Last of the Red-Hot Cowboys (22 page)

“Ivy's looking mighty fine tonight,” Saint said, and Judy turned to glare at him.

“Really?” Judy said.

“Sorry,” Saint murmured.

But it was true. No wonder Judy had such a bite where Ivy was concerned.

“Who told you we were out here?” Judy asked Trace.

“I have radar,” Trace said, not looking back at Cameron. Ava'd heard Cameron tell Saint, and she thought Trace was a hero for not letting on. She glanced into the backseat, saw that Saint was taking a discreet sniff of Cameron's hair, and that Declan
was gazing longingly at Harper, who paid him no attention as she followed the action at the Honky-tonk.

“Are we going in?” Trace asked.

“No!” Judy glared at him. “I wouldn't put my team in danger.”

Trace looked at her. “Judy, you brought these girls to Hell to even the game. To give you a posse.”

Judy blinked. “Absurd. Trace, sometimes I wonder if your mother dropped you on your head more than once.”

He laughed, winked at Ava. Ava tried not to notice how wonderful he smelled, all manly and leathery, jammed up against his chest the way she pretty much was.

Okay, she wasn't trying that hard to get away from his chest—and maybe she was even tucked up a closer than she ought to be, considering their standoff. But after he'd just about kissed her into a slow, tantalizing coma, she desperately wanted a little more.

So much more.

Which just couldn't happen, because as they'd agreed, he was something of a rat bastard, and she didn't have time for that. She couldn't let herself and her family down. This was her shot.

No good-timing, wild-eyed cowboy could shake her from her goal.

“So now what?” Declan asked. “Your backup has arrived.”

“Your princes, even,” Saint said, surreptitiously eying Cameron's lips. “You're safe with us if you want to make your move, Judy.”

“Make my move,” the mayor murmured, and suddenly, Ava realized that the men were gently taunting Judy into doing something they knew she really wanted to do.

Confront Ivy on her turf.

A knock on the window made everyone gasp.

Judy glared out at Steel.

“Let me in!” he said. “Hurry before she sees me!”

Judy released the locks and Steel squeezed in, no easy feat, even in this “big-ass” truck. The only way he managed it was because the men in back scooped the ladies into their laps—or maybe Cameron and Harper had scooted into their laps. It happened so quickly Ava wasn't sure.

“I followed you,” he said to Saint and Trace and Declan. “I was coming over to steal a beer, saw you guys take off. Figured I'd follow along just for fun. And here you are, on a Friday night, just where I wouldn't expect you to be.” He shook his head woefully at Judy, who was eying him in the rearview mirror. “What are you up to, beautiful?”

“Not a thing,” Judy said sweetly. “Just taking the girls on a tour of Hell.”

Steel eyed her like he didn't believe a word of it, which was wise, because Ava knew Judy hadn't brought them on a tour so much as a scouting mission.

The mayor was definitely up to something.

“Are we going in?” Steel asked, and Judy jumped.

“Of course not! I wouldn't take my girls in there.” Her tone was haughty, but she was fibbing like a politician. Ava caught Trace smiling at her, and sort of wished they'd been in the backseat so she would have had an excuse to crawl into his lap.

Her friends looked so happy—very cozy back there.

Steel laughed. “Don't let me stop you, gorgeous.”

Judy blinked. “Are you challenging me, Steel?”

“Yes, I am, darling.” Steel grinned. “You've been spoiling for a battle with Ivy for a long time. There's no time like the present.”

Judy glared at him. She switched on the engine. “Everybody out of the truck. My girls and I have an early morning tomorrow.”

“Hang on.” Trace leaned forward, peering out at the partyers. “Is that Wild Jack?”

His buddies leaned forward. “Wow,” Declan said. “Nobody ever sees him in public much lately.”

“Is that Judge Rory Nunez?” Steel asked, and Ava felt the tension in the truck ratchet up like crazy.

“That's not good,” Trace murmured, and they all stared out at the Honky-tonk, dumbfounded. Ava could see the judge talking to Wild Jack, then Wild Jack slapping the judge on the back and the men walking inside together.

“That's all wrong,” Saint said. “We've got to go in.”

“No,”
Judy said, a sudden edge in her voice.

