Authors: Pamela Tyner
Clint shifted his hand from her back to her waist, pulling
her close to him. She glanced up to see him scowling at her admirer. And her
smile grew even bigger.
They continued toward the table and had just sat down when a
waitress came over to take their order.
Tricia looked up at the woman and smiled widely. “Hello,
Candy. It’s so nice to see you again.”
Her eyes skimmed Candy’s outfit. She wore jean shorts which
were so tight Tricia wondered how she managed to breathe. The cotton tank top,
several sizes too small, stretched snugly over her curves, putting her breasts
prominently on display. The top was tucked into the shorts, emphasizing her
tiny waist. No doubt the outfit increased her tips—from her male customers at
least.
Candy nodded. There was no smile on her lips. “Tricia.”
Candy moved her gaze from Tricia to Clint. Now she smiled.
But it wasn’t the same flirty smile she had given Clint in the department
store. This one was tight and plainly forced.
“What can I get for you?” she asked Clint.
He pushed his hat back on his head and grinned at Candy.
Obviously, that charming smile of his wasn’t working, because her expression
didn’t soften. And it didn’t surprise Tricia in the least that it hadn’t worked,
because when his lips had curved up, all it did was emphasize the lipstick mark
she’d left on the corner of his mouth.
“Two beers,” Clint said.
Candy lifted a brow, cut her gaze to Tricia for a brief
second, and shifted it back to Clint. “Are you sure she should be drinking in
her condition?”
“What?” Tricia asked.
“Well...” Clint’s gaze met hers. “Candy’s friends with Beth.
Beth is the cashier at the drugstore. As a matter of fact, she was working this
morning.”
Now she understood. Beth had been working when Clint had
dragged her into the store to buy that pregnancy test. Apparently, Beth had
informed Candy of the purchase.
“It’s so sweet of you to be concerned, Candy. But it’s safe
to bring me a beer.” She wrapped both her hands around Clint’s arm.
“Unfortunately, the results were negative.” She released a sad sigh. “But we’re
hopeful the next time will be different.”
Without a word Candy disappeared into the crowd. She
returned minutes later with their beers and slammed the bottles down on the
table. Clint gave her a cautious look as he removed his wallet from his back
pocket. He held out some bills, and Candy jerked them from his hand and stalked
off.
Tricia reached for her beer. “Oh, she is mad at you.”
“And you just love that, don’t you?” Clint twisted the cap
off his bottle, tossed in on the table, and leaned back in his chair. “I’m not
worried about it. She’s been mad at me before. She always gets over it. You, on
the other hand...” He tipped his beer in Tricia’s direction. “...should be very
concerned that she’s mad at you.”
“Why would she be mad at me? She doesn’t even know me.”
“I’m sure that doesn’t matter to her.”
Tricia waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “It doesn’t
concern me. I’ll probably never see her again.”
“Maybe not, but tonight you’re both in the same place. And
she’s got some pretty sharp claws.”
Tricia could have argued with him. Logically, it was Clint,
and only Clint, that Candy should be angry with. But Tricia knew women didn’t
tend to think logically when they felt betrayed. Hadn’t she been in a similar
position before—with the very same man? But that situation had been totally
different. Rachel had been her friend.
“Since you’ve assigned yourself the job of my protector, I’m
confident you’ll shield me from her attack.”
He lifted a brow. “You think?”
“Yes, I do. Besides, she may be angry at the moment, but
she’ll thank me for it later. It’s best she learns the truth about you now
before she gets any more involved.”
“And what might that be?”
“That you have a great deal of difficulty managing to keep
your little thing inside your pants where it belongs. And once a cheat, always
a cheat.”
Clint straightened in his seat and stared at her silently,
no doubt absorbing her declaration of him being an addicted cheat. When he
opened his mouth, she expected him to deny it. When he snapped his jaws shut
without saying a word, there was no question in her mind that he realized it
was true. She wondered if he would be man enough to admit it.
“
Little
thing?”
“You know what I mean.” That was hardly the important part
of her speech.
“
Little
thing?” he repeated. “I don’t remember you
complaining.”
Okay, she hadn’t anticipated this conversation, but…
“I was a virgin,” she pointed out. “What did I know about
size?”
“No one has ever complained.”
“I’m sure they haven’t. Women know how sensitive men can be
about this particular subject.” When he simply stared at her with a look of
indignation on his face, she felt somewhat guilty because it wasn’t true at
all. But she shoved the feeling aside and continued to torment him. “You’re
getting touchy. It’s not important, Clint.” She patted his arm. “Size really
doesn’t matter.”
