Page 16 of Snow in Texas

Fox shrugged and sipped his sweet tea. “Because Candy asked us to be here.”

“Okay, maybe you were asked, but I was ordered. And it’d be cool to know what or who I’m supposed to be looking out for.”

The look Fox sent him was faintly patronizing.

“What? I’m just saying.”

Fox shook his head and turned away. “Watch Jenny. If someone tries to jump her, I’d say it’s a safe bet you ought to respond.”

“You’re just helpful as shit, aren’t you?”

“Careful, prospect.”

Fuck me.

The door opened again, then again, light beaming across the floor in strobe fashion as one after the next after the next lunchtime regular began to filter in. A sudden strong smell of sautéed onions announced the official changing of the menu.

Boot heels clipped toward them and Jenny arrived with a pitcher of tea to refill them, and heaping hot plates of potatoes with gravy, chicken fried steak, and wilted greens.

“Here boys, before it gets too late,” she explained, setting down their food and topping off their drinks.

“Thanks, love,” Fox said.

Colin said, “I’ve been wondering something.”

She lifted her brows.

“How much do those boots cost?”

She made an exasperated sound and turned away.

“Hey, I’m just curious. I wanna know how expensive you are.” He laughed when she tossed her hair in a clearly dismissive gesture.

“Idiot,” Fox said.

The restaurant filled up with bodies and voices, and they attacked their lunches silently. Fox only ate half his potatoes, slid the plate over, and Colin scooped them onto his own plate.

As he shoveled in food, he glanced regularly up at Jenny, working the counter with her bright smile pinned in place. She seemed easy and relaxed with the customers, not tense the way she was with him. Still, he detected a scrap of something raw beneath her surface, an odd light in her eyes that shouldn’t have been there.

He guessed needing a security detail would do that to a person.

Between one bite of steak and the next, something changed. Colin stiffened, fork hovering in the air, as he registered the scene across the room.

Jenny had her hands on the cash register, fingers curled tight, white as bone at the knuckles. Her body was frozen; he couldn’t even see her breathing, her chest unmoving. Face caught between fight and flight, blue eyes huge.

Fear. Cold and intense.

Across the counter, a man in a blue suit smiled at her in a way that turned Colin’s lunch to lead in his gut.

“Who’s that?” he asked, swallowing down steak that tried to stick in his throat. He set his fork down, made a reflexive reach for his waistband and the borrowed gun hidden beneath his cut.

“Ah, shit.” In a sequence of fluid moves, Fox was on his feet and headed for the counter.

Colin was sitting on the far side of the table, but beat the Englishman to it, arriving at the front counter first, planting a hand down and putting himself in the suit wearer’s face.

“Hey,” he said, voice heavy with his native accent.

“Oh God,” Jenny whispered, and his eyes flicked to her, saw the naked terror on her face and wanted to strangle someone.

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