Red-Hot Texas Nights (3 page)

But she'd never seen it firsthand. Never shown up at his house on a Saturday night to score a joint or beg a jar of shine, even though the world might think otherwise.

She'd spent her weekends at home with her sisters. Doing homework. Watching TV. Baking.

Always baking.

And if she wanted to keep baking, she needed to do this. Now.

She drew a deep breath and mounted the steps.

The porch light gleamed, pushing back the dusky shadows just enough to illuminate the rickety hinges and frayed screen door. A beaten-up metal milk can sat nearby filled to the brim with pungent cigarette butts.

At least they looked like cigarette butts at first glance, but based on Kenny's line of work she wasn't placing any bets. An empty Frio Beer case sat nearby, next to several empty cans that had dropped and rolled here and there.

Her foot hit one of the cans. Aluminum jumped and clattered, and a wave of nerves went through her. She steeled herself, balled her fist, and drew her hand back to knock.

The minute her knuckles made contact with wood, the door swung inward and just like that, she found herself staring at a pair of incredible aqua-blue eyes edged in thick, dark lashes.

Eyes that had haunted her more than one night since Tyler McCall had taken her virginity and a dozen of her prizewinning rocky road brownies and rolled out of town without so much as a text good-bye.

 

CHAPTER 3

Tyler had always considered himself one tough mother.

Focused. Relentless. Game face firmly in place.

Nothing rattled him. Not now when he drew the worst of the worst thousand-pound monster for his next ride. Or way back when his most admired teacher had told him that he was just poor white trash who would never amount to anything.

Tyler didn't stumble when life tossed something unexpected his way. He held his ground and kept his cool. He sure as hell didn't stand there speechless, his heart pounding, the air lodged in his throat, and all because … damn, but it was her.

Her.

He stared into eyes as rich and fertile as freshly mowed grass and saw the flash of shock that mirrored his own. Her full mouth parted on a startled gasp and he noted the slight tremble of her bottom lip. “Tyler?” she managed after a few frantic seconds. “Tyler McCall?”

“Brandy.” He didn't need to say her last name. There was only one Brandy in Rebel. Only one Brandy that stood out in his memory and crept into his thoughts when he least suspected it. When he held on for dear life and busted out of the chute or the moment he slammed into the ground after a grueling ride.

He wasn't sure why he saw her face. If anything, she was the last woman he should have thought of, particularly since she never spared him a second thought. Hell, she'd barely noticed him at all back in high school. She'd been too good for the likes of him and she'd made certain that he knew it.

She'd ignored every smile. Every tip of his hat. Every lustful glance.

Until that night, that is.

She'd been more than responsive to him for those few hours, but then she'd morphed back into the same uppity-up. He'd known then that no matter how good the sex—then and now—it didn't make up for the fact that she was a Tucker and he was a Sawyer, and no way was she going to buck tradition and get mixed up with the likes of him.

Not in public.

But behind closed doors?

He was more than good enough for that.

A fact that stuck in his craw even though the last thing he'd ever wanted was a relationship outside the bedroom. He liked his freedom even more than he liked sex and so he'd always kept things easy and uncomplicated.

That hadn't kept the women from trying, however. He'd had more than one chase after him over the years.

But not Brandy.

Never Brandy.

That's why he saw her at the craziest moments. She stood out because she was the only one who managed to keep things in perspective whenever they were together, to give him a dose of his own medicine, to keep it strictly sex.

And while he sure as hell didn't want her falling head over heels, the fact that she never had sort of bothered him. Enough to implant her firmly in his brain.

Crazy, but there it was.

“Is it Cooper?” Duff's voice drew Tyler's attention and he became acutely aware of the strange tingle in his gut and the all-important fact that he had a hard-on for a woman who probably wouldn't piss on him if he were to catch fire right in front of her. Not in front of God and the good citizens of Rebel, that is.

In private? Well, that was a different matter altogether.