Ava glanced at Judy, who looked out the window, clearly not about to state the
reason for her objection—but they all knew.

Judy didn't want Steel anywhere near Ivy. And as Saint had noted, Ivy looked fine tonight.

Ava didn't know if Ivy looked finer tonight than any other night, but she'd looked awfully pretty, and the mayor seemed eager to keep her man and her enemy separated.

“Maybe we could go in, and Judy and Steel could wait here,” Ava suggested. “Sort of like manning a getaway car.”

Trace smiled at her, and she bathed in the admiration in his dark eyes. “Sounds like a good plan.”

Steel opened the door. “I'm going in.”

“Steel!” Judy exclaimed.

“I have to, Judy. The judge is one of my best friends. Whatever he's getting involved in, I need to make sure he doesn't.”

He slammed the door and headed toward the Honky-tonk. Judy gasped.

“Trace! Stop him!”

Ava looked at Trace, who was watching the sheriff lope across the two-lane country road that ran in front of the Honky-tonk. “I can't, Judy.”

“Why not?”

“Because.” He shrugged. Then he looked at Ava, and Ava realized Trace was worried. Really worried.

But he wasn't about to stop the sheriff.

* * *

This wasn't good. It was so not good that it bordered on really bad, and Trace wished like hell all of them were back at his place, sucking on beers and maybe spreading a few kisses around.

Hell, even suggesting Bare-ass Naked Twister or whatever his lunkheaded friends called it would be better than sitting here next to a worried, steaming Judy. Either way, he was going to get slapped—or worse. If something happened to Steel, he'd be in trouble—and if Ivy happened to Steel, he'd be in bigger trouble.

But he knew too well why Steel was going in, and he understood it, and he even applauded it. Buddies were buddies, and the judge and Steel went way back to grade school. Just as important, Steel's Saturday nights with Judy had been suspended, and Steel had something to prove.

He wanted Judy to know that Steel was still strong and able, a hero in cowboy boots. The sheriff she'd fallen in love with.

The dynamics were shifting slowly the sheriff's way, the power not all in Judy's delicate hands.

Trace wasn't about to butt in. He understood it, and privately he cheered it.

Ava stared at him, not condemning, just curious.

He didn't let his gaze wander to her lips. It nearly strained his eyeballs to keep them above her nose, but he manfully sucked it up.

If he was the sheriff, he'd want to be the hero in his girl's eyes, too. Anything to get that glow of admiration and heat a woman had when looking at a man she thought was strong, and badass, and all hers.

I've got it so bad
.

So bad he even understood what was driving Steel.

Ava squeezed his hand, and his gaze riveted to hers. She was
worried
about him. It was written all over her cute little pixie face.

This woman kept her emotions under wraps even tighter than he did, but at that moment Trace's mind took in one thing quite clearly: Ava
liked
him.

She wasn't going to let on, no matter what. Maybe she wouldn't even admit it to herself.

But she did like him, and the realization warmed him. He had a chance. Maybe not a huge one, but he did have a chance.

And chances sometimes turned into real opportunities.

He didn't intend to blow his chance.

Ava had never been in a bar fight, or a saloon brawl, or whatever one called this. But as the inner sanctum of Ivy's Honky-tonk got crazy with name-calling and male strutting and Mayor Judy bearing down on Ivy with the clear intention of ripping out every strand of her two-toned hair, Ava knew tonight was going to be her first time.

Trace edged up behind her, his muscular weight against her back. “Stay close to me.”

“Okay.” She eyed Steel, who was approaching the judge at a good clip, as the Horsemen lined up to see who would take the first swing and Ivy's girls angled to get close to an Outlaw. Suddenly a bottle flew through the air, shattering against a wall and barely missing Declan. Wild Jack sat on the bar counter, laughing, his oversized cowboy hat askew on his forehead, egging on everyone in the bar to fight.

It was on. Ava gasped as Trace pushed her behind a wall. “Stay there.”

He threw himself into the melee.

“This isn't good,” Cameron said. “What do we do?”

Ava watched Judy go for Ivy, who'd been making a beeline for Steel. “We help Judy, that's what we do.”

“My son will be here in a couple of days. I could get myself in trouble with the courts if I'm arrested,” Harper said, peering through the hanging smoke.

