Run To You (12 page)

“That’s what concerns me.” When Sadie had first learned of Stella, she’d been hurt and confused. He hated to see that kind of pain in her eyes. “A flighty dandelion seed.”

“I wouldn’t call her flighty. She’s too responsible to be flighty.” He shook his head as he reached inside his side pants pocket and pulled out his cell phone. “More impulsive.”

Impulsive?
“How well did you get to know her?”

“I’ve spent the last six days with her, most of the time in an Escalade.” He pushed a few buttons on his phone and frowned. “An Escalade is big, but isn’t that big. What exactly do you want to know, Vince?”

A few things. He’d noticed Beau’s hand in the small of Stella’s back as they’d walked toward the house. There were certain places a man rested his hand when he was real comfortable with a woman. When she belonged to him. He wondered if Beau was still riding the no-sex wagon or if he’d jumped off onto Sadie’s little sister. “Sadie was real hurt and upset that her father never told her she had a sister.” He decided not to ask about the past six days and nights. At least not right now. “I guess I just don’t want Stella to hurt her, too.”

“Copy that, but it’s more likely Stella is the one who gets hurt,” he said, an edge to his voice as he punched out a quick text. “I’d really hate to see that.” He shoved the phone back in his pants pocket. “She’s been through enough rejection from the Hollowells.”

Vince looked into Beau’s steel-gray eyes. The guy gave nothing away. Real cool. “Sadie isn’t going to reject Stella. More likely she’s going to buy one of those ‘I’m a Big Sister’ T-shirts and matching heart necklaces.” And it was his job to protect her from an unknown sister who might see an opportunity to take advantage of Sadie’s optimism and hope. It was his job to grill the girl to make sure she wanted a relationship with her sister and not something else. “The town is going to go crazy, though.”

“How’s that?”

Beau was the kind of cool that came with years of surviving in the pressure cooker of war. “Nothing much happens in Lovett. So when the town hears that Clive Hollowell has a twenty-eight-year-old illegitimate daughter, they’re going to kill to get eyes on her.” His aunt Luraleen would likely lead the scouting party.

Beau checked his watch again. “I’m meeting Blake at someplace called the Road Kill Bar.”

Vince laughed. “Don’t wreck the place.”

Beau finally smiled and walked to the back of the SUV. “I don’t drink like that anymore.” He opened the doors and pulled out a backpack and duffel. “It takes me too long to recover these days.”

“Roger that.” Vince didn’t drink much these days. Not like Blake. Blake drank like he was on leave and Vince wondered if he should alert Beau before he walked into the Road Kill. “Are those Stella’s?” He’d find out soon enough.

“Yeah.”

“Go meet your brother. I’ll take those.”

Beau hesitated before he gave them over. “Tell Stella to give me a shout if she needs anything.”

“Will do.” He shook Beau’s free hand, then took the duffel and backpack. “Stay at my place with Blake and have him bring you by the Gas and Go tomorrow,” he said, referring to the convenience store he’d spent the past few months renovating. He turned toward the house and waved a parting hand. For the last eight weeks or so, he’d lived at the JH with Sadie. It seemed natural and right and better than he’d ever thought possible.

Unfortunately, it also gave the town something to gossip about besides the Hendersons’ mysterious septic tank explosion. His moving into the JH had even eclipsed the scandalous discovery that the newest deputy had shacked up with Lily Darlington. Stella’s arrival would give the town something new to feast on. Hollowell gossip was the juiciest kind, and he went in search of the long-lost sisters.

He found them in the kitchen. Giggling. The bags in his hands hit the floor as he watched his fiancée down a straight shot. “You’re drinking?” He looked at the bottle on the counter. “Tequila?” Sadie never drank tequila. It made her wild and crazy. The last time she’d had one too many margaritas she’d sung “I’m Too Sexy” at Slim Clem’s karaoke night, then passed out on the pool table.

Sadie smiled. “It’s okay, Vince. Stella is a professional.”