He stiffened, shifting his stance and letting the
it's all good
grin he'd become famous for slide firmly into place.

Because it
was
all good.

It didn't matter what Brandy Tucker thought of him. What anyone thought. All that mattered was that Tyler McCall was on his way to the top and nobody was going to pull him back down.

“I didn't know you were in town?” Her soft voice slid into his ears and sent a whisper along the length of his spine.

“It was a spur-of-the-moment thing.” He shrugged. “I just got back today.” He arched an eyebrow at her. “Don't tell me you're here to score a little smoke off Kenny Roy?”

Her shock eased into a distinctive frown, as if she'd just remembered why she'd never really liked him all that much in the first place. “Of course not. I don't smoke.”

He gave her a once-over that went from her head to toes and back up again. Nice and slow. The way he did with every woman. “You want to put twenty on the domino tournament over at the VFW Hall?”

Her expression hardened. “I don't gamble, either.”

“So what do you want with Kenny Roy?”

“That's my business, not yours.” She glanced past him. “So? Are you going to let me see him?”

“He's not here.”

Disappointment furrowed her brow and he had the insane urge to reach out and ease the worry lines with the pad of his finger. She seemed to think. “Any idea when he'll be back?”

He shrugged. “I wish to hell I knew.”

“Since when did you start hanging out with Kenny Roy?”

“Since I heard that he's been hanging with my brother.” He ran a hand through his hair. “What about you?”

“I've just got a few questions for him. Nothing big.” She glanced behind her toward her car as if trying to decide something. “I'll just come back later.”

“I don't think that's a good idea. You'd do best to steer clear of Kenny Roy.”

“Since when do you tell me what to do?” She planted her hands on her hips. “I don't need your permission. I'm a grown woman, in case you haven't noticed.”

Oh, he'd noticed, all right.

Even if he hadn't seen her in over two years.

She was all woman. Lush. Sultry. Beautiful when she was stretched out on a set of flower-print sheets, her skin covered in a slick sheen of sweat, her body open and waiting.

Two years, he reminded himself.

While they might have hooked up from time to time whenever he made it back to town, he hadn't been home since Cooper had gotten his driver's license and started to fend for himself. Plenty of time for things to have changed. A woman like Brandy wasn't meant to keep her sexuality bottled up. And while she'd always done her best to do just that, he couldn't imagine her not going back for more with somebody.

His gut tightened and he eyed her. “Does your boyfriend know you're out slumming without him?”

“Does your girlfriend know you're out harassing women without her?” She stared him down as bold as ever.

As sexy as ever.

The seconds ticked off until a grin finally got the best of him. She'd never had a problem standing up to him. No matter how much of a bastard he was being.

He shook his head. “I don't have a girlfriend.”

She nodded. “Well, I don't have a boyfriend.”

The words stirred a rush of relief and he felt his body relax considerably.

A crazy reaction for a man who prided himself on keeping things loose and easy with all women.

Even this one.

Especially
this one.

“I figured you might have settled down by now,” he murmured.

“You figured wrong. I'm still flying solo. Not even a dog. Unless you count the strays that Jenna keeps bringing home. She landed an internship with the Rebel veterinary clinic.”

“She always did like animals.”

“Um, yeah. So I guess I'd better get going. I'm giving Ellie a ride home.” She motioned behind her toward the old car parked in the gravel drive and the shadow of a woman sitting in the passenger seat. “She's my baking assistant. At my bakery.” She pushed a strand of blond hair behind one delicate ear as she turned back toward him. “I, um, have a bakery now. I opened up about six months ago.”

“I heard. Congratulations. You finally got what you always wanted.”

“I did.” She stared him square in the eye and he saw the shimmer in her pupils. “I got exactly what I wanted.”

Silence stretched between them for several long moments, as if she couldn't decide what to say next. The moment awkward. The way it always was when they weren't humping each other's brains out.

“Well, I guess I'll come back later,” she finally murmured.