Maybe this wasn’t the type of torture she’d originally had
in mind for him, but she’d always been a flexible girl, she could make
adjustments to the plan when the situation called for it.
“Oh, hell, yeah it…” He stopped in mid-sentence, blew out an
angry breath of air, and then tipped his bottle back to take a long swallow of
beer.
They sat in silence, Clint steaming and Tricia struggling to
keep the smile off her lips. She turned her attention to the stage. The band
was small, consisting of only four members, but they were good.
The lead singer glanced their way. A black Stetson covered
dark brown hair that brushed the collar of his shirt. His well-shaped mouth was
surrounded by a neatly trimmed mustache and goatee. Although lean, there
appeared to be an ample supply of muscles under his tan shirt and blue jeans.
It all combined to make an attractive package.
And it was obvious the man was born to be on the stage. His
smile, the way he held himself, emitted a confidence that a woman could see a
mile away. That, combined with the good looks and incredible voice, no doubt
drew women to him like magnets.
He nodded toward them in greeting and shot a wink in
Tricia’s direction.
She turned toward Clint to ask if that was his friend and
saw that he had finished his beer and was motioning to Candy to bring two more.
“We don’t need two,” Tricia told him. “I’ve barely gotten
started on mine.”
“They’re both for me,” he growled.
“Oh.” Tricia turned her face to the side to hide the smirk
on her lips.
Damned if the woman hadn’t pushed him too far this time. She
was having a grand ol’ time at his expense. Clint leaned back in his chair and
studied Tricia’s expression. Nothing in the world would make him happier than
to erase that smirk from her pretty face. He took a swig of his beer and
contemplated how best to accomplish the task.
Then he smiled.
If Tricia was so eager to give the impression they were
lovers, maybe he should help her with the charade. It might prove to be very
enjoyable. And if he played his cards right, she’d be the one squirming for a
change.
Pulling his chair as close as he could get to hers, he
draped his arm over her shoulder. Her body stiffened, and she squared her
shoulders. The movement caused her breasts to thrust forward, offering him a
nice view of her cleavage. Unable to resist, he took a moment to appreciate the
sight before dragging his gaze away. He felt Tricia tense even further when he
began to stroke her shoulder. A gentle stroke—like a lover’s caress.
She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. He was quite
pleased to note the smirk had disappeared. In its place was a hardened,
distrustful expression.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she hissed.
He leaned close to her ear. When she jerked her head away,
he simply followed. “You’re the one who started this little game,” he
whispered. “I’m just trying to help you play it.”
“That’s very kind, but I wouldn’t want you to put yourself
out.”
“It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.”
“How generous. But it’s really not—”
“David’s headed this way. Let’s look happy.”
He took her hand and planted it on his thigh. Not satisfied
with the position of it, he moved it higher until it reached the junction of
his leg. She tried to pull away, but he held it firmly in place.
“Pervert,” she said between clenched teeth.
His smile only seemed to irritate her further. Good.
“Hey, Clint, Tricia. Glad to see you made it.”
Tricia gave him a small smile. “Hello, David. It’s good to
see you again.” Her voice was steady, and Clint wondered if the fact David
wasn’t in uniform made her feel a little more at ease.
He might need to keep that information in mind. It could
come in useful. If he could convince Tricia to talk to David, it might be a
little easier for her if he wasn’t in uniform.
“How’s it going, David?” Clint asked. “Doesn’t look like the
hecklers are too bad tonight.”
“They all stayed away when they heard I was going to be
here. Afraid I might arrest them for disturbing the peace.”
At the word
arrest
Tricia’s hand gripped his thigh.
From the corner of his eyes, Clint saw her gaze dart nervously away toward the
stage. He placed his hand on her back and rubbed it reassuringly.
David gave Clint an amused grin. “You look like you’ve been
branded.”
“What?”
Tricia looked at him and smiled. “You got a little smudge of
lipstick.” She touched the corner of his mouth lightly with her finger. “Right
there.”
The kiss outside the building flashed in Clint’s mind, and
he agreed with David, he had indeed been branded. Grabbing the napkin from
under his beer bottle, Clint rubbed at the spot.
Candy rushed by the table carrying a tray of beers, and,
although there was ample room for her to pass, somehow she managed to shove
against David as she moved by. All three of them watched Candy as she stalked
away without so much as an
excuse me
.
“So, Tricia,” David said, returning his gaze to her. “Have
you met Candy?”
“Yes. Nice girl.”
“Mmm-hmm. I imagine the two of you got along wonderfully.”
“Oh, I’m sure that any day now she’ll be inviting me to join
her for a girls’ night out,” Tricia muttered.
In the background, the music stopped, and Jack announced the
band would be taking a short break. Several minutes later, he arrived at their
table carrying four bottles of beer.
