Catch Me a Cowboy (27 page)

“As long as she saves all the dirty diapers for when Mia’s watching her, we’re golden.”

Billy’s laughter was cut off when he noticed Owen standing by the old Chevy. Shirlene followed his gaze, and they both walked over to find the man low-balling Jesse.

“Two thousand is a fair price for this old car, son,” Owen said. “And I won’t go a penny more.”

“Five,” Billy jumped in.

Owen shot him an annoyed look before countering. “Five and half. And that’s final.”

“Twenty.” Billy quickly put an end to the bidding. If he couldn’t get the stubborn woman to take her house back, at least he could give her enough to last her a while.

Shirlene shot him a surprised look. “Cash money?” When Billy nodded, she grinned and lifted a hand. “Sold to the cute redneck from east Texas.”

Before Billy could even absorb the fact that Shirlene had just called him “cute,” Owen pointed to the tarp in the corner. “What about that car?”

Billy had looked beneath the tarp soon after talking with Austin and written down the VIN number for Mr. Peabody to look into. As he watched, all the color drained from Mia’s face. The young girl looked so scared that Billy started to jump in. But it was Shirlene who came to her rescue.

“I’m afraid that’s not for sale, Mr. Carlisle. But I’ve got an old pickup over here that you’re gonna love.”

The picking continued, and by the time Owen Carlisle was finished, most of his cash was in Shirlene’s hand. Billy and Jesse helped him load up the trailer, but before he climbed into his van, his eyes swept over to Brody.

“What about the Colt?”

Confused, Billy followed his gaze to the little boy who stood there with the holster dragging halfway down his
hips. But it wasn’t Barbie weighing the holster down. It was a gun. And not a plastic toy gun, but the real thing.

“Oh. My. God.” Shirlene said as both she and Mia rushed over to grab the gun. But Billy got there first and easily lifted it from the holster before the kid started screaming.

“Mine! Mine!”

It was one thing to scream for a girl’s toy and another to scream for a dangerous weapon, and Billy didn’t waste any time correcting the stubborn boy. “That’s enough, Brody. This isn’t a toy.”

Brody’s deep voice cut off, and he watched with big eyes as Billy flipped open the chamber and checked for bullets. The chamber was empty and more than a little rusted. Brant was the gun collector in the family, but Billy knew enough about guns to know this was a Colt Single-Action Peacemaker. One of the first made.

“Well, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle,” Shirlene said as she walked over and stared down at the gun. “Colt has been looking all over for that ever since it went missing during one of mama’s binges—”

She cut herself off, but it was too late. Her words explained all the empty vodka bottles and filled in one more piece of the puzzle that was Shirlene Dalton. She wasn’t a spoiled gold digger, after all, just a woman who had lived through hard times and fought her way out of poverty with a strong will and a bright smile. Billy had to fight down the urge to pull her into his arms. Instead, he sent her a smile.

“Family heirloom?”

“Something like that.” She studied the gun. “It belonged to my great-great-granddaddy, Wynn Murdock, when he was the sheriff of this town.”

S
HIRLENE HAD GOTTEN HER WISH
.

“Bubba” Billy Wilkes was gone. Instead of jumping for joy, Shirlene found herself as somber and mopey as Mia. She didn’t know how it had happened, but somewhere along the line, she’d formed an attachment to the hillbilly from east Texas. It made sense that she would miss having a man around to fix things. She just didn’t think she’d miss Billy’s outrageous flirting and country boy charm. But she did miss it, missed it so much that she made up every excuse she could think of to go over to his trailer.

But the lot was empty, the trailer locked tight. The man who had cradled Adeline against his chest and ruffled Brody’s hair every time he walked past him—treated Jesse as if he was a man instead of a scared little boy and showed Mia only respect—was gone. It took Billy going back to the green hills of Dogwood for Shirlene to realize that the folks of Bramble had been right all along: Billy was a good ol’ boy.

