Page 8 of Rainwater
Panic gripped him and squeezed. He didn’t want to be recognized. He didn’t want to hear the whispered voices saying, “Lost his nerve…almost killed by that bull…doesn’t ride anymore…coward.”
Abruptly he turned away and said icily, “I don’t follow the circuit anymore, old man.” The finality in his voice stopped whatever the man was going to say.
When his meal arrived, he ate, avoiding any more eye contact with the man or the waitress. When he finished, he paid for his meal and walked out.
A voice raised in anger made his head jerk up. He squinted against the blaze of the sun and wished he’d brought his sunglasses.
Wasn’t that Jennifer Horn’s husky voice he heard? When he spied her truck with the Triple X’s on the side, he made his way across the street.
Jennifer was spitting mad.Jay had waylaid her at the feed store. Obviously he had guessed that this would be one of her stops andhad planned to ambush her. Right now he had his hand around her wrist, his fingers digging into her flesh, squeezing so tightly she was sure he would break the bones.
Her lips still stung from his brutal kiss. She hoped his face was still throbbing from the slap she’d given him.
“Jay, let go!” Her voice was getting more frantic than angry, and in pain and desperation, she brought her knee up. But he turned and the blow just caught the inside of his thick thigh. He laughed with malicious glee, the sound grating her nerve endings.
Just when she thought she would scream from the excruciating pain, his hold loosened and she looked down to see Jay in the dust. Only this time, he was flat on his back. Her outlaw stood menacingly over him, his boot planted against Jay’s chest, his thumbs hooked into a pair of worn denim blue jeans.
“Jackasses never learn,” he said with such steel-edged derisive amusement she saw Jay stiffen. “But when you’re dealing with dumb animals, it takes a few times before they understand what you want them to do.” He shook his head in condemnation, causing his hair to swing around his shoulders. She was mesmerized as the silky mass slid over the soft material of his deep purple shirt. She wondered if the color would deepen the hue in his eyes.
Even though he had his back to her, she could see the threat of violence in every line of his body. She could tell he wanted to beat Jay by the way he stood, his hip thrust out as some kind of challenge. A human-male call of the wild.
She wasn’t worried about Jay, he deserved everything he got, but he was vindictive and he could cause a considerable ruckus for this green-eyed man who just wanted to be left alone. But twice now he’d risked his solitude to protect her.
She moved forward, placing the hand with the aching wrist against the steel of his bare forearm. It was a warm day and he’d rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. He was hatless and he’d shaved. It made him look more vulnerable and less unapproachable. Still an outlaw, though, with his firm jaw and the aura of danger that sparked around him.
His face was thunderous, his eyes a dark and stormy turquoise. The heat of his skin was like a shock coursing through her palm and up her arm. She wanted to caress his soft hair-roughened skin beneath her hand with a most unbelievable need. The tenseness of his body, taut like a strung bow, belied the lazy drawl of his voice.
“Mr. Rainwater,” she said, “please don’t. Just let him go.”
Corey removed his boot and stood in a threatening gunslinger stance, as if Jay were suddenly going to draw on him.
Jay cursed a vicious oath and scrambled to his feet, his wary eyes watching Corey with hatred.
Those angry eyes moved to her and a sudden chill of fear brushed down her spine. Clearly, she’d made a powerful enemy. “This discussion isn’t over, Jennifer,” he snapped, brushing the dust off his clothes.
“Just what is it you want from her?” Corey’s voice was quietly cold and raised warning gooseflesh over her skin. The promise in his tone was a challenge she knew Jay wasn’t ready to take on—at least, not alone. Corey’s forearm tightened beneath her hand, his own hand drawing into a fist. She exerted a light pressure and he seemed to relax.
“I want her to pay my dry-cleaning bill,” he whined.
Corey snorted in disgust. “What for?”
Jay’s face turned sullen and his eyes darted to hers. “She poured a pitcher of beer over my best shirt two nights ago. I want retribution.”
Corey slid a glance sideways, a smile flashing on his handsome face. “You did that, Jennifer?” His tone was so full of mockery that she laughed, knowing he was gibing Jay.
“I confess. I’m the guilty party,” she replied with mock sheepishness.
His conspiratorial grin widened, and she found herself grinning back. He held her gaze longer than necessary and she floundered before the hot brilliance. Far back in his eyes, hunger flickered like heat lightning. The shock of his hunger ran through her body, beating in time to her own. Abruptly he stopped being a stranger to her. The conspiracy and the possessive way he looked at her made him familiar and coveted. Jennifer’s hand clenched around the warm skin of his forearm. She needed something to anchor herself right now.
“I’m appalled at you,” he said in a mock-scolding voice. A shrewd teasing gleam twinkled in his hot eyes before he pulled his gaze away and fastened it on Jay. “Your favorite shirt? That must have been awful for you. I can certainly see why you’d want to terrorize a woman, especially if your advances were unwanted.” Corey reached into his pocket and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill while Jay called him the most filthy names. Corey stilled and his eyes narrowed with menace. “Watch your mouth, or I’ll close it for you.” He held out the bill. “Here. This should take care of your fancy clothes,” he said with scathing force. When Jay reached for it, Corey dropped it to the ground.
Jay picked up the twenty, and as he rose, Corey leaped forward and with one smooth motion, pivoted and slammed Jay up against the feed store wall. “Don’t go near her again, cowboy.” His voice was deceptively mild, deceptively soft. Steel couldn’t be harder.
Fear blossomed in Jay’s eyes as he obviously realized that he was dealing with a very deadly, very protective man. In that same chilling voice, Corey continued, “If you’re walking downthe same street, you cross over to the other side. Get my drift? If you don’t, you’ll have me to answer to.”
A strangledyescame out of Jay’s tight sullen mouth. Corey let him go and he backed up, rubbing his beefy neck. “I’m not afraid of you,” he said with false bravado, his eyes telling the real story.
Corey didn’t even acknowledge that Jay spoke. Very deliberately, he turned his back. The motion was as good as a slap in the face.