“Hey, Clint. You haven’t been in here in forever. When I saw
you I was so shocked I almost fell off the stage.”
Right. Jack had greeted them without missing a single beat
in the song. “Well, now, that would have been entertaining,” Clint said.
Jack passed out the beers, then grabbed an empty chair from
a neighboring table, turned it around, and straddled it.
“Pull up a chair and make yourself right at home, Jack,”
Clint told him.
Jack laughed. “Thanks. I will.”
David glanced at the beer Jack had shoved in his hand, then
sat the bottle on the table in front of Jack. “Jack always buys me a beer,” he
told Tricia. “Because I don’t drink. That way he gets to drink the beer and
comes out looking like a nice guy for buying me one. Don’t let it fool you.”
“Damn, tell her all my secrets, why don’t you?” Jack grinned
at Tricia and tipped his hat. “Ma’am. I’m Jack Warren. You must be Tricia.”
“Yes. It’s nice to meet you,” she replied with a smile. Her
gaze went from Jack to David, then back to Jack again. “Same last name. Are you
brothers?”
“I would deny it, but since David’s standing here…” He let
the words trail off. “David told me some outrageous story involving the two of
you and a poker game. Damn shame I wasn’t playing in that game. Clint can’t
bluff worth a damn, I always beat him. If I had been there, I would have won
the pot and you wouldn’t be stuck with him. And you clearly deserve someone
better—like me.”
Clint narrowed his eyes and shoved Jack’s chair with his
foot. “Go away, Jack.”
Jack ignored Clint’s suggestion. “What I want to know is
where was this game? Next time I want to be in on it.”
“Too late,” Clint replied. “It was a once-in-a-lifetime
opportunity, and you missed out. Now, get out of here and leave us alone.”
“Clint.” Jack removed his Stetson and placed it over his
heart in a gesture of mock insult. “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you were
trying to get rid of me.”
“I am. I thought I’d made that pretty clear. Don’t you have
to go sing some more?”
“Nah.” He plopped the hat back on his head. “I’ve got a few
more minutes.”
“Then go visit the guys at the bar.”
“You’re letting David stay,” Jack protested.
“I don’t have to worry about David, because he’s not
flirting with Tricia.”
Jack glanced at David, who had been standing quietly,
observing the other patrons of the bar. “You hear that, bro? Clint’s not
worried about you. Guess he doesn’t consider you to be competition like me.”
“Uh-huh,” David replied absently, his gaze riveted toward
the bar. “I’ve got to go. See you guys later.”
David strode across the room, stopping to talk to a pretty
blonde named Emily. He smiled, she laughed, and then David sat down on the
empty stool beside her.
Clint looked at Jack. “I didn’t know the two of them had
hooked up.”
Jack glanced over his shoulder at the bar briefly. “It’s not
official yet, but apparently she’s pretty fascinated with his handcuffs.”
“Is that so?” Clint murmured.
Jack nodded, grinned. “Yep. I went to his office the other
day and found her sitting in a chair with handcuffs on. David had gone into the
back for something, and she found his extra pair and was playing with them.” He
shook his head. “I almost had her convinced he probably wouldn’t take them off.
But, of course, he did. The minute he walked into the room he took one look,
glared at me like he thought
I’d
done it, then whipped out the key, and
ordered me to leave.” He looked over at Tricia with a sad sigh. “People are
always ordering me to leave. Makes me feel so…so…unwanted.”
Hell, the next thing you know he’s going to start wiping
tears from his eyes.
“You poor thing,” Tricia replied, her voice full of
sympathy. She leaned forward and patted his hand.
Clint glanced over to see her eyes sparkling with amusement.
This was not going as planned. She was not squirming. She was having fun. And
with Jack of all people. He went through women like a drunk went through beers.
Her lips lifted into a smile, and she tossed her head,
flipping her hair over her shoulder.
Good God, she’s flirting with him!
Clint reached for Tricia’s arm and tugged her hand away from
Jack. The hand that had been laying on his thigh. When had she moved it? He
slid his fingers in between hers. “Maybe I should ask David if we can borrow
that extra pair of handcuffs he has.”
She turned toward him, her brow wrinkled in confusion. “Why
would we need…” She gasped, her eyes widening. An adorable pink blush crept
over her cheeks.
With a great deal of effort, Clint managed to contain his
smile until she had looked away.
Jack coughed, but it did a poor job of disguising his
chuckle. “It’s time for me to get back. You got a request for a song?”
“Something slow,” Clint replied.
