Two Cowboys in Her Crosshairs [Hellfire Ranch] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (12 page)

“When I find out, I’ll let you know.”

Hudson stood. “I’m going to take my medicine and go to bed.”

Jake nodded. “I’ll check on you in the morning.”

“Jake?”

He looked up.

“There’s something between two you a blind man could see. You should do something about that.” Hudson emptied the last of his beer. His face was half covered in the shadow of the porch, but Jake felt his intense stare. “I told her to trust you, and now I’m telling you the same thing. She saved your life once. She might again.”

Hudson disappeared into the house.

Jake continued to sip his beer and listen to the sounds of the ranch. Normally they soothed him and helped him wind down from a long day punching cows. But tonight the cicadas just weren’t working. The restlessness that ate him had nothing to do with tired muscles and next-day planning.

Inside the house, he chunked his bottle in the recycling bin, made a pot of coffee for the morning, and flicked off the kitchen light. Four would come early, and he needed to get to sleep himself.

He passed through the dining room and paused before slowly turning. The shards were strewn along the table, dully staring up at him. Sand littered the dull clay, and he drew a swirl in the grains.

Why had Shag been killed? And how in the hell did he come to possess the statue?

Jake pulled out a chair, sat down, and eased the pieces toward him. He picked each up and studied it carefully.

He fitted them together, but they kept falling apart. A shard slipped and sliced the top of his finger. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered. He clamped the skin tight and went to the sink to rinse off the blood. After a few moments it slowed.

Jake stood at the sink and stared out the window into the dark night. What was he missing? Why was it so familiar?

His gut screamed the truth at him. But it was a truth he wanted to ignore. He opened the sink door and found a bottle of white glue. He dabbed a bit on his cut then returned to the dining room.

He picked up a piece of clay, applied the glue, and slapped another piece against it. He held them together until the glue dried enough to hold then repeated the process until the statue was mostly whole once more.

His hands shook as he set it down. Jake clutched the edge of the table and closed his eyes on a curse.

“Lord, don’t let me be right,” he whispered. But he knew he was.

“Right about what?”

Jake spun at Hudson’s question and jostled the table. The statue teetered and tipped over. It splintered into several more pieces.

“Damn,” he muttered.

But he didn’t need it whole. He knew exactly why the statue had been so familiar.

“Jake?”

He tried to calm his racing heart and amped senses. “I remember.”

Hudson ambled into the room, hitching his blue pajama bottoms up as he did. His green eyes were sharp. “Doesn’t look like you’re too happy about it.”

“I’m not,” Jake rasped. “Because that means a lot more people could be in danger. Including Olivia.”

Hudson stiffened. “Why?”

“Shag was killed for having the statue even though he didn’t understand the significance. Whoever did it must know he sent it off. If he’s tracking the piece he’ll end up finding Olivia. And she won’t have a clue danger is coming.”

“We need to warn her. I’ll get my cell.”

“No.”

Hudson stopped in midturn and lifted a honey brow. “No we’re not going to tell her? Are you fucking nuts?” he snarled.

Jake raised his palm. “No cell phone. I’ll go into town and tell her myself.”

Hudson studied him for a long moment then he sighed. “Don’t suppose you’ll let me come with you?”

Jake’s glance slid away. “No, I need to do this alone.” He was trying to determine just how much he would or should tell her. The last thing he needed was Hudson tossing in his nickel’s worth of opinions.

Besides, this was squad business.

“All right. She’s in room 115. Back row, last unit on the right.”

Jake nodded his thanks, scooped the pieces and glue back into the box, and shoved it at Hudson. “Find a safe place for this. It’s going to have to go back to Washington, and I don’t want Janice trashing it.”

“Yeah, good point. That woman tosses everything. Hell, she even threw out my favorite Little League baseball bat.”

Jake frowned. “The one you got a home run on?”

“Yep. Can you believe it? I had to dig it out of the garbage. She had it stuck under a mound of coffee grounds and egg shells. But I rescued it. Stashed it in the one place I know she won’t look.”

“Under the couch?”

Hudson grinned. “Yep. Ever since that scorpion nicked her, she hates that thing. She’ll stick the vacuum underneath, but she’s not doing much else.”

Jake chuckled as he headed for the back door. “Why did she throw it away?”

“Ah, it’s got a crack. She said it was trashed and no sense keeping it. I swear, that woman’s sense of nostalgia is no bigger than testicles on a gnat.”

Jake plucked his hat from the peg and settled it on his head. “She’s the best housekeeper we’ve ever had, even if she only comes in once a week. She’s got a good heart, Hudson.”

“If black is the new good.”

He smiled again. His friend was attempting to ease his tension with his banter. Damned if it didn’t work, too. He lifted a hand. “I’ll be back later.”

“I’m hitting the hay. Damn medicine makes me feel loonier than a Saturday-morning cartoon.” He paused. “Jake, be careful.”

“Will do.”

The drive to town would take the usual half hour. Nothing was close when you lived out in the sticks like they did. He didn’t mind though. Space was definitely something he had needed when he came home.

Jake rolled down the windows and let the May evening breeze roll over him. The scent of hay mixed with wildflowers clung to each air particle and filled his soul. An orange-and-purple sky faded to twinkling cobalt as the sun set. The blacktop ahead stretched dark and empty as he headed into town.

He passed Deputy Wallace parked on the side of the road near the turnoff for the interstate. He was asleep in his car, slumped back with his hat covering his eyes.

Jake chuckled as he passed by. Tag would kick the kid’s ass if he saw that.

He downshifted and eased off the gas as his turn approached. The truck bounced on gravel for a yard before it met the rough concrete parking lot in front of the Calico Queen. The lights in the manager’s office were dim, but a bright yellow Open sign flashed in the window.