He turned to the petite woman squeezing lemons into a martini shaker. Lord, she was small. “Professional what?”

“Mixologist,” Stella provided, her big eyes all innocent as she added a bit of sugar. “It’s one of the more highly skilled and sought-after careers in the industry. It takes a quick mind, steady hand, and knife skills.”

What industry?

Sadie nodded like she knew what the hell her sister was talking about. “Like all impalement arts.”

“Exactly. It’s like sword swallowing or knife throwing.” She put the lid on the shaker. “Or open heart surgery.”

Sadie laughed like her sister was just hilarious. Vince didn’t get the joke, but that was okay. Sadie’s laughter was more than enough. He moved toward the woman he loved and cupped her face in his palms. “You good?”

She nodded. “Thanks, Vin.” She kissed the side of his hand. “I owe you.”

“Hooyah.”

“Maybe two hooyahs.”

He chuckled and dropped his hands.

“Are we ready for round two?” Stella asked as she poured from the shaker into three tall shot glasses.

Vince preferred a cold beer, but what the hell.

Stella passed out the glasses.

“What is this?”

“A lemon margarita shot, minus the infused vanilla.”

“
La familia
,” Sadie said as she held up her shot.

Stella raised her glass. “To family.”

“Family.” Vince took his shot. It was a little sweet and girly for his liking.

Sadie’s lips puckered.

Stella blew out a breath and smiled. “Where’s Beau?”

Vince would stick with a cold Lone Star. “He left to meet Blake at the Road Kill.”

“Oh.” Her smile fell and she looked behind Vince as if Beau was hiding behind him. “Is he coming back tonight?”

Beau might be one cool hard-to-read dude, but Stella was an open book. “He said to give him a call if you need anything.”

“Oh.” She turned and put her shot glass on the counter, but not before Vince noticed the confusion pulling at her forehead. “So, I guess that means he won’t be back tonight.”

Vince shot a glance at Sadie, who lifted a brow in response. “I’ll take your bags upstairs,” he volunteered.

She looked so young as she glanced from Sadie to Vince, then back again. “I guess I’m staying here?”

“Of course!” Sadie moved toward her sister and put her hand on Stella’s shoulder. “Where would you stay if not here?”

“Well, I thought I’d stay in a motel.”

“Why? Why would you even think about staying in a motel?”

“Well, what if you saw me and didn’t like me? Or . . . or I didn’t like you?” She shrugged. “It’s weird being here.”

Vince felt bad. Bad that she didn’t feel comfortable in her father’s house. Bad that she hadn’t been sure if her sister would like her.

“I’ll take your stuff,” he said, and reached for her bags. Yeah, he felt bad, but he was still going to grill the girl like a cheese sandwich.

Chapter Twelve

B
eau woke to the sound of someone puking his guts up.
Blake
. Beau bunched the pillow beneath his head and looked up at the ceiling fan over his head. Vince’s apartment was your typical two-bedroom, two-bath space. The complex was new and still smelled of new carpet.

The water in the bathroom down the hall turned on, and Beau sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He’d have preferred to wake up in a hotel room with Stella curled up by his side. Like the last two mornings. Her warm, soft bottom pressed into his hard dick and one of his hands cupping her breast. Was it just yesterday he’d woken and kissed her bare shoulder? Twenty-four hours ago that she’d arched against him and moaned. That he’d taken that as an invitation to slide his erection between her thighs, high against her slick crotch, and to teach her how to ride him until she came. She hadn’t shouted that she loved him. Not like the first time, and he was relieved.

Stella didn’t love him any more than he loved her. Love took time. More time than six days in a SUV and two nights of sex. Good sex. Sex without penetration. Creative sex that challenged his abilities and control, but Beau had always thrived on challenges.

He rose from the bed and entered the master bathroom. With the head of his penis pressed into the apex of her hot, wet thighs, it would have been so easy to make her want it all. To make her want him so bad that she wanted him deep inside, all the way. Feel her wet and tight around him. Make it so good she wouldn’t care. Make her so hot she’d want it again.

