Rules of Protection (Tangled in Texas) (Volume 1) (15 page)

“Don’t ask,” Jake grumbled.

…

At dinner, Floss announced she’d invited some of the neighbors for a barbecue the next afternoon. The idea of being around new people excited me, like a prisoner allowed her first visitors. Or maybe it was more like I was given privileges after serving time with good behavior. Okay, that was pushing it.

It was supposed to be potluck, but Floss still had a list of foods she wanted to prepare. Ox and Judd volunteered to set up tables and chairs downstairs, Cowboy offered to clean the pool, Jake would mow using the tractor, and Hank would fire up the large barrel smoker he had proudly welded himself.

“Well, what about me? What can I do to help?”

Floss smiled. “You can pitch in anywhere you see fit.”

It was barely a step above “stand around and look pretty,” but I accepted it. No one thought I could do anything right. I may not be a country girl, but at least I tried to help. Floss wasn’t trying to hurt my feelings, but I still wanted an E for effort.

I swallowed another bite of my dinner and smiled. “I’ve never been one for stew, but this chicken is great, Floss.” All three of them looked up from their bowls and stared. “What? Do I have food on my face or something?”

“Never seen a chicken with four legs before,” Hank said.

A surge of panic shot through me. “What the hell am I eating, then?”

They chuckled as Jake wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Rabbit stew. It’s good, right? Want some more?”

I pushed my bowl away. “I’m full, thank you.” My legs shook as I weakly stumbled toward the front door.

Jake yelled out after me. “Mind over matter, Emily! If you don’t mind, it don’t matter.” And the three of them laughed some more.

Nauseated, I could’ve easily crawled into bed and gone to sleep, but I had to check something first. I was tired, but there was no way I’d be able to go to sleep without knowing. I grabbed a flashlight and headed for the backside of the barn.

Halfway there, I heard the front door open on the main house. Jake was probably heading to the cottage. He’d be surprised when he realized I wasn’t there and hadn’t told him where I went. Good. I smiled, thinking how it served him right. Let him worry for five minutes. It won’t kill him.

Approaching the cage, Jack hopped around gleefully at the sight of me, hoping for a carrot. Twitcher stayed in the back corner, sizing me up and growling like a guard dog. I was relieved Jack was okay, though Twitcher stew wouldn’t have bothered me much.

Jake’s voice came from behind me. “I knew you’d be out here.”

I shone my flashlight on his face on purpose as he shielded his eyes with his hand. “Congratulations, Scooby. I guess you solved the mystery.”

“You’re mad?”

I sighed. “I’m too tired to be mad. And it was good stew, before I realized we were eating bunnies.”

Back at the cottage, we stepped over the lifeless dog on the porch and went inside. I collapsed onto the edge of the bed and pulled off my shoes. Jake stood at the door, watching. As soon as my shoes hit the floor, he moved forward and leaned over me, as if his body were willing mine to lie back on the bed.

Jake’s eyes were expressive, his face intense. “We have unfinished business,” he said, crawling onto the bed and overwhelming me with his presence. I moved farther back, but he followed. “So how tired are you?” he asked in a hushed voice, his face close to mine.

My brain turned to mush. “W-who said I was tired?”

The corners of his mouth lifted slightly. He leaned into my hair and nibbled my ear. “You did,” he said, breathing on my neck.

Chills ran over my skin. “Well, I was wrong.”

Jake stopped kissing my neck. “So far, that’s the sexiest thing I’ve heard you say.”

Jake placed his mouth over mine. His warm hands worked their way under the edge of my T-shirt. He trailed them to my breasts, molding and cupping them in his palms. I was practically purring by the time he pulled away and told me to lift my arms, snatching the shirt from my body. He held my wrists above my head.

I leaned up slightly and kissed his neck, trailing my tongue softly along his throat and kissing down his jawbone.

He grunted at first and squeezed my wrists tighter, but then got quieter. “Uh…Emily…”

I groaned. “If you stop this now, I’m never going to forgive you.” He closed his eyes, and I got the hint. “Jake, you’ve got to be kidding me. Let me guess. You don’t have a condom.”

“No, that’s not the problem.”

God only knew what was going through his mind. “Then what?”

“You aren’t going to freak out, are you?”

“Why would I freak out?”

“Because you have a tick embedded into your armpit.”

“What?” I jumped up, screaming. “Get it off me! Oh God, get it off!”

Jake chased me around the room until I stopped moving. Then I did the gross-out dance, where your feet run in place and you shake your hands constantly. As if it does any good.

He ran into the bathroom and got some tweezers. “Hold still, Emily. The head is still inside you. I have to pull it out carefully.”

Once he removed it, he threw it in the toilet and flushed it, while I gagged.

“Thought you said you didn’t have a gag reflex?” Jake said, laughing.