“Gonna do a little belt buckle polishing, eh?” Jack stood,
tipping his hat at Tricia once again. “It was a real pleasure meeting you,
ma’am. I hope I’ll be seeing more of you.” He winked at her and slapped Clint
on the back. “I’ll be sure to ask David if he’ll loan you those cuffs.”
Tricia took a drink of her beer as she watched Jack walk to
the stage. “He seems like a nice guy, real friendly.”
“Yeah, he’s a saint,” Clint muttered, unable to mask the
sarcasm in his tone.
When the band began playing again, Clint tugged on Tricia’s
hand. “Let’s dance.”
She shook her head. “It’s been so long since I’ve danced I
doubt I remember how.”
“Sure you do. You used to love to dance. You’re great at
it.”
“No.”
“Well, since I want to dance, and you don’t, the only fair
thing to do—” Releasing her hand, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a
quarter. “—is to flip for it. If I win, you dance with me.”
“And if I win?”
“Then I won’t ask you again for the rest of the night.” At
her skeptical expression, he added, “You’ve got a fifty-fifty chance of
winning. That’s not bad odds.”
She considered it for a few seconds and nodded.
“Heads I win, tails you lose.” He flipped the coin, snatched
it in mid-air, and turned it over on the table. He looked up at her with a
smile. “Tails...you lose.”
He grabbed her hand, tugged her up, and led her to the
middle of the dance floor. Both of his hands circled her waist, and she placed
hers very lightly on his shoulders. Other than that their bodies didn’t touch.
There was at least a foot of space between them...until he pulled her closer.
When their bodies slammed up against each other, she drew in a sharp breath.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yes. You just startled me.”
It had been a long time, an eternity it seemed, since he’d
held her. As they swayed to the music, he lost himself in the glorious
sensation of her warm, soft body pressed against his.
When the song ended, Tricia pushed against his shoulders and
tried to pull away, but he tightened his grip and held her in place.
“The song’s over,” she pointed out.
“Another one will start any second.”
“The deal was you won, you got one dance.”
“No, it wasn’t,” he whispered against her ear. “The deal was
I won, you dance with me. There was no mention of how many dances.”
She pulled back and glared at him. “You are sneaky.”
He wondered when, or if, she’d figure out there was no way
he would have lost that coin toss. “Besides, by the time we got out here the
song was half over, so actually, we haven’t even had one full dance.”
“One more. That’s it.”
“Uh-huh.” He slid his hands over her back. “You’re so tense.
Relax.” He nuzzled her neck, his lips almost touching her skin, and smiled at
the scent of roses. “You still wear the same perfume.”
“I’m surprised you remember my perfume.”
“I remember everything about you. For example, I remember
all the places you spray that perfume. Here.” He trailed a finger across a spot
right beneath her ear. “Here.” He rubbed his thumb over her wrist. “And…” He
separated their bodies a few inches and glanced down at her cleavage.
“Don’t even think about it,” she warned.
With a chuckle he pulled her against his body again. “I
remember it all. I know all the places you like to be touched, and I know how
you like to be touched in each of those places. There’s a spot right behind
your knee, and if I lick it, your whole body starts to quiver.”
“You need to stop.”
He lifted a shoulder. “Just trying to make conversation,
honey.”
“There’s no need to talk. We’re supposed to be dancing. And
don’t call me honey.”
“All right,
darlin’
. You know, I’m perfectly capable
of dancing and talking at the same time. Now, let’s see, where was I? Oh yeah,
things that make Tricia quiver.”
“Don’t do this,” she whispered.
“Well now, darlin’, I’m sure it’s not affecting you. After
all, you hate me. You told me so yourself. There’s nothing I can ever do or say
that’s going to penetrate that brick wall you’ve built between us.”
“That’s right.”
“So, back to the conversation at hand. I remember how you
loved it when I—”
She huffed out a breath of air. “Is there anything you
remember about me that’s not sexual?”
He smiled. “Sure. You hate snobby people.”
“And people who are sneaky,” she interjected.
“Yeah, that too. Your biggest dream was to get out of
Lexington. You practically counted down the days until you could leave.”
“I left all right,” she muttered. “And ended up right back
there.”
Not only had college, a career, and a life outside of a town
so small it didn’t even have a stoplight been Tricia’s dream, it had been her
parents’ dream for her too. One they were determined to protect. One they were
convinced Clint would destroy.
Clint remembered very vividly the last conversation he’d had
with Tricia’s father. The man had shown up at his apartment one day and
proceeded to explain to Clint exactly how he was going to wreck Tricia’s life.
By the end of the conversation, Clint had been so angry he wanted to punch the
man. But through it all, Tricia’s father had remained calm, rational, logical,
and infuriatingly polite.