Last of the Red-Hot Riders (5 page)

“Thank you,” Saint said.

“You just sit out there and think about what we're going to do for poor Judy,” she called over her shoulder.

He followed the heart-shaped ass back to his bathroom, fascinated that Cameron seemed to be taking over his house. And it wasn't as horrifying as he'd thought it might be to have a woman in charge.

For the moment.

“I'm guessing the only reason Ivy told us was to make trouble.”

“I agree. She said Judy had wanted her to keep her news a secret. Of course Ivy's making trouble. She knows we're going to be upset and that we'd probably go talk to Judy.”

“First thing I think we do is tell Declan and Harper that this stays between the four of us.”

She lowered the squiggling puppy into the nice tepid bath she'd drawn. Saint watched, fascinated, as she leaned over the tub to use his Old Spice soap to clean the mangy animal. “Great idea. I'll wash Lucky, and you call Declan.”

“On second thought, maybe we should name that ugly beast Rascal. Or Soldier. Something hard-core.”

“He's
Lucky,
” Cameron insisted. “And you are so very lucky Uncle Eli picked you up and gave you to your new dad!” she told the puppy.

“Great. A guy wants to get lucky, and he gets ‘Lucky,' ” Saint muttered, and went to call Declan.

Five minutes later, he returned to find Lucky wrapped in a towel, gazing up at Cameron and licking her chin with adoration. He would have liked to do something similar to her, but that just wasn't going to happen—ever since she'd kissed him, she'd kept a careful distance.

“They agree with us. No causing trouble. We're all going to act like we don't know a thing until Judy tells us. Declan says Harper's taking it really hard,” Saint said.

“I'm sure she is. Harper's tough, but she's got such a sweet soul. Usually.”

He followed her back into the den. “Sometimes?”

“Well, you don't raise a child by yourself without being something of a lioness. Don't be fooled by that quiet, sweet, blonde exterior. Harper's tougher than any of us.” She settled herself onto his sofa with the puppy in her arms. “We're going to need dog food and a couple of bowls, Dad.”

He stopped dead in his tracks. “Dad”? Hellfire, he was the furthest thing from being a dad that anyone could be. Trace was looking for fatherhood; Saint was all about freedom. “Maybe I should give Lucky to Declan.”

Cameron gave him a disappointed look.

Smooth move, dumb-ass.
“Tell you what. Why don't I make a run for some dog food and some bowls?”

She beamed at him.

“That's what I thought I'd be doing tonight anyway,” Saint said, grabbing his keys and heading out the door, his whiskey barely touched.

If it earned him a softer place in Cameron's heart, he told himself, adopting a dog would be a very small price to pay.

And that was when Saint knew he'd hit a new low, even for him. What man used a dog to get closer to a woman?

Then again, it was safer than using bulls, which had been his only other option. And training her in bullfighting was out of the question.

A dog was so much safer.

For both of us.

Once Saint left, Cameron began making a comfy dog bed for Lucky. “Your new father may not appreciate me using one of his T-shirts and one of his towels for a nice, soft bed for you, but ask forgiveness later, I always say.” She went into Saint's closet, amazed by how orderly it was. Everything was on hangers, facing the same direction. No piles of clothes tossed haphazardly into baskets or corners. With the puppy in her arms, she backed out to give his bedroom a better inspection

A queen-sized bed covered in a blue and maroon paisley pattern gave the room a comfortable feeling. There were two mahogany end tables, each with a brass lamp on top, and a book lay on the side of the bed he clearly slept on, since that pillow was the only one disturbed. A beer can sat beside the book, probably consumed as a sleep inducer. She went to peer at the book.

“Oh, your father likes Sherlock Holmes. You're in for some amazing bedtime stories.”

Lucky licked her chin. Cameron went to the large window to peer out at Saint's view by night. A birdfeeder was right outside his window, illuminated by a porch light. “And your dad may have a softer heart than he lets on.” She had no idea how big Saint's property was, but she thought it was a couple of acres.

