Page 7 of I Want Crazy (Loco, Texas 3)

lling to seek out.

Despite her reservations, her boredom won out, and she got up and maneuvered through the crowd toward him. When she tried to get past the group of cowboys, though, one of them blocked her way.

“Well, hey there, darlin’. Haven’t seen you before.”

“Not interested.”

She tried to move around him again, and he blocked her once more. “How do you know? You haven’t even heard my best line.”

Jessie eyed him up and down, a smirk settling over her lips. “Sorry, but you must be this tall” —she held her hand several inches over his head, and he looked up— “to ride.”

The cowboy puffed up on his stacked boots and gained an inch on her, including his hat. “Wait a minute. You’re that woman from California, the one who bought the Watering Hole.”

“How did you guess?” Jessie knew she was just riling the little prick, but really, who could take him seriously with his pants so tight?

Either he missed the sarcasm because of the noise, or he was just an idiot. “Because you’re the only uppity bitch I’ve met tonight.”

She covered her chest with her hands. “Oh wow. That really hurts.”

He caught her tone that time, because he grabbed her arm in a viselike grip. “You’ve got a real smart mouth on you for an outsider. Seems like your mama—”

The cowboy stopped talking when a large hand grabbed his shoulder and jerked him around. “Let the lady go.”

Jessie didn’t know who was more surprised by Big Red’s rescue, her or the cowboy, who swallowed so hard she’d swear his Adam’s apple disappeared.

Jessie looked over and noticed that the rest of the cowboy’s group had finally realized their friend was in trouble and were backing him up. The cowboy’s grip tightened on her arm, and his face flushed.

“Why don’t you mind your own business, Red?”

Jessie was tired of their staring contest, and her arm was starting to tingle with pain. Stepping into the cowboy, she hit him across the trachea with the side of her other hand, and he released her to clutch his throat, falling back against his buddies, gasping. Rubbing her arm, she glared at the cowboy, then shifted her attention to Red.

“Thanks for trying to be a hero, but I can handle myself.”

To her confusion, Red sighed. “Ah, hell.”

Before she could protest, he thrust her behind him. She turned back around just in time to see him catch Shorty the Cowboy’s raised fist, crushing it in his bearlike hand.

“Didn’t your mama tell you not to hit a woman?”

Then all hell broke loose.

* * *

Why the hell did you have to get involved?

Red didn’t have an answer as he pushed the short cowboy away and got a hard right to his jaw. Five to one weren’t exactly his favorite odds, but he’d been through worse.

He caught one cowboy in a headlock and kicked out at another, catching him in the gut. The guy fell back into a table of women, knocking their pitcher of beer all over, and the screams exploded. He felt something at his back and turned just in time to watch Jessie bring a stool down hard on one of the cowboys’ shoulders, knocking him out. Jessie held the chair out in front of her like a shield, glaring at Shorty as he eyed her and the chair.

Red couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face. Who knew Miss California would be good in a bar fight.

“Look out!” she yelled, and he spun around, pushing the cowboy in the headlock away in time to prevent his arm getting sliced by a broken bottle.

“That is enough!” a thunderous voice boomed, and Red realized the entire bar, including the band, had frozen. Red looked over his shoulder at Wyatt Mitchell holding a shotgun and looking pissed.

“Next fucker that moves gets buried beneath the floorboards.”

Nobody moved, and Wyatt pointed at Red. “Get the fuck out of my bar. And take her with you.”

---