A Match Made in Texas (31 page)

He shrugged as he reached for the waistband of his pants. “We escorts do whatever it takes to please the clients.”

Bri’s arms dropped. “Minnie hired escorts?”

“All the way from Big D.” He dropped his pants to reveal a pair of white thong underwear with a big blue star right over his bulge. “But if you turn out to be as good as you look, I won’t charge you a dime.” He glanced over her shoulder. “Not even if that guy watches.”

Bri was so consumed with the fact that Minnie had hired escorts for the evening that it took her a moment to absorb what he was saying. When it finally dawned on her, she whirled around not knowing what to expect.

It certainly wasn’t her nephew’s face pressed against the glass of the window.

Chapter Thirty-two

M
ISS
H
ATTIE’S
H
ENHOUSE WAS THE LAST PLACE
Dusty wanted to be. As soon as the well-lit farmhouse came into view, the memories became so sharp he felt like the victim of a knife fight. Thankfully, last he heard, Brianne had gone home to Dogwood. And, no doubt, her boyfriend. Which was good. If it was this painful just looking at the house, there was no telling how painful it would be to walk in and see her.

Not that he planned on going inside. He was there just to make sure that the “hen party” hadn’t gotten out of control. And a quick walk around the perimeter would tell him everything he needed to know.

It turned out that he didn’t have to take that walk.

When Dusty turned into the circular drive, his headlights flashed over a bunch of teenage boys standing by a ladder that had been propped against the upstairs balcony. The light had the boys scattering like a herd of frightened deer.

Having been one of those boys who had made the journey out to Miss Hattie’s as a kid, Dusty couldn’t help finding the humor in their antics. Of course, back then, it had only been a rundown house filled with old women and cobwebs.

Dusty climbed out of the car and walked over to the ladder. He glanced up just as a teenage kid climbed over the railing and onto the ladder.

“Holy shit!” the kid said as he climbed down. “We got to get out of here. That was my aunt—”

“Jesse Cates!”

The voice had the teenager forgoing the last rungs. He jumped to the ground and took off down the road. The voice had the opposite effect on Dusty. Instead of running, he couldn’t seem to move his feet. Or any other body parts. The only thing that seemed to be moving was his heart. It raced out of control when Brianne yelled again.

“I swear when I get my hands on you, Jesse, you won’t be able to sit for a week!”

There was the creak of wood, and Dusty slowly lifted his gaze. Brianne leaned over the railing, her gaze searching the area for Jesse. From his position, all Dusty could see were waves of ebony hair and two full, lacy cups that took the rest of his breath away.

It returned quickly.

Along with an entire piss pot full of anger when the naked man stepped up next to Brianne.

“No need to worry about Jesse when you have Superstar Steve.”

Dusty wasn’t sure if the sound that came from his nose was a derisive snort or a head of steam. Either way, it got Brianne’s attention.

Her gaze snapped down to him, and those big eyes widened. “Dusty?”

He stepped out of the shadow and into the light coming from the porch. He wanted to say something clever, but at the moment, he couldn’t think of one clever thing. All he could think about was climbing the ladder and punching the guy with his arm around Brianne right in the face. The guy must’ve read his thoughts because he held up his hands and backed toward the open balcony doors.

“Look, Officer, it was consensual,” he muttered. “And no money was involved.” Before Dusty could even figure out what he was talking about, he disappeared, leaving only one person for Dusty to release his anger on.

“Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?” he asked. “Have you no shame, woman?”

Her nostrils flared. “Shame? Why should I feel shame?”

“How about for standing around half-naked in front of God and the world.” He looked away from the tempting swell of sweet breasts. “Of course, the world has already seen twice as much, haven’t they?”

“Ahh,” she said, drawing his attention back up to her. “So you did see the picture online. And that’s why you broke up with me.” The disappointment in her voice brought a wall of guilt that had him quickly becoming defensive.

“Hell yeah, it’s why I broke it off with you. You lied to me. You told me that the guy had been stalking you for months. Was this before or after you stripped naked and had sex with him?”

“I didn’t strip naked and have sex with him! And if you had cared enough to talk to me about it, you might’ve figured that out.” She leaned her hands on the railing. “But no, you had to believe the worst.”

“What else was I supposed to believe when you chased after me like you did?” He jabbed a finger at her. “And when I just caught you in nothing but your underwear with some naked asshole? Do you expect me to believe that there’s a reasonable explanation? Or are you planning on making up some harebrained story again? Let’s see”—he stared up at the sky—“you had car trouble, and this guy stopped to help you fix it only to get grease all over his clothing—and yours—so naturally you had to come back to Miss Hattie’s and strip.” He looked back at her. “Is that your story? Is that what you want me to believe?”

There was a long stretch of silence where the only sound was Dusty’s angry breath rushing in and out of his lungs. Finally, she lifted her hands from the railing.

“No, Dusty,” she said with no emotion in her voice. “I don’t expect you to believe anything.” She turned and walked back inside.

Dusty didn’t know what pissed him off more: the thought of her dismissing him and his accusations so easily or the thought of her going back inside with the naked dude. He was up the ladder and over the railing before he could even think about it. Unfortunately, she had locked the French doors, forcing him to stand there like an idiot and knock.

“Who is it?” she called out.

“Open the damn door.”

She appeared on the other side of the glass. She smiled her wide-eyed smile before lifting one finger… the middle one. Then she whipped around and sashayed over to the bed, where she stretched out like some goddamned centerfold. Dusty scanned the room, but the guy was either hiding in the closet or gone. Since he had once been the guy hiding in the closet, he wasted no time lifting a boot and kicking open the doors.

“Talk about people losing their minds,” Brianne said dryly as he stepped into the room.

“Where is he?” He moved into the bathroom.

“Who?” she asked innocently.

