Page 36 of I Want Crazy (Loco, Texas 3)

Jessie was lying in bed, trying to fall asleep, when the familiar chirp of her phone brought a smile to her lips. Rolling across the bed, she picked up the phone and tapped on the text envelope.

It’s a beautiful night. Wanna come out and play?

She crawled off the bed and padded over to the window, looking down at the dark Charger parked in front of her hotel.

With a wide grin, she typed: Give me a minute to get dressed.

Grabbing a pair of jeans from her suitcase, and her sweatshirt, she dressed quickly and walked softly down the stairs, as if she was sneaking out of her parents’ house. She passed the front desk, which was empty, and out the front door to where Red waited.

Knocking on the Charger’s window, she waited for him to unlock the door, but instead, he got out and came around.

“Okay, getting out of the car just to unlock my door is silly, and—”

“Just say thank you, and get in.” Red reached between her and the door to unlock it. “I want to show you something.”

His nearness sent her pulse into overdrive, and she let him take her hand, his warm palm enveloping hers as he helped her into the car. After he shut the door and ran around to her side, he shot her a mischievous grin. “Are you ready?”

“Suddenly, I’m frightened,” she said, grabbing the “oh, shit” handle.

He took off down the street and out of town. “I promise to keep you safe.”

Jessie watched. “So, where are you taking me?”

“I thought we’d do a little night fishing,” he said.

She whipped her head around and waited for him to say he was joking. She was disappointed.

Jessie made a disgusted face. “I hate fish.”

“How can you say that when you’ve never had my fish?”

“Fish is fish, no matter who makes it. The bones, the eyes…” She shuddered for emphasis.

“Okay, so you hate fish. But, do you hate fishing?”

That gave her pause. Her dad had taken her quite a bit when she was little, but she couldn’t remember not liking it. Then again, she enjoyed almost anything she did with her dad.

“I don’t think so,” she said honestly. “It’s been a long time.”

“Who did you go with as a kid?” He slowed the car and turned down a bumpy dirt road. The trees surrounding it made it seem dark and scary.

“Are you sure you aren’t taking me out here to murder me?”

They came upon a gate with a No Trespassing sign. Shutting the car off, he turned in his seat to face her. “I have better things planned for you than foul play.”

“Foul play? You talk sometimes like my Freshman English teacher, and she was almost eighty.”

He leaned toward her. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

Before she could answer, he was pushing his car door open and climbing out.

“I hated that teacher,” she grumbled as she followed suit.

He was at the back of the Charger, popping the trunk and pulling out an old green tackle box, two poles, and a plastic bag.

Handing her the bag, he closed the trunk with a wicked grin. “You can carry the bait.”

She took the bag and rolled her eyes. “What, am I supposed to be scared of a can of worms?”

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