“I lied,” I said, dry heaving again. “That’s sooo disgusting!”

Someone knocked on the cottage door. “Hey, Jake?”

Jake went to the door while I pulled out some alcohol and sterilized my armpit. But I overheard the conversation at the front door. “Yeah, Hank,” Jake said, opening the door.

“Is everything okay? I was lugging some trash down to the burn pit and heard Emily screaming.”

“She’s fine. She had a—”

“That’s okay, son. I don’t want to know what the two of you were doing. Some things are better left unsaid.”

Jake chuckled as he shut the door. He stepped back into the room where I lay curled on the bed in my robe, holding my stomach. “You okay?”

“No. I don’t feel good. I feel…contaminated.”

Jake smiled. “Didn’t you check yourself for ticks when you took a shower after hunting this morning?”

“I didn’t know I was supposed to.”

Jake rubbed at his face and sat on the bed. “Come here and put your head in my lap. I want to check your scalp to be sure you don’t have any more on you.”

“Oh God. You think there’re more?” My stomach churned as I crawled across the bed and placed my head on his leg, resisting the urge to puke. “Why couldn’t I just have carpet burns or something? I’m going to need therapy after this.”

Jake poked through my hair, lifting and moving a section at a time. “Stop whining and being melodramatic. You won’t need therapy.”

“Oh, you don’t think so? I had a waxing once that left me needing post-traumatic stress counseling afterward.”

Jake laughed and ran his fingers through my hair again, showing off his fine motor skills and making my scalp tingle. His touch was heaven. Soft. Soothing. Sleep inducing.

I slipped out of consciousness and could do nothing to stop it.

Chapter Twelve

I wanted to kick myself.

Why did I have to fall asleep? Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. God, I’m an idiot. Apparently, Jake was too, since he didn’t bother waking me. He must’ve snuggled around me and went off to dreamland himself.

He lay next to me, breathing deeply, all warm and hard. Yep, definitely hard. As easy as it would be to turn in his arms and wake him, I knew Hank would interrupt us soon. That alone made the option unappealing.

With the barbecue this afternoon, it would be a busy morning, though technically, I didn’t have anything to do. No one trusted me to handle anything on my own. I guess I’d follow the boys around and try to help with what I could. It embarrassed me that nobody had any faith in me and spoke volumes as to what kind of character they thought I had.

I wanted to show some usefulness but couldn’t think of anything to do offhand. Then the idiot rooster started crowing, which gave me an idea. What the hell, it was worth a shot.

Jake didn’t feel me leave the bed. I threw on some clothes and quietly scuttled out the door. The sun had barely risen, but I figured Floss was already awake and brewing the coffee. Hank would be up, too, but he was probably still in the bathroom—his early morning ritual.

Close to the barn, something round and dark blocked my path. At first glance, it resembled a pile of horse manure. As I got closer, I realized it was alive and moving. A splotchy black snake with reddish-brown swirls coiled itself into a tight ball, daring me to come closer. I couldn’t tell how long it was, but it had the impressive thickness of a banana. I stayed back, sniffing the air, but didn’t smell watermelon like Jake had said. Maybe I wasn’t close enough, but I wasn’t about to get any closer. Either this snake was unscented, or it was of the scratch-and-sniff variety.

My instincts told me to ask for help, but I didn’t want any of them to think I couldn’t handle the situation on my own. Sure, I
could
. I just didn’t necessarily want to. But running to Jake would be the spider-in-the-bathroom incident all over again. He would roll his eyes at me and consider me pathetic.

Nope. I refused to get his help this time. I wanted to prove to him—and myself—I was capable of handling this.

Keeping my eye on the snake, I maneuvered around it at a safe distance and grabbed a shovel from the barn. I distinctly remembered hearing Judd say if you cut off a snake’s head it would die. Carefully, I kept my feet and butt pushed back, leaned over, and with a hard jab, I chopped off the snake’s head.

Then I ran.

Holy shit! It didn’t work at all. The fucking snake was still moving. My God, how is it still alive without its head attached? Snakes must be similar to cockroaches, which can live for days without their heads. Damn you, Judd! The dipshit didn’t mention that part.

I searched for another weapon until I spotted a large jug of diesel near the burn pit. Hank used it to burn the trash daily. I remembered where he put the matches, as well, so I grabbed both and ran back to the snake. It continued to toss and turn on the ground, slithering and wrapping around itself.

Staying as far back as I could, I poured diesel on the snake and threw a lit match. The fire caught instantly, but the snake continued to wiggle and squirm. Jesus Christ. What the hell did it take to kill one of these bastards?

Enough was enough. I ran back to the cottage, silently ducked inside, then found myself standing back over the snake with a .22 caliber pistol.

Pow. Pow. Pow.