“You know who. Is he the same one who took the picture of you? Or is this a new lover?”

“A new lover.”

He stopped in front of the bed. “You really don’t care, do you? You are so spoiled that you think you can go through men like you go through shoes. And when you have them groveling for something they can’t have, you label them as stalkers.” He started to turn back to the window, when she grabbed his sleeve and jerked him around.

“And what about you? Do you think you’re so perfect, Dusty Hicks?” She came up on her knees. “The great Sheriff Hicks who follows all the rules and never screws up. Who hides all his true feelings behind a scowl and a cold metal badge. Except I didn’t let you do that, did I? I forced you to feel.” She released his shirt and smoothed out the wrinkles with hands that felt as hot as branding irons. “What’s the matter, Sheriff? Did I make you feel too much? Want too much?”

When he didn’t say anything, she tightened her hands around his shirt and tugged him closer. “Did offering you everything make you think you’d be left with nothing?” Before he figured out her intent, she leaned in and her lips captured his.

Dusty had never taken drugs, but he had dealt with enough druggies to know an addiction. And the sensation that sizzled through his veins made him realize just how addicted he was. Beneath the drugging force of her kiss, the pain of the last few weeks melted away and only pleasure remained. All thoughts evaporated except one:
More, I must have more.

The rational part of his brain tried to send out a warning:
She’s playing you for a fool. This isn’t real.
But damned if it didn’t feel real. And even if it wasn’t, he didn’t care. He was an addict, and he needed a hit of Bri. Just one more hit.

His hands wrapped around her waist, and he pulled her up against him, consumed by the feel of her warm skin in his hands and her soft breasts against his chest. Her fingers scraped up into his hair, knocking off his hat and sending chills down his spine. And then he was falling. Falling down to the warm cradle of her body.

The snaps of his shirt were jerked open, and he reached for her panties. But before his fingers could curl around the elastic edge her lips released him, and he opened his eyes to twin pools of heartbreaking blue.

“I love you,” she whispered. A puff of surprise came from his lips, and she pressed a finger to them. “I know you don’t believe me. And after all the lies I’ve told, I can’t really blame you.”

While Dusty tried to swim out of the fog her words had conjured, she continued. “I know you can’t love me—not now. Not when you need to get back Emma. But I’ve come to realize that keeping a secret from the ones you love is as bad as lying to them. And I just thought you should know before you leave.”

It took him a moment to realize that Brianne was throwing him out. And not just throwing him out, but also saying good-bye… forever. As easily as her kiss had filled him with pleasure, her words filled him with pain. Pain so intense that it was a struggle to speak.

“I can’t—”

The bedroom door burst open, and Dusty turned to see Reverend Jessup striding into the room in all his Elvis glory.

“Repent, you sons and daughters of Satan!” His voice boomed off the ceiling as an entourage of half-naked women and a couple of guys with cameras hurried in after him.

Dusty quickly sprang to his feet and tossed the covers over Bri. “What in the hell is going on?”

The reverend turned to one of the cameras. “What’s going on, Sheriff Hicks, is that your day of judgment is upon you.” He waved a hand. “The world is going to witness firsthand the depravity and wickedness that has been going on at Miss Hattie’s for over a century.” As if his words were a signal, the women started dancing and gyrating for the cameras—one using the bedpost as a stripper pole.

Having reached his limit, Dusty grabbed the reverend by his silk scarf. “I’m giving you two seconds to get your ass and these people out of here before I—”

“Before you what, Sheriff?” Jessup taunted. “Hit a man of God?”

Before Dusty took him up on the offer, Beckett came charging in the room, looking like he’d just rolled out of bed. His hair was messed, and he wore a pair of wrinkled black pants with the waistband unhooked. He glanced around at all the craziness until his gaze zeroed in on Dusty. Then, in two strides he was across the room, and his fist connected with Dusty’s chin.

“You sonofabitch!” he said. “You think you can just show up after what you did to my little sister.”

“Beckett, no!” Brianne came up off the bed in her lacy underwear, drawing the attention of the camera before Dusty could shake off the punch and push her behind him. But being the stubborn woman she was, she ducked around and positioned herself between him and her brother.

“But he hurt you, Bri,” Beckett said.

Brianne’s nod hit Dusty twice as hard as Beckett’s punch. “And I’m sure I’ll be hurt again in my lifetime. But you can’t prevent that, Beckett. Just like you need to live your life, I need to live mine.” She pointed over his shoulder. “What is Starlet doing wearing your shirt?”

The camera whipped over to where Starlet stood in the open doorway of the closet. And sure enough the young woman seemed to be wearing nothing but a tuxedo shirt. Her eyes sparkled as she swayed on her bare feet.

“I didn’t realize my party was going to be televised.” She giggled, and before she could do more than blow a kiss at the camera, Beckett shoved her back in the closet and slammed the door behind them.

The door had barely stopped vibrating when Minnie came rolling into the room, followed by Sunshine and Baby and a bunch of men in various stages of undress, including the guy who had been on the balcony.

“Did I not tell you that Miss Hattie’s was a cesspool of sin?” Reverend Jessup bellowed at the camera. “Just look at this depravity.” He pointed at the man’s starred thong. “Just look at this corruption.” He pointed at Dusty. “Just look at these”—he pointed at the hens—“whores!”

Before Dusty could take a step to stop what he knew was coming, the shot resounded through the room, sending cameramen, screaming strippers, and half-naked men racing for the door.

When the room had cleared, the reverend was on the floor, and Minnie was sitting in her chair holding the smoking derringer.

“I never did care for a man in a toupee.”

Chapter Thirty-three

“O
RDER!
T
HERE WILL BE ORDER
in my courtroom!” Judge Seeley pounded his mallet, causing the fishing lures on his hat to jangle.