Rolling to her back, Shirlene stared up at the ceiling.
The cool breeze from the air conditioning vents fell across her bare legs. Before he left, Billy had fixed the air conditioner. And replaced the front door and locks. And had the old truck and car frames the picker hadn’t bought towed off to the junkyard. The only thing he’d forgotten to do was say goodbye.

It shouldn’t have bothered her. He didn’t owe her anything. Still, it hurt. She had started to think of Billy as a permanent fixture, someone who would always be there. Someone who belonged in Bramble as much as she did. And not just Bramble, but right next door where she could call on him whenever she needed him.

She kicked at the covers, and Sherman grumbled awake. But all it took was a couple of scratches between his ears to get him back to sleep. She wished she could go to sleep as easily. All she could do was lie there and wonder what Billy was doing at that very moment. No doubt the man was at some east Texas honky-tonk whooping it up with some small-town slut.

Except after everything she had learned about the man, the image wouldn’t jell. What did jell was a picture of Billy with a pretty hometown girl. A girl with small breasts and little experience. A girl who was smart enough to appreciate the man in her arms. Shirlene pinched her eyes closed, but the image of Billy kissing such a perfect woman wouldn’t go away. She was so busy beating herself up for being an idiot that it took her a few minutes to notice the rumble that came through the open window.

A deep rumble that could only come from a big diesel engine.

Shirlene’s eyes popped open as the noise grew louder. Jumping up from the bed, she jerked open the door just
in time to see Billy’s truck drive past. She was halfway through the hedge before she realized she wore nothing but panties and Billy’s sleeveless western shirt. But before she could turn around and head back inside for her bra and cut-offs, a cowboy stepped out of the monster truck and headed to the front door. A cowboy in jeans without holes, a pressed western shirt with the sleeves intact, and a sexy Resistol cowboy hat pulled low on his head.

“Billy?” The word popped out of her mouth, and the cowboy hesitated with his hand on the doorknob. Realizing it was too late to turn back now, she stepped out into the open. He studied her for a long, uncomfortable moment that had her fidgeting with the hem of the shirt and crossing one big toe over the other. Finally, he released the doorknob and came back down the steps. As he approached, she struggled to catch her breath. She had seen Billy Wilkes in ripped shirts, camouflage, and nothing but skin. And he had looked mighty fine in all of those. But there was something about the starched shirt and cowboy hat that had her breath halting in her chest.

Especially when he stopped no more than inches away.

“Who did you think I was?” he asked. It was funny, but there was something about his somber voice that reminded her of Mr. Cates. Or maybe it was just the different clothing that had her confused.

“I wasn’t sure,” she said.

Billy just stood there in the shadows looking tall, dark, and hot. It took a real effort not to reach out and smooth down the collar of his shirt.

“So we haven’t seen much of you lately,” she said, her voice slightly shaky.

“I’ve been busy.”

She tipped her head and tried to make out his eyes in the shadow of the hat. “And just what kind of business would have Billy Wilkes all spit and polished?”

“Does it make a difference? I thought you didn’t want any part of me, Ms. Dalton.”

The brutal honesty of his remark had her taking a step back. Her heel landed on a rock, and she stumbled before Billy’s warm fingers closed around her arm and steadied her. The action brought him closer. Close enough to be engulfed in his heat.

“And what happened to the hardheaded man who doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer?” she asked rather breathlessly.

“Well, maybe I finally figured it out.” He gave her the once over. “So you mind telling me what you’re doing running around half naked?”

She took a steadying breath that didn’t do much to steady her pounding heart. “Only if you answer my question about where you’ve been the last three days. Of course, it’s probably not that hard to figure out seeing as how Billy Wilkes is only interested in three things—hunting, fishing, and women. And since it doesn’t look like you’re dressed for the first two, I’ll have to go with the last.”

His hand tightened on her arm. “If I said I was with a woman, would you turn back around and go home?”

“Yes.”

“Fine. I was with a woman.”