Even at close range, I hit it only once. The snake rolled, curled onto itself, and finally went completely still. Jake ran out of the cottage, barefoot and shirtless, with a gun in his hand, while Hank and Floss stood on the back porch, grinning.

“What the hell are you doing?” Jake said, panting and staring at the snake’s burning corpse. “You scared the shit out of me! I thought some nutcase was out here shooting.” He waved his hands in the air angrily. “When I woke up and you weren’t in bed, I thought Felts had found you. But I guess my original assumption was correct. A nutcase
was
out here shooting.”

“Jake, I was…”

Hank and Floss had made it down the back steps and came over to us. “She killed the shit out of that snake,” Hank said, laughing. “Chopped off its head, set it on fire, then shot it.”

Jake looked at me as if I were crazy. “A little overkill, don’t you think?”

“It wouldn’t stop moving.”

Hank chuckled again. “They do that, honey. It’s their nerves twitching in their bodies. They’ll stop after a while.”

“What the hell were you doing out here this early, anyway?” Jake asked, his tone still slightly on the rough side.

“I wanted to help Floss by getting the eggs for her this morning. I figured it was the least I could do since nobody thinks I can do anything else. I’m useless and in the way all the time. I went to gather eggs, but ended up stumbling across this snake instead.”

“Damn it, Emily, you can’t—”

“Now, you watch your tone with her, Jacob Ward.” Floss stepped over toward me and glared at him. “Her intentions were good, and that’s all that matters.”

“But she can’t go around shooting—”

Floss raised her hand to shut Jake up. “I’ve said my piece, and I don’t want to hear nothing more about it. Emily, dear, as soon as you can get me those eggs, I’ll start breakfast.”

I smiled, grateful she’d give me a chance to prove myself. “Coming right up!” I set out for the barn, but Jake grabbed me by the arm to stop me. “What now?”

He held out his hand. “The gun. Unless you plan on using it to get to those eggs?”

I slapped the pistol into his hand, went to the barn to grab a small bucket, and marched straight for the chicken coop. From the moment I stepped inside, I was on high alert. The rooster huddled with the hens at the back of the pen as I made my way toward the nesting boxes. Like before, the hens scattered and the rooster strutted closer, nonchalantly pecking the ground, puffing out his feathers. From previous experience, I knew this behavior was similar to a dog’s warning growl before the actual bite.

But I didn’t wait for him to charge. Instead, I reached out, grabbed him by the neck, and slung him away. He jumped to his feet and came back for more. I raised the bucket in warning and yelled, “Rooster, I’ll fuck you up!”

He spread his wings wide, flapped them lightly, and then folded them back to his body. Feathers around his neck ruffled as he shook his head and began to groom himself. I kept an eye on him, but he didn’t give me any more problems as I filled the bucket with eggs.

When I came out of the chicken coop, I realized I had company. Floss gaped at me in shock, Hank snickered, and Jake shook his head in disbelief. “What?” I asked.

Hank patted my arm, grinning. “Honey, you may have the face of an angel, but that halo of yours is awfully crooked.”

…

After breakfast, Jake and I followed Hank downstairs to get ready for the barbecue while Floss went to the grocery store. Cowboy, Ox, and Judd showed up soon after.

“Hey, beautiful,” Cowboy said, as he took a turn behind Judd and Ox, hugging me and kissing me on the cheek. “Are you helping out?”

“If someone gives me something to do.”

“I’ve got to clean the pool. Think you can handle getting wet?” Cowboy shrugged his eyebrows suggestively, and although his open flirtatiousness didn’t surprise me, the look on Jake’s face did. He was irritated.

“I don’t have a swimsuit.”

Cowboy’s face broke into a smile. “I don’t mind if you—”

“She’s helping me today,” Jake cut in. “You’re on your own with the pool.”

“But aren’t you mowing with the tractor?” I asked. “How am I supposed to help you with that?” Cowboy, Ox, and Judd waited for Jake’s answer as well.

“You’re going to learn to drive it.”

“What? You wouldn’t even let me drive the Explorer,” I said, suspiciously. “So what changed?”

Jake smiled lightly. “You said you wanted to do more around here, right? After the initiative you showed this morning, I figured…”

“What’d you do this morning?” Cowboy asked me.

“I choked a chicken.”

The boys all laughed, and then Cowboy looked at Jake and said, “You dog!” They threw some fake punches at each other and playfully wrestled into the middle of the yard.

Judd and Ox grinned, but I was flat-out confused. “What’d I say?”

“Choking a chicken is an old slang term. You just told us you performed sexual favors on Jake this morning.”

“I wouldn’t mind having a girl with that kind of initiative,” Judd added.

I couldn’t help but laugh at my mistake. “That’s not what I meant. Maybe I should’ve said I bullied a cock into surrendering.”

“I’m afraid it doesn’t sound much better,” Ox said.

“Jacked up a rooster?”

