Texas Kissing (26 page)

I was dumping huge amounts of cold milk into Bull’s Americano when it happened.

“Miss?” A voice that didn’t belong in Texas. A voice as out of place as my own. I spun around to look.

Big. As tall as Bull, although not quite as massively built. He was clean-cut where Bull had stubble, his hair neat where Bull’s was tousled. Even his face was refined, with high cheekbones to offset the strong jaw. He could have been sculpted by some Renaissance artist, cast in marble for ladies to drool over. The sort of smart, good-looking guy who could have been a banker or a stockbroker.

But his suit and his shoes didn’t say
banker
or
stockbroker.
They said three letters that I’d been half expecting to hear for the last two years. Letters he was going to say any second, right after his name.

“Samuel Calahan,” he said with a smile. Then he opened his mouth again.

Time seemed to slow down. I felt my body locking up. It didn’t matter that I’d been preparing myself for years for exactly this situation. I knew I had to run, but I couldn’t fucking move.

“F—” said Calahan.

I looked behind him, towards the coffee shop door. He’d catch me before I got anywhere near it.

“...B…” said Calahan.

I picked up Bull’s coffee..

“...I,” finished Calahan.

I swung my arm, squeezing the cup as I did so to pop the plastic top off. Twenty ounces of hot coffee hit Calahan square in the chest and he staggered back, cursing and flailing at himself. I bolted past him and crashed through the door. I was panicking too much to think clearly.
He’s going to take me back to New York! He’s going to make me testify and—

Outside, the blinding sunlight restarted my brain. All my planning kicked in and I knew exactly what I had to do. I ran across the parking lot.

In my car was my Go Bag. A simple little backpack stuffed with clothes, money and enough fake IDs to get me into almost any country I wanted, plus a Taser, water, energy bars and an encrypted USB flash drive with a backup of all my work. That was Plan B - get in my car and drive.

There might still be time for Plan A, though. Plan A was to drive back to the bus and pick it up. Most people make the mistake of thinking that because the bus has been parked in the same spot for two years, it can’t move. But I keep it fully fueled and even give it a little test run every few months. Everything I cared about could come with me.

And that was when I realized my plans were out of date. I froze, standing beside my car, for fatal seconds.

None of my plans had ever accounted for a hulking cowboy I was crazy about.
Shit!
What was I going to do? I couldn’t ask Bull to come with me to Mexico (my first choice) or Canada (my second). He had a whole life here. He had family and—

A hand landed on my shoulder and whipped me around, keeping a tight hold of me.

Calahan’s shirt was still steaming and the soaked, brown fabric was sticking wetly to his skin, showing off a muscled chest.

“That,” he said tightly, “was
not polite.”

I tried to wriggle out of his hand, but he had a grip like a vice.

“I just want to talk, Tessa,” he said. “Just talk.”

Just hearing that name again brought it all crashing back. I hated him for that. I glared at him and tried to yank my shoulder out of his hand again.

“Do you want me to put cuffs on you?” he asked. “I’ve got some.” He patted a pocket. “They may be a little damp, but they’ll work.”

I glanced around. A few passers-by had noticed us, but so far they were studiously pretending they hadn’t. Just a woman arguing with her boyfriend. That would all change as soon as the cuffs went on. Everyone in town would know my secret in about thirty seconds.

If I talked to him, it gave me options. I stopped trying to wrestle out of his grip. “Talk,” I snapped.

He cautiously took his hand off my shoulder, ready to clap it back on again if I tried to run. When I stayed where I was, he reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. It was limp and soggy with coffee, but I recognized the image as soon as I saw it: Bull and I in period dress, at the fair. A screenshot from a newspaper’s website. “What the ever-loving
fuck?”
I whispered.

“I’m kind of surprised,” said Calahan mildly. “You’ve stayed off our radar so completely. Not a Facebook photo, not an Instagram...and then
this
pops up. What were you thinking?”

I slumped against my car in defeat. I’d been so careful. All my paranoia
hadn’t
been paranoia. It had been working...until I’d fallen for Bull and gotten soft.

“Two years!” Calahan said. “When the facial recognition software flagged the photo, they had to blow the dust off the file to figure out who to call. And that would be me. I’ve been working your uncle’s case for five years, now—long before you ran away. I watched you growing up.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Well,
that’s
not creepy at all,” I muttered.

He gave me a look. “We were worried about you. For a while, we thought your uncle had murdered you. But he was pissed off as hell when you disappeared, so that didn’t make any sense.” His voice softened a little. “I’m glad to see you’re okay.”

