Flirting with Texas (Deep in the Heart of Texas) (6 page)

“But you got tied up with your wife and kids?” Peggy Sue delivered a slap to Beau’s cheek that had Jenna cringing. “Shame on you, Beauregard Cates.” She tugged Jenna closer. “Your poor wife stuck in the trailer with your kids while you’re livin’ it up at the Holiday Inn. And here I thought you were one of the good guys.”

Only a slight tightening in Beau’s jaw showed his
irritation. Instead of explaining things to Peggy, he turned to Jenna. “Honey, I thought I told you to never bother me at work.”

As mad as she was at the man, Jenna couldn’t help but be amused. She bit back her smile. “I know you did, su-ugar,” she stretched out the endearment. “But I didn’t want you to go without your lucky hat.” She set the Stetson on his head and jerked it down so far it bent the tops of his ears. “There. Now ain’t that better?”

“Much,” he said between his teeth before he glanced over at Peggy Sue. “If you’ll excuse us, I need to have a word with my… wife.” He latched on to Jenna’s arm and dragged her back the way she’d come.

They ended up in a corridor that smelled of manure and popcorn.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing running around telling people that we’re married?” He dropped her arm and glared down at her.

For some reason, she couldn’t help adjusting the hat on his head and smoothing out the brim. “It was the only story I could think of to get back to see you.”

Beau blinked, and his shoulders relaxed as a smile tipped the corners of his mouth. “You made up that tall tale just to see me? Did you break it off with your nipple-ringed boyfriend?”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t get a big head, Cowboy. I didn’t come to stroke your ego.” She dug around in her tote and pulled out the lavender invitation. “I came to ask you about this.”

It only took one glance for Beau to whip off his hat and slap it against his thigh. “Damn it, Minnie.”

“Minnie? Who is Minnie? And how did she get my
address?” She stepped closer. “You gave it to her, didn’t you? That was why you were following me.” His muteness confirmed her suspicions, and her anger deflated, replaced with bewilderment. “But why?”

Beau combed his fingers through his hair and blew out his breath. “I did it as a favor for Minnie, who manages the henhouse for me.”

“So you’re saying you knew nothing about this?” She flapped the invitation in his face.

Before he could answer the announcer’s voice echoed down the corridor. “Welcome to Madison Square Garden and the fifth annual bull ridin’…”

“Look, Jenna,” Beau said as he pulled his hat back on. “If I was you, I’d just ignore it. Minnie’s old and delusional.” He turned and walked back the way they’d come, his boots clicking on the cement floor and his chaps flapping against his legs.

Jenna looked down at the invitation.

Ignore it?

Not likely.

Being Mrs. Beauregard Cates earned her the right to sit in the box seats with a bunch of beautiful women, who did happen to be married to bull riders, and a couple from Idaho who seemed to be waiting for the cowboys to strip off their clothes. At least, the woman was.

“… my friend, Urlene, got a picture with The Naked Cowboy, but he wasn’t nearly as cute as him.” She jabbed a long nail in the direction of Beau, who had pulled off his hat and placed it over his chest as a rider with the United States flag entered the arena. The woman leaned closer and whispered in an overly loud voice. “Don’t tell Marty, but that cowboy makes my panties do the cha-cha-cha.”

Jenna wished she didn’t know what the woman was talking about. Unfortunately, her panties did more than the cha-cha-cha when Beau had kissed her. They almost incinerated. And it was wrong. So wrong. She loved Davy. She didn’t want a man who strutted around to the screams and sighs of the rodeo “buckle bunnies” like the cock of the walk. A man whose forearms below the rolled-up sleeves of his western shirt were as big as Davy’s calves. A man who didn’t hesitate to position himself over the back of a two-thousand-pound bull who was already slamming into the railing of the holding pen like the Tasmanian Devil.

Switchback seemed to be a favorite of the crowd. The roar was deafening when the announcer said the bull’s name. It was Jenna’s experience that rodeo crowds liked the bulls tossing off the rider more than they liked the rider staying on. And if they loved Switchback, it could only mean one thing.

“… so I told Marty,” the woman next to her continued to ramble as Beau eased down on the back of the bull and secured his gloved hand beneath the rope, “retirement is for enjoying life. Not sitting around watching
The Price Is Right
. That’s why we bought my cousin’s Winni-bago. We plan on traveling all over the country this summer.” She leaned down and picked something up off the floor by Jenna’s feet. “Here, sweetie, you dropped this.”

