Page 54 of Snow in Texas

“You guys interrogated Pup,” she guessed, and he didn’t have a good enough poker face to keep from confirming it with a look. “Was it bad?”

“You know I can’t tell you anything about it.”

She smiled. He was starting to have more club-like responses to things. Which was good…except they needed refining. “Yeah, you can,” she said. “Do you think the guys follow that no-talking rule to the letter?”

He stared at her, asking silently.

“Well, they don’t.” She nudged him with her elbow. “Pup wet his pants. Okay. Embarrassing. But not lethal. Did it get worse than that?”

Colin glanced away with a disbelieving sound. “No.” A grudging admission.

A deep groove marred the side of his face, an unhappy bracket of stress curving around his downturned lips. Jenny felt a sudden impulse to touch it, and didn’t fight it, reached to trace the line with her fingertip. He jerked as if startled, and his eyes slid toward her, but he didn’t pull back. If anything, he seemed to lean into the pressure of her hand.

She grinned. She’d once watched a documentary about the North American mountain lion. Animals who resisted only managed to drag the big cat’s claws deeper into their skin. But the smart prey animals leaned into the pressure, and could sometimes find an escape route, once the claws released.

“What?”

“Nothing. Just thinking about mountain lions.”

“Come again?”

Jenny curled her hand around the back of his neck. The skin was warm, smooth, his throat a strong column of muscle against her thumb. “You’re right,” she said, resting her chin against his shoulder. “Thereisa difference between trying to scare someone for fun, and scaring him for real. Just like there’s a difference between hunting and poaching.”

His brows lifted, a cautious gleam stealing into his eyes.

“Your dad hunted gators. For fun?”

“It was his living.”

“Right. But there were people who poached gators for the thrill of it, weren’t there? Who wanted a trophy? Who were just being…”

He drew upright, suddenly, sitting stiff and straight on the edge of the mattress, so her hand slid down his back. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying…” She kept her voice even, gentle, “that in Candy’s world, violence done in the name of protecting the family or the club is honorable. And violence done for fun is what’s cruel.”

“Candy’s world.” His expression darkened, black brows tucking low. “Your world, you mean.”

“My world,” she confirmed.

“So the way you see it,I’mthe asshole.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“But that’s what you think.”

Jenny took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I think the world’s a helluva lot softer than it used to be a long time ago. And I think your average person off the street sees the club as something awful…when it’s really just something basic and masculine we lost along the way.”

He stared at her.

“Doing cruel things out of loyalty and love isn’t half as cruel as doing them just because,” Jenny said, the words clashing with her soft tone. “But that’s just what I think. You’re entitled to your own opinion.”

More staring.

A lot of staring.

Angry-faced, brain-cramped, adorable staring.

“Colin.”

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