I looked at my feet. I’d been lectured by my uncle about the evil, manipulative FBI for years. Then I’d lived in fear of them showing up and dragging me back to New York. I hadn’t figured on one of them being...
human.
It occurred to me that it was lucky Bull took so much milk in his coffee, or I would have really scalded the guy. I shrugged, embarrassed. Then I nodded at his shirt and mumbled, “Sorry.”

He shook his head. “I’m fine,” he said breezily. “Didn’t even feel it.”
Jesus,
he was as much of a determined hard-ass as Bull.

Calahan took a deep breath. “There’s going to be a trial.”

Immediately, I turned to run.

“
Wait!
Relax. I can’t
make
you testify.”

I turned back to him suspiciously.

“I’m not even here officially. Technically, I’m on vacation. My boss thought the chances of tracking you down were so slim, he wouldn’t authorize it. But I wanted to give it a shot.”

I folded my arms crossly. Why did he have to be so
nice?
“Why?” I asked.

“I want to take down your uncle. I know what he did to a lot of people. Including Annette.”

Now I did meet his eyes. I looked up and glared at him, enraged that he’d use such a low blow. But almost immediately, my eyes were filling with tears. It was the first time I’d heard anyone say her name in two years. Her memory had only been kept alive in my own head.

And the most annoying part was, when I checked his expression, he wasn’t just using her murder to persuade me. He actually gave a shit.

But that didn’t change anything. I couldn’t face my uncle in a courtroom, not on my own. And I would be on my own—going into witness protection with the FBI would mean I’d never see Bull again. “No,” I said. “I can’t testify.”

“If I found you, they can too. They’ll be looking for you, Tessa. You’re a crucial witness. Your testimony could swing the whole case.”

He was right. I’d watched him murder someone, right in front of me, not to mention all the other beatings and bribes and contract killings I’d heard him order over the years. I sniffed, blinking back tears. “Without me, will he go to prison?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe not for as long. What I
do
know is, if
they
get you and force you to testify in his defense, he’ll walk.”

I knew he was right. My uncle had men like Antonio, men who were good at making people do things. If I was back in that house in New York, I didn’t kid myself that I’d be able to resist them. “They don’t have facial recognition software,” I said, pointing at the newspaper picture. “They’re not going to see it.”

“Something else, then.”

“I’m careful.” I turned to my car.

Calahan put his hand on the door to stop me. “We’re not done.”

“Yeah,” said Bull’s voice from behind him. “You are.”

Bull

I figured he must be one of Lily’s clients. Another criminal getting pushy with her. From the few words I’d caught as I approached, he sounded American—a city boy. Drug dealer, maybe. I didn’t much care what he was; what mattered was that he was hassling my girl.

“Now hold on,” the guy said, straightening up. “I was just—”

“Leaving,” I told him. “Leaving is what you were doing.”

I stepped an inch closer to the guy. “The girl in the coffee shop said Lily threw coffee over some guy.” I looked at his shirt. “That’d be you.”

“Luckily,” said the guy, straightening his tie, “I’m fine.”

“What makes you think I gave a rat’s ass about you?” I growled. “That was
my
coffee she threw at you. You owe me three bucks.”

The guy squared up to me. “You want to try and take it?”

“You sure you want to get that fancy suit dirty?” I looked again at the coffee stain. “
Dirtier?”

“You think you’re a hardass because you play cowboy?” asked the guy. “Yeah, I know who you are, ‘
Bull.’
Let’s go for it, I’ll show you how we do things downtown.”

I lifted my chin a half inch. “You know why they call me Bull?” I asked. “‘Cause when I get mad, there ain’t no stopping me.”

“
Enough!”
Lily’s voice made us both turn around. “Bull, let’s go.” She looked at the guy in the suit. “And you—you have my answer.” Then she grabbed my hand and pulled.

I resisted for a second, just long enough to glare at city boy, and then let myself be led away. I slipped my arm around Lily’s waist and pulled her hard against me, crushing her softness against me as we walked.

“I’ll be in town a couple of days,” the guy called after us. “I’m staying at the Stallion Inn. In case you change your mind.”

Neither of us turned around, but I saw Lily bite her lip at his words. I could feel the hair on the back of my neck standing up, my whole body going tense with rage.
No one
upsets my Lily.

But if she wanted me to leave it, I’d leave it. For now.

We climbed into my pick up and I pulled out of the parking lot, heading towards the ranch. But as soon as we were out of town, I pulled off the road and turned to Lily.

“It’s time for some goddamn answers,” I said. “Start talking.”

Lily

“About what?” I knew it wouldn’t work to throw him off; I was just trying to buy time to come up with a convincing story.

I didn’t expect
how badly
it would work, though. With a sort of snarl, he rose as far out of his seat as the cab roof would allow, swung around to face me and put his open hand against my breastbone, pinning me back in my seat. “Goddamn it, Lily!” he roared. “Quit it!”