Snow in Texas (Lean Dogs Legacy #1) (5 page)

Nine

Colin

He was bored. The first hour, as Gabe’s was just opening up and the staff was in the morning scurry to take the chairs down and set out fresh rolled sets of silverware, he’d been delighted to watch Jenny hurry back and forth, heels of her boots clicking sharply across the boards. Her boots were white today, with large red roses on the uppers and toes.

              How many pairs of boots did she have, he wondered. And what did they cost?

              He asked Fox about the price and he shrugged. “You can get a pair at Walmart. But what Jen’s got? Between two and five-hundred.”

              “For just one pair of boots.” He whistled, decided her a brat, and slouched down in his chair.

              The breakfast crowd had been entertaining up to a point. But now it was almost lunch and the boredom was setting in.

              Finally deciding he had to ask even if he’d be denied an answer, Colin said, “So why are we here?”

              Fox shrugged and sipped his sweet tea. “Because Candy asked us to be here.”

              “Okay, maybe you were asked, but I was ordered. And it’d be cool to know what or who I’m supposed to be looking out for.”

              The look Fox sent him was faintly patronizing.

              “What? I’m just saying.”

              Fox shook his head and turned away. “Watch Jenny. If someone tries to jump her, I’d say it’s a safe bet you ought to respond.”

              “You’re just helpful as shit, aren’t you?”

              “Careful, prospect.”

             
Fuck me
.

              The door opened again, then again, light beaming across the floor in strobe fashion as one after the next after the next lunchtime regular began to filter in. A sudden strong smell of sautéed onions announced the official changing of the menu.

              Boot heels clipped toward them and Jenny arrived with a pitcher of tea to refill them, and heaping hot plates of potatoes with gravy, chicken fried steak, and wilted greens.

              “Here boys, before it gets too late,” she explained, setting down their food and topping off their drinks.

              “Thanks, love,” Fox said.

              Colin said, “I’ve been wondering something.”

              She lifted her brows.

              “How much do those boots cost?”

              She made an exasperated sound and turned away.

              “Hey, I’m just curious. I wanna know how expensive you are.” He laughed when she tossed her hair in a clearly dismissive gesture.

              “Idiot,” Fox said.

              The restaurant filled up with bodies and voices, and they attacked their lunches silently. Fox only ate half his potatoes, slid the plate over, and Colin scooped them onto his own plate.

              As he shoveled in food, he glanced regularly up at Jenny, working the counter with her bright smile pinned in place. She seemed easy and relaxed with the customers, not tense the way she was with him. Still, he detected a scrap of something raw beneath her surface, an odd light in her eyes that shouldn’t have been there.

              He guessed needing a security detail would do that to a person.

              Between one bite of steak and the next, something changed. Colin stiffened, fork hovering in the air, as he registered the scene across the room.

              Jenny had her hands on the cash register, fingers curled tight, white as bone at the knuckles. Her body was frozen; he couldn’t even see her breathing, her chest unmoving. Face caught between fight and flight, blue eyes huge.

              Fear. Cold and intense.

              Across the counter, a man in a blue suit smiled at her in a way that turned Colin’s lunch to lead in his gut.

              “Who’s that?” he asked, swallowing down steak that tried to stick in his throat. He set his fork down, made a reflexive reach for his waistband and the borrowed gun hidden beneath his cut.

              “Ah, shit.” In a sequence of fluid moves, Fox was on his feet and headed for the counter.

              Colin was sitting on the far side of the table, but beat the Englishman to it, arriving at the front counter first, planting a hand down and putting himself in the suit wearer’s face.

              “Hey,” he said, voice heavy with his native accent.

              “Oh God,” Jenny whispered, and his eyes flicked to her, saw the naked terror on her face and wanted to strangle someone.

              Then back to the guy in the suit, his square, unattractive face and sloppy haircut.

              The man reared back before cool professionalism slid into place. He had cop written all over him, but not in the way of the troopers back home. Colin had had plenty of run-ins with New Orleans’ finest in his youth, but they’d been solid blue-collar hardworking types, doing their jobs, giving a swamp rat kid a break when they could. This man possessed none of their good ol’ boy charm. This one stank of fed.

              Even so, Colin got the best of him, surprised him, for that half a second before he pulled himself together. “Excuse me, I’m ordering,” he said. “You’ll have to go to the back of the line.” He turned back to Jenny, dismissing Colin.

              “Right. Yeah. Jen, who is this?”

              “Uh…” She took a deep breath, cleared her throat, and straightened her shoulders, visibly forcing the panic from her features. “This is Agent Riley. ATF.”

              ATF. Oh shit.

              He grinned and layered on more Cajun charm. “Pleased to meet you, agent. You know, I’m kinda glad I ran into you. There’s something I always wanted to ask a federal agent.”

              Fox arrived behind him and stepped on the heel of his boot in clear warning.

              Riley let his eyes move down to the prospect patch stitched to the breast of Colin’s cut and then back up, lip curled. “Funny. There’s nothing I ever wanted to ask a white trash biker piece of shit.”

              The restaurant went silent. Riley’s voice had carried, and suddenly, no one in Gabe’s was speaking, maybe not even breathing, silence broken only by the muted clatter of the kitchen.

              Grin still firmly in place, Colin said, “Jenny, is he the reason I’m here today?”