But Jenna didn’t reach for the invitation. Her gaze was pinned on Beau. It would serve him right if he got his butt tossed to the ground. Which didn’t explain why her stomach clenched when the gate swung open and beast and cowboy whirled out.

Beau hung on, his hand posed behind him and his legs
hugging the animal’s sides. He had almost stayed on for the full eight seconds when the bull switched directions and did a high kick. Beau went sailing. Unfortunately, his hand remained firmly tucked beneath the bull rope.

Jenna came to her feet as his body flopped alongside the still-bucking animal. After what felt like an eternity, he finally freed his hand and landed on his feet, racing over to the railing as the bullfighters corralled the bull back toward the chute.

“The Henhouse?”

Jenna looked down to find the woman reading the invitation, completely unconcerned with what had taken place in the arena.

“Marty,” she jabbed her husband in the ribs, “we need to check this place out. I bet Urlene hasn’t been here.”

Her husband rolled his eyes. “Before or after your picture with The Naked Cowboy? Although it doesn’t look like you’re gonna be gettin’ that.” He pointed his camera and snapped off a shot. “That’s a dislocated shoulder if ever I saw one.”

B
EAU’S SHOULDER THROBBED LIKE A SONOFABITCH
. And to make matters worse he was stuck in a cab with Nurse Ratched, who didn’t seem to understand that when a man was hurt he wanted to be left the hell alone.

“You should’ve taken a painkiller like the doctor said.” Jenna picked up the blue ice bag that he’d hooked over his knee and pressed it to his shoulder. “And keep the ice on it.”

“I don’t need a painkiller or friggin’ ice,” he snapped as he tossed the bag to the floor of the cab.

“My, for such a happy cowboy, you sure are a surly patient.” She sent him a know-it-all look that really got on his last nerve. For a second, he thought about showing her how surly he could be and tossing her ass out of the cab. But then he remembered how well she wrestled, and he figured that with a bum shoulder he’d more than likely lose.

And he’d already lost once that night.

He leaned his head back against the seat and sulked.

Damn the woman for showing up and making him lose
his concentration while riding Switchback. And damn her for realizing he was injured. And really damn her for bringing everyone’s attention to it by climbing over the railing and jumping down from the box seats like some kind of television cop. After completely stunning the crowd, she’d started issuing orders like a marine sergeant with new recruits. The other riders had rushed to do her bidding, going for the rodeo doc and helping Beau down from the rail whether he wanted to be helped or not.

Beau hadn’t wanted the help. He preferred to suffer in private.

He glared out the window. He hated being sick or injured. Hated it with a passion. It was a cruel reminder that, no matter how fast he ran, the grim reaper was just a step behind him.

The buildings outside the window finally drew his attention, and he sat up.

“Just where the hell are we going?”

Jenna lounged back in the seat, casually leafing through the program she’d gotten at the competition. “To my apartment.”

“Oh no, I’m not.” The last thing Beau wanted was to spend the night with Jenna and her nipple-ringed boyfriend. He leaned up to tell the driver to take him to his hotel when a sharp pain shot through his shoulder and forced him to sit back.

“You don’t have a choice.” Jenna reached down, picked up the ice bag, and handed it to him. “Since you refuse to go to the hospital, and the doctor at the arena said that you shouldn’t be alone, I’m your only option.”

“You wouldn’t be if you hadn’t made up that story.” Beau pressed the ice bag to his shoulder. “If you hadn’t
convinced everyone there that you were my loving wife, I could’ve found someone else to nurse me back to health.”

“Like Peggy Sue-per Boobs.”

Beau forced a smile as his gaze slid down to her chest. “I can see where you’d be jealous.”

“Not in the least,” Jenna said. “I wouldn’t lug those things around on a bet. And as for making up the story, I wouldn’t have had to make up anything if you had been truthful with me from the beginning. Which is the other reason that you’re spending the night at my apartment. I want the truth about the invitation.”

The truth.
Beau wasn’t so sure he knew what the truth was. Was Minnie actually thinking about starting up a house of ill repute? Beau refused to believe it. Still, why else would Minnie be searching for long-lost hens?

