Page 48 of Texas Hold Em'
Trying to sleep was truly pointless.
So I got out of bed, threw on a pair of sweats and a loose tank top, and padded out into the apartment, where I found Tex predictably smoking in the pit. He had the metal door propped open with a wastebasket from under the kitchen sink, and he was peeling an apple and tossing the skin into the bin while he held his cigarette between his lips.
He looked up from his apple peeling when I filled the doorway and wrapped my arms around myself.
“Can’t sleep?”
I shook my head.
He cut me off an apple wedge and handed it to me on the knife. I pulled it free, the juices making it stick to the blade, and took a bite. It was fresh and crisp, more sour than sweet. My cheeks puckered.
He smiled and the cigarette dangled dangerously. “Well, if you can’t sleep, we might as well head to Grant’s.”
My stomach threatened to fall out of my body, and I pressed my hands to my gut instinctively. “I can’t face them,” I whispered.
“You don’t have to do it alone.”
“They’re going to hate me even more than they already do.”
“None of them hate you. Except Jackson. But Jackson takes longer to warm up to people than the rest of us. He’s got baggage. Just try not to provoke him this time and you’ll be fine.”
“Try not to provoke him? He’ll be provoked as soon as he hears what I did last night.”
“It doesn’t have to come from you.” Tex pulled the last slice of apple from the edge of his blade with his teeth. He tossed the apple core in the wastebasket and the cigarette returned once more to his lips. He took three more drags before putting it out. “I’ll do the talking. You just keep your head down for once. Think you can handle that?”
I licked my lips. “Maybe.”
Tex wrapped an arm behind my waist and pulled me up against him. It surprised me, and I let out a little gasp before he put a hand under my chin and forced me to look up at him.
“I mean it, Carrie. Head down. I’ll do the talking. Even if Jackson tries to get a rise out of you, don’t respond. It will only add heat to the fire and we need this conversation to go in our favor.”
“Is that an order?”
“An order, a request. It’s whatever you need it to be in order for you to listen.”
Despite the tightness in my chest and my stomach still trying to vacate its host, I smiled. “I’ll behave.”
I scratched at my upper arms as we walked up Grant’s driveway and Tex paused to unlatch the metal gate into the backyard.
He frowned at me. “You’re scratching yourself raw.”
“It’s a nervous habit. Leave me alone.”
He drew the gate open and latched it behind us. I hovered around him like a six-year-old, desperate for his reassurance and protection as I continued scratching at my arms despite the way my skin burned. Tex grabbed me by the shoulders before taking both of my hands in his and holding them firmly between his palms. His grip was warm and steady as he looked into my eyes.
“Enough of this,” he said. “You’re a Ranger, Carrie Hart. Even if you want to run away and hide, right now is the time to put your big girl fucking pants on and pretend you know what the fuck you’re doing. You hear me?”
I blinked.
He released my hands. “You can scratch yourself until you have hives on the drive home. But right now, pull it together. Don’t show a weakness. You can do this.”
Yes, I can.
I didn’t start scratching again. I followed him across the gravel to the shop. The bay doors were open, and all of the men, as well as Suzie, were tinkering away on bikes or other projects. Unable to help myself, I immediately sought out Jackson. He stood at the back of the shop with his back to me. He spoke to Mason, who stood beside him. Mason laughed at something Jackson said, but his eyes were on Suzie as she wrestled with a bolt on a bike.
Mason tapped Jackson’s shoulder when he saw Tex and me coming.
I reminded myself of what Tex had just said.I’m a Ranger. I can do this.