Against the opposite wall was a large glass-and-wood case. Peering into it, she saw rodeo buckles, some big, some smaller—but each a sign of his being a winning bull rider. Cameron caught her breath as she looked at all the trophies. Not only had Saint been a brave-as-hell SEAL, but he'd been hell on a bull, too. This was a glimpse into a side of him that he never spoke of. She'd always heard he was a great rider, but now it seemed that whether it was a horse or a bull didn't matter—he was good at it.

He could train her in bullfighting, if he wanted. He just didn't want to and wasn't about to be talked into it. Like Trace and Declan, Saint wanted no part of putting a woman into an arena and thought Judy's Hell's Belles idea was harebrained. The Outlaws claimed no man would feel safe with a woman being in charge of protecting him from a couple tons of annoyed meat trying to gore and stomp him.

But Judy was smart. She knew she had an angle no other small town had, and had searched high and low to find the women who could help her accomplish her goal.

Cameron knew Judy hadn't counted on the Outlaws' consistent, and persistent, opposition to her team.

At the moment, she had a wriggly puppy to foist onto Saint. “He's not happy about you,” she told Lucky, “but he's the right guy for you. I just know you'll do him a world of good. It's time for him to quit being such a solitary, lonely guy, especially now that his buddy Trace is married. I don't even know where Declan spends his time anymore—mostly at Redfeather's, probably. You'll meet Stephen Redfeather one day. He's probably got a bone or two in his kitchen we can snitch for these puppy teeth of yours to chew on.”

As she returned to the closet to commandeer a T-shirt, she breathed in the comforting scent of man and clean clothes. Rows of boots sat on a wire riser on the hardwood floor. One side of the closet held T-shirts with logos, the other side was for long-sleeve shirts and jeans. “I would never have imagined he'd be so orderly, but even the towels in the bathroom were stacked neatly and by color. However, I'm pretty sure we don't want to borrow one of his T-shirts with logos on them, because men can be real proud of their souvenir shirts.”

She backed out of the closet and went to the laundry room, hoping to find something in a laundry basket Saint wouldn't mind her using. A basket of clothes that were waiting to be washed overflowed with an assortment of T-shirts, work shirts, and jeans. “Perfect. You'll think you've landed in doggie heaven.” She pulled out a white T-shirt, grabbed a towel from the bathroom, and made a nice nest on the floor for Lucky. “There you go. See how nice that is?”

Lucky crawled right back up into her lap. Saint came in, stopping when he saw her on the floor by his bed.

“He's sleeping with me?” Saint asked.

“Of course. He'd be scared without someone with him.” She took the bowls and food from him, smiling. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” He followed her into the kitchen, where she set Lucky on the floor so she could wash the bowls. The puppy hovered at her feet anxiously. “I guess it'll win me no points to say that Lucky's already spent many nights in his young life without sleeping with someone. He could go in the garage.”

Cameron looked at him, horrified. “Oh, he'd be so sad!”

“Yeah, I know. Better me than the dog, I guess.”

She put the bowls on the floor. Saint cut open the puppy kibble and poured some in, while Cameron filled one bowl with water. “He's so pretty. All that dark gold fur is lovely.”

“Look at those paws. He's going to be the size of a small elephant.”

Lucky tucked into his bowl hungrily, and she rubbed his back, letting him know that he was safe now. “How fortunate for Lucky that you're well-versed in large animals.”

“I guess.”

She smiled at his obvious reluctance. “You don't like change much, do you?”

He put his hat on a hat rack on the wall, washed his hands at the sink. “Had enough of that in the military. Peace and quiet and no excitement is my new love.”

All those rows of shirts and perfectly stacked towels told her he craved order. “Speaking of peace and quiet, I think I figured out why Judy swore Ivy to secrecy.”

“Didn't work. Personally, I'd prefer my madams to be a bit more discreet.”