A scrum of Outlaws and Horsemen were mixing it up. Judy had reached Steel, who seemed surprised to see her at his side. The mayor took Ivy by her beautiful hair and dragged her out a side door. The last thing Ava wanted was to get involved, but Judy had brought her to Hell and given her a chance at a different life and her dreams. “I'm going after Judy.”

She hurried to find Judy. Outside the bar, she was relieved to see that the two women were just yelling at each other. “Come on, Judy. Let's get out of here.”

She tried to drag Judy off, and Cameron and Harper came to help her, but Judy was determined to finish saying her piece to Ivy. There was a lot Judy had on her mind—
she'd been storing it up for a while—and Judy wasn't the world's most short-winded person anyway.

Still, it was just talk—until one of Ivy's girls got to Judy, silver scissors flashing in the air before Ava could stop her.

And then there on the ground lay a huge chunk of that big-ass blonde hair Judy was so proud of. Ava gasped, jumping to wrestle the scissor-bearing woman to the ground and taking her weapon. She'd grown up with brothers, so Ava knew something about wrestling and playing rough and could hold her own.

Until someone dragged her off the girl, who lay on the ground moaning. Ava thought she might have accidentally on purpose given Ivy's girl a small shiner to take home as a souvenir.

“So much for staying behind me,” Trace said, pulling her away.

“Judy needed me.” As Trace dragged her across the street toward Judy's truck, she saw Harper and Cameron hooking the other Outlaws, pulling them toward the truck. Steel was keeping Ivy and Judy separated, and the Horsemen circled, eying their chance for a shot.

“You stay in this truck,” Trace said, “with the keys in the ignition, and be ready to drive like the wind when I get all the cats herded in. Okay?”

She nodded. Was that blood on Trace's arm? She wasn't sure, but this was certainly no game. Ava turned the ignition on, ready to make a getaway. Cameron and Harper jumped into the truck, squeezing together.

“It's crazy in there!” Cameron gasped.

Steel tossed Judy over his shoulder, and he and his buddies made a beeline toward the truck. Cameron and Harper threw the doors open.

“No,” Steel said, “this one's mine.” He made his wild-eyed lady get into his truck. The rest of the Outlaws jumped into Judy's.

“Go,” Trace said. “Don't stop for anything.”

She mashed the pedal and pulled away.

“Holy crap,” Declan said, “that was amazing! Felt like old times!”

“You're all certifiable.” Ava glanced in the rearview mirror, saw Cameron sitting in Declan's lap and Harper in Saint's. That was all backasswards, but in their hurry to get
the hell out of Dodge, everyone had ended up wherever they could.

“Good job,” Trace murmured.

“Thanks.” Her fingers relaxed a little on the steering wheel now that they were safely away. “Where to?”

“My house. We'll park Judy's truck there. Steel's not going to let Judy out of his sight, so his Saturday Night Special may come a night early. I'm going to put in a call to Dr. Ann.”

“Why?” Saint eased up to peer at him.

“I may have her take a look at my arm.”

Ava gasped when she glanced at it. “That's going to need stitches.”

“I think it might.”

“Damn, Trace,” Saint said. “Someone peg you?”

“I'll call Dr. Ann,” Declan said.

“Why aren't we taking you to a hospital?” Ava asked. Not that she was an expert, but she'd seen horses stitched up many times, and Trace's arm looked like it was going to need about six stitches.

The men laughed. “Dr. Ann takes care of us when we get boo-boos,” Saint said.

“Great. That's just nice.” She felt very sour about this. No telling what had hit Trace—he probably wasn't going to share many details—and what if he needed a tetanus shot? A small-town doctor in Hell—

Why do I care? Why am I so worried?

Because I've fallen for him. A little
.

Okay, hard
.

She drove where they directed, and Ava was comforted by the professional look of the small white building they pulled up to. A petite, gray-haired woman opened the door, waving them inside.

“Hello. I'm Dr. Ann,” she said, “and you must be the Hell Belles. I've heard a lot about you from Judy. Now, let me see what fun you've gotten into, Trace.”

Ava liked the woman's professionalism, and her clean, spare clinic. She relaxed a little as Dr. Ann washed up, pointing Trace to a table.