The taxi pulled up to the curb, and Jenna got out. Beau might’ve remained right where he was if she hadn’t reached in and grabbed his black backpack. He traveled light, but what he did carry he cherished.

With a mumbled curse, he got out of the cab. Jenna was already searching through his pack to pay the cab driver. She pulled out one silver high heel and shot Beau a questioning look. Okay, so maybe he didn’t cherish everything in his backpack. The shoe he had tossed in on a whim.

She had just finished paying the cab driver when something down the street caught her attention. She dropped his backpack and her shoe and took off like a shot, leaving Beau standing in front of her apartment. Her target was a slick blue Mercedes that had just pulled up to the curb. She barely waited for the man in the gray suit to step out before she started yelling.

“I’m through with you terrorizing this neighborhood,
Alejandro! I told you to leave Miguel alone. Since you refuse to listen, I’m going to make your life a living hell. Every time I see you, I’m calling the cops.” She pulled out her cell phone.

The man only smiled. He was a creepy-looking dude with shoulder-length black hair and a pockmarked face.

“Now, chica, why would you want to go and do that? I’m just trying to earn a living.”

“By ruining people’s lives with drugs.” She poked his chest with a finger as if the five thugs that had gotten out of the car with the man weren’t towering over her.

Well, damn.
Beau tossed the ice bag down to his backpack.

Fortunately, before he could intervene and get his ass whupped, a police squad car came around the corner. Alejandro’s smile dropped, and he motioned for his posse. Like cockroaches, they all disappeared inside the building where the Mercedes was parked.

“Do you always make friends so easily?” Beau asked when Jenna came striding back over and picked up his backpack, her shoe, and the ice bag.

She tucked a shoulder under his arm and pulled him up the front steps. “I guess I’m just personable.”

Moments later, Beau stood in the small living room of Jenna’s apartment.

“You can have the bedroom.” She led him into the next room. “Davy works nights, and I don’t have a problem sleeping on the couch.”

Beau might’ve argued if the couch hadn’t been the size of a saddle blanket. The bed wasn’t much bigger. Still, he sighed with relief when he sank down into the saggy mattress. Jenna didn’t waste any time straddling each leg and
pulling off his boots. Even as tired as he was, he couldn’t help noticing her butt. It wasn’t really a butt. More like an extension of her mile-long legs. Beau preferred lush, round bottoms with enough junk in the trunk to hold on to.

Which didn’t explain the spiral of heat that settled in his crotch.

Thankfully, once his boots were off, she left him to finish getting undressed. It wasn’t easy with one hand and a sling to contend with. After the hassle of getting his shirt off, he decided to leave his jeans on and climbed into bed. He had just punched down the pillow when he heard the shower, followed by Jenna singing. And the woman was no Carrie Underwood. Still, the night’s events caught up with him, and Beau dozed off before she got to the part about digging a key into the paint of some poor guy’s truck. He didn’t know how long he slept. He woke to a dark room and a cool hand pressed to his brow.

“I brought you some water and your pain pills,” Jenna said as she clicked on a small lamp. The light had Beau squinting for a few seconds before his vision cleared.

Jenna sat on the edge of the bed in a tiny little white tank that clung to her small, high breasts like a second skin and a pair of plaid boxers with the baggy legs riding high on firm thighs.

“How are you feeling?” She handed him the water, but he refused the pills. He’d rather have pain than numbness.

He took a sip of water and flexed his shoulder. It still hurt like hell, but not as bad as before. “Better.” He handed her back the glass. Their fingers brushed, and with the contact came a swift bolt of desire.

It made no damned sense. She wasn’t even close to the
type of woman he preferred. She was too skinny. Too flat chested. And way too involved with another man. Which was why he’d spent the last few days trying to put her out of his mind. It hadn’t been easy. The kiss they had shared slipped in when he least expected it. And if he were truthful, he would have to admit that a part of him had been overjoyed to see her at Madison Square Garden. The part that couldn’t seem to take his eyes off the tiny little nubs poking through her white top.

“You’re certainly in a better humor,” she said.

Beau lifted his gaze. “I’m sorry about that. I’m a pretty shitty patient.” He leaned back on the pillows. “So why did you do it? Why would you bring home a stranger? And don’t give me that bit about the invitation.”