Page 36 of Long Arm of the Cowboy

He was presently on the run with nobody manning the fort back in East Canon and the vicinity. That kid who wanted to bomb the church probably had friends who could still be carrying out the plans by delivering bombs via Quick Bunny. If they did, Clay wouldn’t be around to stop them. He’d be here, running another shit show.

Lark pushed her plate away with a happy moan. “You make really good pancakes, Clay. Thank you.”

“Of course.”

“You’ve been a bachelor a long time. I’m sure you know how to cook all sorts of things.”

He didn’t want to hear about their difference in age anymore. He shoved his chair away from the table and reached out to take their plates to the sink. Lark beat him to it, scooping them up…and dropping a kiss on his cheek on the way by.

Stunned, he sat there, feeling the echo of that kiss long after he heard the sink filling with water. What made her peck his cheek like that? Almost as if they were a couple, and they’d been having breakfast together for a long time.

He was still processing this when his phone vibrated with a text. He swiped the screen and read the incoming message from Julius.

Lark looked at him expectantly.

“The guys are here. I’m going outside to meet them.”

Lark turned from the sink as he stood, forearms damp and sudsy. “The guys your old team sent?”

“Yes.” He’d filled her in while they ate, keeping it simple so as not to feed her any information that may frighten her.

She reached for a paper towel. “I should come outside with you and greet them.”

Again, that sensation of being a couple rolled through him. Damn, he really had crossed boundaries and now was going to pay the price. Setting her straight was going to be rough—the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her.

“You stay here. I’ll bring them inside.”

She cocked her head as if gauging his mood. He didn’t doubt that she was. Either that or she was writing one of her columns about him in her mind.

“I’ll be back in a few.” He headed outside just as the truck rolled into the short gravel driveway.

When he spotted cowboy hats, he grinned. Just seeing those hats roused a feeling of fellowship he’d been missing since leaving WEST’s ranks.

They cut the engine and climbed out, boots crunching on gravel and broad smiles on their faces as they met in front of the truck.

“You’re Lexis,” one brother said.

He held out his hand, and the rugged guy who looked a hell of a lot like his older brothers gripped it hard. “That’s right. You’re Julius?”

He dipped his head in agreement. “You got it.”

Clay turned to Jennings next. The youngest brother had a couple inches of height on the rest of his brothers, but the directness of his gaze reminded him a lot of the oldest brother, Judd.

“Jennings. Damn, I’m glad to have backup.” They shook hands too, and when they broke away, the brothers turned to eye the bomb strapped in the back of Clay’s truck.

“That it?” Julius moved forward.

“Yep.”

They all approached the truck to examine the unit.

“Doesn’t look like a bomb to me,” Jennings said.

“Have you dealt with any before now?” Clay asked.

“A couple. Been keeping it real with some side gigs with the FBI down in Georgia. But never anything like this.”

Clay scrubbed a finger between his brows. “It’s sophisticated, and yet a simple design. At least according to the bomb specialist I sent video to.”

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