“Again, I don't think that's such a good idea.”

Her gaze narrowed ever so slightly. “Again, I don't think it's any of your business.” She turned then and started back down the porch steps. “If you see Kenny Roy, tell him I'm looking for him.”

“Not gonna happen, sweetheart.” Her shapely butt swayed with each step. His gut tightened, and the words were out before he could think better of them. “But maybe I'll stop by the bakery before I leave. I've got a sudden hankering for a good brownie,” he added, not that he was remembering the decadent bite of chocolate she'd given him as a parting gift after their last encounter.

No, he was thinking about the sweet, mesmerizing taste of her. The way she'd squirmed against his mouth. And clawed at his shoulders. And begged for more.

For him.

“You'd better make it early then,” she tossed over her shoulder. “I'm usually sold out by noon.”

“I'll bet you are,” he murmured, his gaze hooked on the voluptuous side-to-side of her denim-clad ass. “I'll just bet.”

 

CHAPTER 4

“Who knew Kenny Roy had such cute friends?”

“If by
cute
you mean a sneaky man-whore who sails back into town without so much as a phone call, then um, yeah, I guess Tyler McCall fits the bill.”

The minute the words were out, Brandy wanted to snatch them back. So what if he hadn't called to tell her he was back in town? It wasn't like he ever called. He showed up. She showed up. And the fun began.

They were strictly sex buddies. No strings attached. No explanations needed.

Just two people enjoying the company of each other behind closed doors.

She just hadn't counted on the crazy emptiness she'd felt when he'd left this last time, and stayed gone so long that she'd almost stopped counting the months.

Almost.

“I meant cute”—Ellie's voice pushed into her thoughts—“as in
cute
. You know, nice hair, good body, handsome face.” Ellie slid her a sideways glance. “Vent much?”

“Sorry. I'm just a little disappointed. Kenny Roy's not here.”

“Sort of like the universe's way of saving you from yourself and sending a distinctly clear message that I'm right and you shouldn't be pushing for a face-to-face with a bunch of felons. Just drop off the mash when it's ready and let's be done with it.”

“I can't.” Brandy turned the key and the engine grumbled to life. “I have to follow the process.”

“Then tell me about this Tyler McCall.” Ellie turned her attention back to the front porch. “Has he always been so hunky?”

Unfortunately.

“So sexy?”

Yep.

“So downright scrumptious?

A frown tugged at her mouth. “Can we talk about something else?”

“I take that as a big, fat yes. So what's the story with you and this hunky cowboy? Was he your steady? Did he stand you up? Did you stand him up? Did you make like monkeys and do it fifty ways till Friday?”

“No, no, and no.”

“That's only three nos, which means you purposely ignored the last question, which means you screwed his brains out and then something happened.”

“Nothing happened. He left town, that's all.”

“And left you behind?”

“It wasn't like that. We were just friends. Occasional friends.”

“You mean fuck buddies.”

“Can we talk about something else?”

“I thought you'd never ask.” Her eyes gleamed. “Tell me about his friend.” She motioned to the guy who pushed through the front door and came up next to Tyler. “What do you know about him?”

Brandy peered through the darkness at the other man, who stood a few inches shorter than Tyler. He was slightly leaner than the muscular bull rider, but every bit as good looking with whiskey-blond hair that framed his face and reached just below his jaw.

Even so, her gaze kept going back to Tyler, to the intense way he stared after her, that sexy slant of a grin to his lips that still made her stomach flutter even though she hadn't seen him in two years.

Because
she hadn't seen him in two years.

“So?” Ellie's voice pushed into her thoughts. “Who's the sidekick?”

“I don't know.” She shoved the car into reverse and backed out of the driveway. “He's not from around here as far as I know.”

“Which isn't saying much since you spend your Saturday nights up to your elbows in flour. He could be burning up the dance floor every night at Diamonds and Dust and you would never know. You need to get out more.”