Page 25 of Piece Of Me

“Did you just give me a nickname?”

“I guess I did.” He winked. “That’s what friends do.” A heartbeat passed. “And trust me, we’re going to be real good friends.”

Scarlett had nothing. No comeback. No words. No actions. She pushed past the man and didn’t stop running until she hopped into her brother’s truck.

“Were you just making out with Taz Pullman?” Ryland looked at her like she had two heads.

“What if I was?”

“You have a baby.”

Was that judgement coming from her kid brother? “And?”

“Well, I don’t know. Is it allowed?” His expression was comical, and any other time Scarlett might have found it amusing. But right now, she had other things on her mind.

“Just drive,” she replied sinking back in her seat. “And don’t tell anyone you saw that.”

“Not even Millie Sue?”

“Especially not Millie.”

“She probably wouldn’t like you shoving your tongue down her best friend’s throat.”

“I didn’t shove my tongue down his throat.”

“If you say so.”

She gave him a look, the look, but Ryland kept his eyes straight ahead as they drove out to Dry Lake Road. “Scar?”

“Yes?”

“You look real pretty tonight.”

“You’re just saying that because you know I’m pissed off.”

“Yep.” He grinned at her and winked. “But it’s 100% the truth.”

She rested her head against the window and stared out into the night. She was buzzed, love drunk on the kind of need she hadn’t felt in ages. Shit, she thought with a frown.

I hope I have batteries for the damn vibrator.

CHAPTER 8

The rain stopped sometime overnight, and the ground, parched and thirsty, had sucked most of it up, leaving only traces of mud behind. It seemed as if the grass was greener, the flowers taller and more colorful, and the air had a freshness to it that had been missing the day before.

Taz stood in the middle of the smallest paddock, eyes on a pair of horses Angel had delivered an hour ago. One, a young chestnut colt less than a year old, was rambunctious, kicking up his heels and making a fuss of things as he ran circles around the mare. He had three white socks and a blaze of white down his nose, a mirror image of his mama. She on the other hand, was nervous as hell, and eyed Taz with distrust.

She’d been handled badly.

“Where’d they come from?” Martha Pullman leaned against the fence, shielding her eyes from the sunlight as she watched the animals. She’d just brought the twins home, and he spied them by the barn, following a pack of chickens as they searched for food.

“Texas, I think.” He hopped the fence and settled in beside his mother. “Mama was headed to slaughter because she’s hard to handle, and the colt was going with her.”

“They have good lines.”

“They do. The colt we’ll be able to rehome when he’s ready.”

“And the mare?”

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