It would have been so easy, but even as hot, consuming lust had chewed him up inside and out, he hadn’t given in to it. He wouldn’t exactly call his control admirable. No, admirable would have been if he’d the willpower to walk away from her in New Orleans, but he hadn’t walked away. He’d taken what she’d offered. He wasn’t sorry, but neither would he dishonor Stella or himself by talking her out of her virginity. She wanted to save that final act for a man she loved and wanted to live with for the rest of her life.

A man that wasn’t he.

Several times throughout the previous night, he’d thought of stepping outside the bar and giving her a call. He hadn’t because his job was done. His responsibility over. Free from his continual presence and the confines of the Escalade, he was sure she felt the same. They’d had a good time for a few days, but it was over.

He took a shower and brushed his teeth and wondered what kind of shape his brother would be in this morning. Considering that he’d had to help his brother into the apartment, he’d guess somewhere between shitty and wanting to shoot himself. God knew Beau wanted to shoot him.

The Road Kill was a typical cowboy bar complete with dance floor, stuffed animals, and long horns mounted on the walls. For a Tuesday night, the bar had been fairly busy, but Beau had recognized his brother’s laugh the moment he’d entered the building. Blake sat at a table surrounded by men in trucker hats and women with big hair.

It was always good to see Blake, but he would have preferred not to spend the night in a crowded bar while his brother drank among strangers.

Blake was part of him in a way that people without a twin couldn’t comprehend. They walked, talked, and chewed their food the same. They looked the same and thought the same because they were one and the same. He knew Blake like he knew himself. He saw himself when he looked at his brother, yet they were their own men. Perhaps more alike than different, but different in many ways.

Beau liked green beans. Blake, peas. Beau listened to hard rock. Blake preferred country. In his free time, Beau liked to kick back and catch a ball game. Blake liked to kick back in bars and hold court.

Like their dad.

Beau dressed in cargo pants and a black T-shirt and wasn’t surprised to see his brother standing in the kitchen wearing the same thing. They had the same taste and it happened more often than not. He was more surprised to see Blake’s waistline in the light of day. His brother wasn’t fat. Far from it, but he was definitely on the way to getting a beer gut.

“How you feeling?” Beau asked as he opened a cupboard looking for a coffee mug.

“My head’s pounding like a bitch.” Blake opened a cabinet and pulled out a bright pink “crazy cowgirl” mug. “Nothing a few Advil and coffee won’t cure.” He poured and handed the coffee to Beau.

Beau noticed his brother’s cup had a SEALs trident on it. “This yours?” He held up the pink mug, then took a drink.

Blake laughed. “I imagine it’s Sadie’s, but I thought it matched your personality, sissy ass jarhead.”

“More like it matches the color of your eyeballs, squid shit.”

Blake opened the refrigerator and pulled out a half gallon of milk. “Did you meet Sadie?” Subject of bloodshot eyes closed.

Beau didn’t want to talk about his brother’s drinking anyway. He was in town for only a short time, and fighting with Blake wasn’t high on his list of entertainment. “Briefly.”

“She’s a nice lady.” He added a splash of milk to his coffee, then handed it to Beau. “Vince is a lucky guy.”

“He seems happy.” He stirred the milk into his coffee. “He said something about stopping by the store you two have been renovating.”

“The Gas and Go. It’s not far from here.” He shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out his keys. “Let’s grab some breakfast at the Wild Coyote first.”

“I’ll drive,” Beau said as he pulled out his own keys. “Your truck is parked at the bar.”

T
he Wild Coyote advertised their “World Famous Breakfast Casserole” on the front of the diner and on the menus. Beau didn’t know what made it “World Famous,” but he took one look at the photo inside the menu and ordered the Coyote breakfast instead. Blake ordered the same, and they dug into biscuits and gravy, ham and bacon, scrambled eggs, two sides of toast, hash browns, and even the strawberry and cantaloupe garnish.