She might’ve believed him if he’d released her arm. But instead he pulled her closer. With her heart banging out a polka, she reached up and smoothed down the collar of his shirt, her fingers brushing the soft curls at the back of his neck. “Liar.”

His breath caught. “I’m all wrong for you.”

“I couldn’t agree more, honey.” She leaned in and rubbed her cheek against the scratchy stubble on his chin as she whispered in his ear. “All wrong.”

He released her arm, and his hands slipped around her waist. “It will cause nothing but trouble.”

“No doubt.” She licked his earlobe before sucking it into her mouth. He rolled his head closer, the brim of his hat grazing the top of her head.

“So what do you want, Ms. Dalton? Spell it out so there won’t be any excuses later.” His breath fell hot against her neck.

“I want you to stop calling me Ms. Dalton for one thing.” She tipped back her head as he kissed his way up her neck. “And I want you to stop talking to me like I’m a stranger and go back to being the obnoxious hillbilly who loves to tease the hell out of me.” His lips hesitated before they resumed the soft little nibbles that were making it hard to think. She became even more mindless when he tugged up her shirt and his warm, bare hands skated down her hips to cup each cheek of her bottom through her panties.

Moaning, she stepped up on the tops of his boots so she could brush her hips against the hardness beneath the fly of his zipper. “And I want a tour of Wilkesville.”

She thought he would laugh, but instead a deep growl came from his throat as he effortlessly lifted her into his arms. She hooked her arms around his neck and watched as a big smile settled over his face. Her Bubba was back.

“I’ve got to warn you, Shirley Girl,” he said as he maneuvered her up the front steps. “I might not last past the first attraction.”

Once he kicked the door closed behind them, she
pressed her lips to the bare skin in the opening of his shirt. “Then I guess I’ll have to get an all-night pass, now, won’t I?”

This time he did laugh, and he was still laughing when he set her down on the floor next to the bed. He went to take his cowboy hat off, but she stopped him.

“I like it.”

He tugged it back on before pulling her into his arms. “Into a little role playing, are we?”

“I might be.” She tugged his shirt out of his jeans before ripping open the snaps. “You ever seen the movie,
Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid
?”

He slipped the shirt off his shoulders. “Is Troy Aikman the best quarterback that ever lived? Of course, I’ve seen it. Every Texan worth his weight in cow manure has seen that movie—” He stopped in the process of toeing off his boots. “Ahh, Sundance and the schoolmarm scene.” He kicked his boots to the side and reached for his belt buckle, but Shirlene beat him to it.

“All women dream of naughty outlaws with big guns,” she said as she tugged his belt from the loops. “Didn’t you once tell me that you have a big gun you’d like to show me?” She ran her fingertips over the bulge beneath his fly. When he groaned and tipped his head back, she popped open the snap and slid the zipper down.

Billy’s gun was big. She’d seen it at half-mast, but fully aroused it was a little intimidating. Intimidating and extremely arousing. There was something so sexy and vulnerable about a man standing there with his desire so blatantly exposed, and Shirlene couldn’t help but take the pulsing flesh in hand and give it exactly what it was begging for.

“Lord have mercy,” Billy breathed as she learned the feel of him—the soft skin of his shaft, the ridged dome of the tip.

It had been too long since Shirlene had touched a man—too long without the sensual sensation that went with learning the textures of a body so different from her own. And she wanted to learn Billy’s textures, to glide her hands over every square inch of skin. Not just her hands, but her mouth, and her tongue.

Kneeling on the floor, she continued to stroke her hand along the shaft as she took the tip in her mouth. She was a little out of practice, so it took her a while to find a steady rhythm. But if the primal noises he released were any indication, Billy didn’t seem to notice. He tipped his head so far back his hat fell to the floor. Moments later, he pulled her back to her feet. She started to protest, but he cradled her face between his hands and silenced her with a soft kiss.

“Next time, Baby. This time I want to be in you.”