Cameron followed Saint into the den, where he retrieved his whiskey. “
Is
Ivy a madam?”

He shrugged. “There are some who say she's running more than a honky-tonk.”

Lucky scrambled after her, hanging right at her heels. “Let's go outside, you. I'm going to take Lucky for a potty break.”

“Out back would be safest at this hour,” he said grudgingly. “Come on, animal.”

He scooped Lucky up and carried him to the back door, holding it open for Cameron. “You realize he's going to do all kinds of doggy mess on my floor?”

“Not if you take him out often. And be patient with him. He's trying very hard to be a good boy.” Cameron took the puppy and set him on the ground. Lucky sat close to her feet, as if he wasn't sure going too far away from her was a good idea. Clearly, peeing wasn't as high on his priority list as being protected by his new humans.

“So back to your thoughts on Ivy.”

She looked at him. “I think Steel doesn't know about Judy. Ivy told us figuring we wouldn't keep it to ourselves.”

Saint frowned. “How could she not tell Steel?”

“She just wouldn't. That's Judy's way. She thinks she can handle everything herself.”

He picked Lucky up and moved him away from Cameron, encouraging him onto a grassy spot. Lucky ran right back to Cameron, settled at her feet. Looked up at Saint with some disgust.

“Why would Ivy care if Steel knows about Judy's health issues?”

Cameron sank onto a bench, looked up at the moon peeping through the trees. “My guess is because it gives Ivy one more advantage over Judy. And control over Hell is what drives them both. That and Steel are the prizes, which Judy has had a lock on so far.”

Saint joined her on the bench, keeping a good foot between them—which Lucky quickly and eagerly laid claim to, before lying down to thoughtfully chew his tail.

“Ivy and Steel are never going to happen,” Saint said.

“I know that, and you know that, but Ivy is a determined woman selling the wilder side of life.”

“Sex.”

“It's what Judy fears most,” Cameron said, nodding. “That someone might seem sexier and more desirable to Steel than her.”

“The battle of the big-haired beauty queens,” Saint murmured.

She looked at Saint. “Beauty queens?”

He nodded. “They've both won their share of crowns. It was a toss-up as to which of them would win Miss Texas. In the end, neither of them did, but they came damn close, no small feat in Texas. Especially for small-town girls.”

Cameron shook her head. “Anyway, it's absolutely vital the four of us sit on Ivy's news blast. She's not going to tell anybody else.”

He looked at her. “Are we sure about that?”

“What good would it do her? We were supposed to go rushing back, throw Judy's offer back in her face, and go all mushy over her secret, which would hurt Judy. Ivy is just using us.”

“We still have to tell Judy that Ivy wasn't interested in playing ball.”

“Yes.” Cameron looked over at him, studying him in the moonlight, thinking he was so deliciously sexy it was hard not to kiss him again. “That won't surprise Judy, though. Judy was using us, too, and she'd be the first to admit it, though she wouldn't call it that. She wanted us to get Ivy over to the good side of Hell. We just didn't manage to convince Ivy to go along with the plan.”

“Yeah, the bad blood between them is pretty thick. So: What are we going to do about Judy?”

“Well,” Cameron said carefully, “what we're not going to do is let on that we know—she'd be too hurt. Though it's going to be hard.” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “I'm devastated that Judy's going through this alone.”

“Her choice. We have to respect that. Hey, Lucky did his business!”

Cameron smiled. “He's a smart boy.”

“I wouldn't go that far.”

She followed Saint inside. “He's going to grow on you. Anyway, you fellows need to drive me home. I'll leave you to get better acquainted.”

Saint hesitated. “It's still early.”

“Not when I have to get up for six
A.M.
training.” She smiled at him. “I can't be late—Judy's very vigilant. And I don't have to tell you that Rory runs a tight bull riding center.”