“Lord, you two have healthy appetites,” their waitress said as she poured coffee into their white mugs. “You boys need anything else?”

“No. Thank you.” Beau glanced up from his plate and noticed the many sets of eyes on him and his brother. He and Blake were used to scrutiny, as if people where trying to see the slight differences in their faces. He glanced around as he chewed. It was still unnerving. Especially since they sat at a table in the middle of the restaurant and could be viewed a full three-sixty. “I forgot how much people stare.”

Blake shoved some toast into his mouth and looked up. He chewed and washed it down with coffee. “I don’t think it’s so much us as your passenger of the past week. I’m sure they’re just dying to ask about Sadie’s sister.”

Beau returned his attention to his biscuits. “I just dropped her off last night.”

“Small town, and the JH employs a lot of people.” Blake set his coffee on the table.

“Well, this must be your brother,” a voice that rattled like an Abrams tank spoke from the aisle. Beau looked up at an older lady with a pile of gray hair and a stack of wrinkles. She had little cowboy boots dangling from her ears and a white T-shirt with an assault rifle on the front with the words “Come and Take It” written beneath.

“Hello, Luraleen.” Blake stood and offered his hand.

“Oh you.” She wrapped her skinny arms around Blake’s chest. “You know I’m a hugger.”

Blake grinned. “That I do.” He raised one hand toward Beau, who put down his fork and rose. “Beau, this is Vince’s aunt, Luraleen Jinks.”

“It’s a pleasure, Ms. Jinks.” He held out his hand, only to have her wrap around him like a scrawny octopus.

“Call me Luraleen,” she said, and gratefully dropped her arms. “You boys go on ahead and sit. I don’t want to keep you from your breakfast. The Wild Coyote makes a real good biscuit on Wednesday on account of that Russian Ralf cooking in the kitchen.” She looked around and added out of the corner of her mouth. “Never come on the weekends. Friday through Sunday mornings Sarah Louise Baynard-Conseco is in the kitchen. Her biscuits are tough as Texas clay. Probably on account of her husband being currently incarcerated in San Quentin and her not having any man at home to cook for.” Then she added as if they’d asked, “Murder.”

Beau cut his eyes to his brother, who just shrugged a shoulder. “I’ll remember that, Ms. Jinks. It was a pleasure to meet you.” He put a hand on the table to take his seat, but she wasn’t done, and he had to remain standing.

“And of course, you just brung Clive Hollowell’s illegitimate daughter to town to finally meet Sadie Jo.” Her blue eyes drilled into Beau as if she expected him to speak. He kept quiet but she did not return the favor. “Isn’t that just a scandal? Who would have thought?” She shook her head. “Did you get to know her pretty good? All those days alone? Just you and her? I forgot that girl’s name. What did you say it was?”

“I didn’t, Ms. Jinks.” Beau softened the news with a smile. “I can’t tell you anything. If you want to know about Sadie’s sister, you’ll have to talk to Sadie.”

Luraleen’s eyes got squinty. “That girl never says nothing to nobody. Thinks she’s too good for her raisins.” She finally shuffled off. “Deserted her poor daddy for all those years,” she mumbled.

The brothers sat and Blake picked up his coffee. “That Luraleen is a pistol.”

Beau reached for his fork. “A crazy pistol with a loose trigger.”

“She’s okay. I got to know her a bit when I was helping Vince.” He picked up his fork and shoveled a few bites of eggs into his mouth. Did Beau look like that when he ate? What had Stella called him?
A healthy eater?
“What did you and Sadie’s little sister do?” Blake asked, and gave a deep amused chuckle. “All those days alone in a car. Just you and her?”

In the car? “Nothing much. I got some business done and she listened to music.”

“What kind of business? Are you still on the wagon?”

This was Blake. Beau had to be careful. What he and Stella had done was
no one’s
business. “Why do you care?”