Ox smirked. “The mental image is already there. Sorry, no dice.”

I laughed. “I set a snake on fire.”

“Damn, girl! What
did
you two do in bed this morning?”

“Let’s just say I got up really early,” I replied.

Jake broke apart from Cowboy and headed for the tractor next to the barn. He motioned for me to follow. Jake said the tractor was a 1953 Ford Jubilee, which I guess was supposed to mean something if you knew anything about tractors. Obviously, I didn’t. All I saw before me was an old grayish-white tractor with a red belly, big back tires, and a lot of rust.

I watched as Jake climbed into the seat. “Where am I supposed to sit?”

He leaned on the steering wheel, with his mirrored aviator sunglasses pulled down over his eyes. He looked hot, but it had nothing to do with the sun or the heat. “God made laps for a reason.” Jake said, grinning.

He offered me his hand, and I climbed into his lap as Hank came out of the barn. “Jake, when you’re done mowing, I want you to caulk something for me.”

I placed my lips against Jake’s ear. “Should I tell him to get in line?”

Jake gave me a stern look. “
C-A-U-L-K
. Get your mind out of the gutter,” Jake said. Then he cranked the tractor.

Yeah, like sitting in Jake’s vibrating lap would make me think pure thoughts.

…

By lunchtime, Floss had returned and flagged us down to get our attention. She said Hank and the other boys had to run into town to pick up some parts for the pool pump. Floss handed us a basket of goodies she’d packed up and told us to find a shady place for a picnic. She gave me an exaggerated wink before walking away. Floss was my kind of woman.

Jake and I found a breezy spot under a large mesquite tree in the pasture where we could watch the horses graze. He spread a blanket in the patch of shade among the wildflowers and we sat, facing each other, while we ate. Floss had wrapped up some sandwiches, fruit, cookies, and a couple bottles of water.

“I’m surprised she didn’t cut our sandwiches into triangles and give us juice boxes,” Jake said.

“Oh, I think it’s sweet. It reminds me of when my mom made my lunches, except she’d put weird stuff in my lunchbox.”

“Such as?”

“Boiled eggs, dinner rolls, and probably the worst one ever, sardines.” Jake laughed, so I hit him. “It’s not funny. Didn’t your mom ever do anything strange?”

He thought for a moment. “Yeah, but I’ll have to show you.” He leaned off the blanket, plucked a couple of dandelions from the ground, and tucked one into my hair above my ear.

I grinned. “That
is
weird. Did she put pink bows in your hair, too?”

“No, smartass, not that.” Jake held the other dandelion and placed it under my chin. “My mom would hold one of these underneath and if the yellow shined on my chin, she’d say
‘you like butter.’
”

“What does it mean?”

“Beats the hell out of me,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “I never thought to ask. I guess I figured I had all the time in the world to. I had always pictured her doing the same thing to my children one day. But now that’ll never happen.” Guilt darkened his gray eyes. “I guess the least I could’ve done was ask her what it meant.”

His regrets pulled at my heartstrings. I knew how he felt. Though I’d had years to come to terms with my parents’ deaths, the clouded memories of the past still haunted me. But he reeled from a trauma that happened just last year.

“I’m sorry,” Jake said. “I didn’t mean to bring up the past.”

“It’s okay. I liked hearing about your mother.”

“Yeah, but it’s not fair. You’ve spent half your life without your parents. Knowing that, I feel bad talking to you about my own.”

“I don’t mind, Jake.”

A noise startled me and I turned my head to see Hank and the three boys unloading some parts from the truck. I guess we were too deep in conversation to hear them pull up, though I don’t know how, since they were all whooping and hollering. Then Ox smacked Cowboy on the ass.

“Why am I starting to feel like I’m in one of those cowboy butt-sex movies?”

“Come on,” Jake said with a grin. “Let’s wrap this up. I think the heat is frying your brain cells.”

…

Jake didn’t have time to bathe before a whole slew of neighbors showed up and cornered him into chatting with them. Since I didn’t know anyone, it was easy for me to slink back to the cottage and wash off the stink.

I dressed in a pair of green belted cargo shorts, a white knit top, and my stretch canvas sneakers. My melt-proof makeup consisted of cream blush, mascara, bronzer, and a touch of lip gloss. I finished my hair and had just turned off my flat iron when Jake stepped into the bedroom.

“Where’d you get that thing?” he asked.

“This
thing
is called a flat iron. Floss picked it up for me at a garage sale. She got a good deal on it—two dollars—and it works great.”

He picked up a section of my hair and examined it. “I don’t get it. Why do girls straighten their hair when it’s already straight?”

God, men know nothing. “Do you really want me to explain?”

“Nope,” he said, dropping the section of hair. “It was more of a rhetorical question.” Jake motioned to the door. “Ready to face the firing squad? Everyone wants to see you.”

“See me?”