Whitcombe was probably glued to his television. He loved those British shows because they reminded him of home.

The Queen was built in a U with the original building set at the front where Whitty kept his office. Behind it were the two buildings that actually housed the units of the motel. The Brit did a booming business due to the near-constant influx of wedding parties combined with the history of the place. Who knew everyone would want to stay in a once-infamous bordello?

Jake drove around to the back of the motel and followed Hudson’s directions to Olivia’s room. Six cars littered the lot.

Seeing as how there were no weddings planned at the Hitching Post for another four days, he wasn’t surprised by the lack of cars.

Jake parked beneath a blown-out lamp just past her unit and on the opposite side of her SUV. He locked the car but didn’t chirp the alarm. No sense alerting everyone to his presence.

As he walked across the parking lot, a sound skittered from his left. He jerked around, half-crouched, and stared into the dense trees.

He couldn’t make out anything or anyone. It must have been an armadillo or possum.

He found her room and listened at the door. Low, muted laughter came from inside, but it sounded distant and canned. The laughter cut off abruptly and was replaced by the swell of an orchestra followed by an explosion and then someone trying to sing.

Jake knocked on the door.

The television silenced.

He knocked again. “Livvie, it’s Jake.”

The chain rattled, there was a thump against the wood and the deadbolt turned over. Then she twisted the knob and opened the door.

“Jake? Is everything okay?”

He swallowed hard and nodded. She was wearing dark-green boxer shorts and a camo wifebeater. Both miniscule bits of clothing showed off her tanned and toned body. God, he’d forgotten how long and lean her legs were.

The last time he’d seen them bare he’d been balls-deep in her sweet warmth.

“Jake?” She flattened her palm to his chest and stared up at him with wide, concerned eyes.

He shook himself from the stupor. “Hey.”

She blinked and frowned. “Hi.”

“Can I come in?”

Her dark-brown gaze studied him sharply, searching his face for something he couldn’t begin to guess at. Finally, she dropped her arm and stepped back. “Sure.”

He stepped in and looked around. The small room had a brown laminate dresser which held a television so old it had probably broadcast the first moon landing. A conical black lampshade swayed drunkenly on a tan base on a desk near the door. Orange curtains hung limply over the window and barely filtered out any light. He avoided looking at the bed. Instead, he spied a darkened doorway and figured it was the bathroom. There was a thump behind him, and he turned. She had shoved a wooden chair beneath the doorknob and was testing it for stability.

“Expecting company?”

She shrugged. “Never hurts to be prepared.”

She stood in the middle of the tired room, her bare toes digging into the weathered orange carpet. When she crossed her arms and tilted her chin back, he knew she was on the defensive.

“I guess you’re wondering why I’m here.”

“Yep.”

He raked a hand through his hair. “It’s complicated.”

A ghost of a smile chased across her lush lips as she raised her shoulders. “As someone once told me—uncomplicate it.”

“Yeah, I’ll try. I don’t think you’re going to like this much, though.”

“Why not?” She moved from the center of the room to the edge of the bed and sat down. The only chair in the room was shoved under the brass doorknob. She patted the space next to her.

“Sit down or I’ll get a crick in my neck.”

His eyes roamed over the red-and-black-striped comforter and up to the two pillows nestled together at the head of the bed. Instant images of her butt spooned against him like that burned through him. His heart rate increased as his cock once more roared to life.

“That might not be such a good idea,” he said hoarsely.

In the silent blip that followed she pursed her lips, leaned back on her elbows, and wiggled a brow. “So you didn’t come here to seduce me?”

He nearly choked on his own spit. “No.”

“Too bad.”

Jake groaned. “Knock it off, Martinez.”

She bounded upward, her breasts swaying beneath the green top. She poked him in the chest. “I’m not your underling anymore, Jake. You don’t get to toss orders at me, and I sure as hell don’t have to obey them.”

Her soft jasmine scent hit his nose and very nearly set him off. “I know that,” he bit out. He cupped her shoulders, intending only to set her away and out of temptation’s reach.

She caught his hands and wouldn’t let go. She stared up at him. “What do you want, Jake?”

You
.

Her eyes widened.

“Shit. I said that out loud, didn’t I?”

A tremor hit her bottom lip before she clamped her teeth over it. “Yes,” she whispered. “Want to take it back?”

Jake stepped closer and eased his hands from beneath hers. He cupped the base of her neck and caressed her skin with his thumbs. She was soft and supple. Olivia swayed, and he tightened his grip. He looked into her deep-brown eyes and smiled. “What do you think?”

He lowered his head, but her fingers covered his mouth.

“Tell me,” she demanded. “Tell me what you want, Jake. That it’s not just guilt that brought you here.”

“No,” he said. “It’s not guilt. I want you, Olivia. I always have.” He slid his hands down her back and cupped her firm ass. He pulled her to his hard and ready cock. “Once was not enough.”

* * * *

Jake’s words poured over her frayed nerves like sweet nectar. Olivia stroked his bottom lip. “I have so ached for you.”

His nostrils flared, and she saw the flash of need deep in his sapphire eyes. “Olivia,” he whispered. “Kiss me.”

She rose on tiptoe, her hands gripping his strong shoulders, and pressed her mouth to his. She wanted the kiss to be sweet and short. A brief contact that enticed them both. But Jake crushed her buttocks in his fingers and followed her with his mouth when she pulled away. His lips plundered and demanded a response. She gasped, and he took advantage, slipping his tongue into the wet recesses.

He tasted of barley and heat. She dug her fingers into his brown hair and held him tight. She nipped at his bottom lip and twirled her tongue along his. She followed when he retreated and met him with tight, sweet licks when he pressed forward. Her chest expanded and the need for air burned through her, but she couldn’t stop kissing him.