“It’s not natural.” He paused for the waitress to refill their coffee and move away before he added, “It makes a man crazy and mean.”

“What’s your excuse?”

“Forgot my brain bucket a time or two in Afghanistan.” He looked up and was only half kidding. “Don’t tell Mom,” he said.

Beau seriously doubted his brother forgot his helmet. He would no more leave the wire without his brain bucket than without an ample supply of water. “Mom’s Facebook friending my old girlfriends.” Beau took a drink of his coffee, relieved that Blake had dropped the subject of Stella. “Which means she’s contacting your old girlfriends, too.”

Blake nodded. “Mimi Van Hinkle gave Mom her phone number and wanted me to call.”

“I don’t remember Mimi Van Hinkle.”

“Tenth grade. Long blond hair and huge boobs for a sixteen-year-old.”

“Oh yeah. Her brother had that Kawasaki you stole—”

“Borrowed.”

“—borrowed and caught on fire.”

Blake grinned. “The tailpipe got too hot and set the nonregulation seat on fire.” He chuckled. “I bailed just before it blew to Jesus. Kawasaki down.”

“Frag out.”

They looked at each other and laughed like they were sixteen again. Like the only two in on a private joke that no one could possibly understand. Like they were best friends.

And it felt good.

M
orning sun splashed across the hardwood floors and area rugs, and bathed Stella in white. She stood in front of the window, robe wrapped around her body and sunglasses protecting her eyes from the stabbing light. She held a cell phone in her hand, her thumb skimming for messages, voice mails, and missed calls. There were three but none from Beau.

Why hadn’t he called? He’d said he had her back. Where was he? She looked in her contact list for his number and paused with her thumb over his name. Maybe he’d gotten really busy with his brother. Or maybe he thought she was busy with Sadie and was waiting for her to call him. She wanted to talk to him about her night and his. She wanted to call him, even if it was just to hear his voice.

She pressed end instead. She didn’t want to chase him. She’d already coerced him into a physical relationship with her. Okay, yeah, he’d kissed her twice, but he wouldn’t have taken it further if she hadn’t talked him into it. If she hadn’t had to get practically naked in front of him on the balcony above Bourbon Street, they wouldn’t have ended up in bed that night. Or last night, either. She’d never had to talk a man into fooling around. Never seduced him into it. Why Beau?

Beyond his obvious good looks and six-pack abs, she didn’t know. She hadn’t really liked him at first. She wasn’t quite sure when that had changed. Maybe somewhere between Tampa and Biloxi. It didn’t matter now. Because
now
she liked him a whole lot.

She pressed the phone against her lips and pushed aside a panel of the sheer curtains. Several horses roamed around in a corral and barn across the yard while cows in the distance . . . Well, did whatever it was that cows did.

Now that she’d met Sadie, what next? She didn’t have a job or an apartment. She felt like she’d just cleared the last hurdle in a race that had started a week ago. What was she going to do now? Texas had always been the goal, the finish line. Where was she going next? She thought of Beau, but of course he wasn’t the answer to her problems. For a woman who’d taken care of herself for ten years now, it was surprising how fast she’d come to rely on him.

She heard steps behind her and turned to see her sister looking a bit haggard in blue boxers and a “Lovett or Leave It” T-shirt.

Sadie saw Stella’s sunglasses and laughed. “How’s your head feeling?”

“Like I drank too much tequila.”

“Me too.” Sadie sat on the end of the bed and grabbed the ornate iron frame. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. I’m twenty-eight.”

“Your first day here, and I lead you astray.” Her blue eyes looked into Stella’s, and Stella still couldn’t believe she was here at the JH. “I feel like I’ve failed in my big sister duty.”

“Well, you haven’t been a big sister very long.”

“I’d planned to take you for a nice lunch and then a massage at my favorite spa in Amarillo. Really impress you, but I am surely draggin’. Do you mind too much if we stay home today?”