“No one breeds them like the judge.” Saint shifted, reached for his keys on the kitchen counter. Stopped when his phone rang in his pocket. “Hold on a minute,” he said to Cameron as she picked up a wriggling Lucky for one last kiss. “Hi, Steel. Yeah, we went out there. No, Ivy doesn't want to be part of the parade or any charitable function that might benefit Hell.” He hesitated for a moment, listening, and Cameron drank him in with her eyes. “Aw, hell, Steel. Call Declan.” He listened a few more seconds. “All right. Swing by and pick me up.”

He hung up. “Okay. We have a problem. I'm going to leave the choice of solution to you.”

“I'm listening.”

“Steel's on his way here. There's been a bit of trouble out at the Honky-tonk.”

“Trouble?”

Saint winced. “A dead guy, actually. Steel doesn't know how he met his maker, but the fact is, the guy's in Hell and Ivy swears he has no ID on him. Steel wants me to go with him.”

Cameron nodded. “For backup.”

“Once trouble gets started out there, sometimes it lights a fire under more trouble. The coroner's on the way, too, and Steel's got his deputies going, but he said he'll feel better if he's got an Outlaw with him. He doesn't want to call Trace, now that Trace is married and trying to start a family, and he can't find Declan. He and Harper have wisely gone off the grid, is my guess, until we have a better plan than the one we went out to Ivy's with tonight.”

“I see.” Cameron waited. “And here I am, sort of a loose end you're trying to get wrapped up.”

Saint shrugged. “You can ride out there with us, you can stay here, or you can borrow my truck to drive back to the Honeysuckle Bungalow.”

Saint's truck was a huge, camo-painted beast that was perfect for not being seen in a dense stand of trees, say if one was hunting—but would stick out like crazy at the Honeysuckle Bungalow. Judy would notice in a flash, and so would everyone else in town. That option was definitely out.

“I know you have to get to bed early.”

She nodded. “I'll go with you.”

“What about Lucky?”

Cameron looked at her new, soft friend. “You'd be too afraid to be left alone your first night here, wouldn't you, little guy?”

Saint waited for her answer.

“I should stay here.”

“But your curiosity will kill you.”

She nodded. “Pretty much.”

“I figured. Let me get a box for Little Rascal to ride in.”

Saint went off for a second, came back with a towel-lined box just right for Lucky to feel cozy in. “He might as well get used to riding in a vehicle. I don't have any need of a dog who just lies in my bed and watches classic movies.”

Cameron smiled. “You're sure you don't mind?”

“Oh, I mind. I just have a funny feeling that the cow has already left the barn on that one.” He grinned, heart-stoppingly sexy, and Cameron reminded herself that keeping distance was key. No staring, no drooling—and definitely no more spontaneous kisses.

“I hear the sheriff's cruiser. Let's go see what trouble we can stir up,” Saint said.

As far as Cameron was concerned, trouble had already been stirred up.

If Steel was surprised to see Cameron getting into the cruiser with a stray puppy, he didn't show it.

“Ladies up front,” Steel said. “You and the mutt take up space in the back, Saint.”

“Good thing I brought this box along, young man.” Saint belted the box in, and the puppy lay down in the towel-and-T-shirt nest. “Where are your deputies?”

“Following behind.” Steel pulled out so fast that Saint's gaze automatically bounced to Cameron to make sure her seat belt was securely fastened. “Damn Ivy. This is her second stiff in ten years.”

“The second one?” Cameron looked at the sheriff, and Saint admired her in the glow from the cruiser's dash. She had the straightest nose, and the sweetest set of lips. How he wished he could figure out a good excuse to kiss that mouth again—but then again, he didn't need a girlfriend, so that was out. Kissing led to a girlfriend, and a girlfriend meant problems, and time he didn't have to spend away from the training center. Plus, this woman was red-hot and oozing a sexiness that made every inch of him scream with desire—a distraction he didn't need, especially now with Trace spending a lot more time away from the training center with his new bride, working on that family thing.