              She didn’t answer right away.

              “Jen?”
              “No,” she said on a deep exhale. “He’s not.”

              Maybe not, but he’d rattled her regardless.

              Colin took an exaggerated step to the side, so he was out of the way, but still at the counter. “Alright then. You take his order, baby, and I’ll just stand right here and make sure he keeps his hands to himself.”

              “Shut up,” Fox hissed behind him. “I’m not bailing you out later, stupid yank.”

              Colin braced his hands on the edge of the counter, still smiling like an idiot, and didn’t budge. Let Fox try and drag him away; he dared the asshole.

              Jenny took another deep breath, cracked her knuckles, and poised her fingers above the register. Her voice was dim. “What can I get for you?”

              Slowly, the chatter resumed, starting up slow like frightened crickets after a storm, then swelling back to a normal volume. Amidst the noise, Colin couldn’t hear what Riley said, but he saw him lean forward, just before he took his food, and whisper something to Jenny.

~*~

Agent Riley didn’t stick around, but Jenny couldn’t seem to shake his visit off. Fifteen minutes after he was gone, Colin watched her untie her apron, trade places at the register with another girl, and head out the back staff door. She was taking her break, and she probably wanted to be alone.

              Too bad.

              He gave her a twenty second head start, then followed, ducking down the rear hallway and through the exit into a dirt-paved back lot where the staff cars and dumpsters threw heat mirages into the clear afternoon sunlight. There was a rickety wood bench with peeling paint, and that was where Jenny sat, pitched forward at the waist, working her fingers together in nervous twitches.

              Colin decided not to spook her. “Mind if I join you?” he asked, waiting beside the bench for acknowledgement.

              She tossed him a fast glance, expression still shattered from before, and sighed. “Why not.”

              He thought the wood slats might give beneath his weight, and perched carefully, mimicking her posture.

              She stared out across the lot, gaze distant, lower lip trembling each time she inhaled.

              Colin fished his smokes and lighter from inside his cut and offered them. “This always helps me when I’m shook up.”

              She didn’t hesitate, pulling one out and lighting it up. “Thanks,” she said as she exhaled. “Shit, I haven’t smoked in a long time.”

              “I knocked you off the wagon,” he lamented.

              “No, I can handle just the one.” And she set about savoring it, slow drags, holding the smoke for long moments before releasing it.

              “I take it you’ve got some history with that guy.”

              She shook her head. “Not directly, no. He’s a friend of a friend I wish I’d never had.”

              “Ah.” He didn’t get it, not yet, but a vague picture was forming in his mind, one that left a sour taste in his mouth. “You were on the run from the feds and the club took you in.”

              “No.” She looked scandalized.

              “You’re an undercover fed, working the club.”

              “Um…” Even more scandalized.

              “Ex-boyfriend?”

              She finished the cig and dropped it to the dirt, grinding it out with her white-and-rose boot heel. “Okay, look. Obviously, none of the boys are gonna tell you, and you’re too dumb – no offense – to figure it out yourself.” She turned to look at him head-on. “The club is my family. Literally. Candy’s my brother.”

              For some reason, he’d never anticipated that. Like Fox said: he was stupid.

              Jenny gave him a small grin. “You had no idea?”

              He finally got his tongue unstuck from the roof of his mouth. “No…”

              Her grin widened, flashed straight white teeth. She was pretty all the time, but she was beautiful when she smiled, he realized. The sudden brightness in her went to his gut…places farther south…and snapped his brain back online.

              “So…you’re Candyman’s sister.”

              “That’s what I just said.” Her tone was, miracle of miracles, teasing.

              “And he’s your brother.”

              “I’m pretty sure that’s how it works, yeah.”

              For some reason he wanted to smile back at her. It was a relief, this new knowledge, and he didn’t understand it, but he was going to enjoy it. “Shit. Really? And you live in the clubhouse?”

              “Last time I checked.”

              The picture he’d been building snapped into sudden, excruciating focus. Candy looking after his little sister, keeping her safe beneath his roof, wanting her to have a two-man security detail…that included
him
. Not to be immodest, but he was a big guy, which suggested a big problem.

              He was furious suddenly.

              “Our dad was in the club,” she was saying, and he tried to clear his mind, listen to her. Her face was wistful. “He raised Candy up knowing he’d patch in one day. It’s sort of a family legacy, I guess.”

              It wasn’t working; he couldn’t keep from scowling.

              She glanced at him and started a little. “What?”

              “Okay, for real this time, who was that guy and what does he want with you?”

              “Riley?” She waved as if it was nothing, though the fear still glittered in her eyes. “You know how the ATF is, always wanting to bring down a whole chapter of Dogs.”

              “No, Jen, I’m serious. What kind of danger are you in?”

              For once, she contemplated telling him, gnawing at her lower lip, eyes searching across his face. “I don’t think I’m ready to share that story with you yet.”

              He sighed, but nodded. “Fair enough. Is Riley involved?”

              “Essentially.”

              He nodded again. “Well…” He was frustrated, wanting to do something but having no idea what. “I don’t like him knowing where you work. That ain’t cool.”

              She smiled.

              It was his turn to ask, “What?”

              “Earlier, inside,” she said. “Do you know who you reminded me of?”