaring in his ears.

  “Hold still,” she murmured, coming at him with the pearl-tipped straight pin. “There.” She smoothed his jacket and straightened his collar for a split second before responding to something someone said over the Bluetooth hooked over her ear. “No, no,” she shrieked, nearly splintering his eardrum. “The rose petals are for the flower girl. Do not sprinkle them on the cake table. They’ll clash with the sugar flowers on the cake…” Her voice trailed off as she shook her head and turned on her heel. “No, no, no. Don’t give her the flower basket yet. She’s only three years old. They’ll be all over the ground before the processional even starts. Or worse. Remember the flower girl at the Canyon-Guthrie wedding? She ate them like popcorn. We had to take her to the ER to get her stomach pumped smack-dab in the middle of the reception. Just hold onto it. I’m coming. I’ll get her situated in the wagon and then we’ll hand her the basket. Five minutes,” she called over her shoulder to Hunter and Gator. “The reverend will signal when it’s time.” And then she disappeared through the side door that led into the main sanctuary.

  “You sure about this?” Gator asked, stepping up to his old friend.

  He and Hunter had been inseparable back in the day, before Hunter’s brother had died and he’d traded in his wicked ways in favor of civic duty.

  “Are you kidding? I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” He turned and stared through the side window of the church, at the bridal party milling about in the foyer.

  His attention fixed solely on the woman in white. Jenna Tucker did make one hell of a vision in a fitted white dress. One that quickly ducked back behind a massive fern when she caught Gator looking in at her.

  “You know it’s my duty as your best man to make sure you realize what you’re getting into.”

  “Actually, it’s your duty to get me to the altar no matter what.”

  “Maybe. But it’s my duty as your friend to lead the way should you want to make a fast getaway. This is the real deal, man. No going back.” Gator’s gaze went to Callie Tucker Sawyer, the matron of honor, who wore a fitted red dress that matched the red rose bouquet in her hand and accented the baby growing inside of her. She was due any time now by the looks of her and thrilled to death if the smile on her face was any indication. She held tight to her husband, Brett, who wore the same get-up as Gator. Next to them stood Brandy Tucker McCall, matron of honor number two, and her groomsman husband, Tyler.

  Both men had sown their own wild oats back in the day and so Gator had crossed paths with them many times over the years.

  But not lately.

  They’d settled down with the Tucker sisters and while Gator, himself, would sooner kick his own ass than waltz down the aisle, he had to admit that both men looked extremely happy.

  As happy as the groom.

  Yeah, right.

  Their cat’s-got-the-canary expressions were no doubt due to the mason jars filled with Texas Thunder Tea, a blend of the infamous Sawyer-Tucker moonshine now being distributed by Foggy Bottom Distillers and Miss Mabel’s sweet Texas tea. The ribbon-wrapped jars were being handed out as a signature cocktail to the guests who mingled in the nearby garden area before heading inside for the ceremony. No doubt both men had downed a few pints in preparation for the hot-as-hell tuxedo jackets.

  Gator wished he’d arrived a few minutes sooner and grabbed a jar of his own. Maybe then he wouldn’t be so antsy, as if he were the one about to hang up his precious bachelor card. But then he’d been hard-pressed to get here in the nick of time after this last run from Houston.

  He’d delivered a trunkful of premium hooch to a golf pro who lived in River Oaks. A man who could have easily bought his liquor through the proper channels.

  But that wasn’t nearly as much fun.

  There was something taboo about hooking up with a bootlegger and buying a jug of pure liquid fire. Or so Jeff Something-or-other had told him when he’d made his delivery.
/>   It was all about the novelty of it.

  Luckily there were plenty still fascinated with the old school art of shine to keep Gator and his two partners hauling butt six days out of seven.

  “You ought to think about slowing down yourself,” Hunter told him, as if noting the exhaustion tugging at his muscles.

  He grinned. “Plenty of time for that when I’m six feet under. Besides, with you stepping down as sheriff to help Jenna with her horses, I was actually thinking about expanding my business.” He winked. “No more conflict of interest.”

  Hunter grinned. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Bobby isn’t likely to look the other way now that he’s wearing the badge.”

  “Bobby’s not nearly fast enough to catch me and you damn well know it.”

  “Maybe not now, but everybody has to slow down eventually.” Hunter’s eyes gleamed. “Settle down. Even the infamous Gator Hallsey.”

  Gator wasn’t sure why the words suddenly bothered him. Sure, at thirty-four he was getting older. But he was still as fast as he’d ever been. Faster even.

  As for settling down …

  He’d yet to meet a woman hot enough, sweet enough, to make him want to hang up his hat and kick off his boots for anything longer than a one-night stand.

  “You might be snapping on the old ball and chain, but don’t try to take me down with you. I like being single.”

  “That’s what I used to say, but then I met Jenna. Speaking of meeting someone, Bobby’s got this friend. Her name’s Kaitlyn,” Hunter started, but then the side door opened and Thomas Rhett’s “Die a Happy Man” drifted from inside.

  “It’s time,” said the reverend who ducked out and motioned to Hunter.

  Thankfully.

  Because the last thing Gator wanted was to hear Hunter DeMassi, his old running buddy, suggest a fix-up.

  Gator Hallsey liked being single. Hell, he loved it.

  Then again, his buddy sure as hell did look happy.

  The notion struck and instead of grabbing Hunter’s arm and hauling him the other way, he clapped him on the back and smiled. “Let’s go get you married, buddy.”