Flirting with Texas (Deep in the Heart of Texas) (7 page)

She set the glass of water down on the nightstand and got up and walked over to the window. She bent to tug it open, making him realize that she had a butt after all. Two smooth cheeks peeked out from beneath the hem of her boxers, forcing Beau to rearrange the sheet over his lap.

“You’re not a stranger.” She pulled up the window and turned around, her eyes direct and serious. “You’re a Texan.”

He didn’t know why his throat suddenly felt dry and clogged with emotion. Maybe because he’d lost the right to call himself a Texan. Now he was more of a drifter who avoided Texas like the plague. Or maybe what he avoided the most was his family. A family who reminded him of what he could never have.

Sitting up, he reached for the glass of water and downed it in three big gulps. It didn’t help. Now the raw emotion seemed to have settled in his stomach. It grew bigger as Jenna continued.

“You know what I miss the most?” she said as she walked over to the dresser. The top was cluttered with all kinds of crap, but her hand unerringly found the silver frame. From that distance, all he could tell was that it was a picture of a group of people. A family as big as his own. “I miss knowing the names of every person in town. I miss living within walking distance of the elementary school where I learned to read. And the church where I was baptized. I miss walking down the street and having folks ask about my mama.” She set the picture down as if she couldn’t stand to look at it anymore and returned to the window.

Beau knew how she felt. Lately, his homesickness had become a gnawing ache that nothing could soothe. Suddenly, he realized what attracted him to Jenna Jay. It wasn’t her slim, athletic body. Or her pretty, long hair. Or the freckles that sprinkled her nose. It was the place she hailed from. The place she called home.

Texas.

“So why did you leave?” he asked as he came up from the bed. “Davy?”

“That was part of it,” she said. “And maybe I left because I wanted to see who I am outside my large, overachieving family. In Texas, I’m just a Scroggs. Here, I’m my own person.” She paused. “Still, I miss it.”

Trying to lighten the mood, he moved up behind her. “So how’s your mama?” he said with the thickest twang he could muster.

She didn’t turn around, and when she spoke, her voice was soft and hollow. “I don’t know. I haven’t talked with her.”

If Beau had learned anything about women over the
years, he’d learned that they didn’t always want a man to ask a lot of questions and try to fix things. Most of the time they just wanted you to shut up and hold them. Beau figured this was one of those times. So he slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her back against him. Her muscles tensed for a second before she relaxed. Her ponytail brushed his nose, and he breathed deeply. Tonight she didn’t smell like cherries. She smelled like lemons. The kind his Aunt Tess used every summer in her fresh-squeezed lemonade.

“You could call her, you know?” he said as he fought the strong desire to lean over and brush his lips along her neck to see if she tasted sour or sweet.

She glanced over her shoulder. “It’s not that easy.”

Beau understood. He talked to his mother at least twice a week, but it never got any easier. She wanted him to come home. Something Beau couldn’t bring himself to do. Not now. And maybe not ever.

A piece of Jenna’s hair had come undone from her ponytail, and Beau reached out and smoothed it back behind her small, shell-shaped ear. “My mama’s hair used to be this exact color. Of course, she dyes it a different color every other week so she was bound to stumble on yours eventually.”

Jenna smiled and turned to face him. “My mama has never colored her hair. It’s as brown as a sable mink, just like my sisters’. I’m the only one in the family with hair this blond.” She reached up and gently rested her hand on his shoulder. “You should be in bed with ice on this.”

“It doesn’t hurt that much anymore.”

“Why bulls?” she asked. “Do you have some kind of a death wish?”

“Not even close.” He lifted her hand from his shoulder and examined the palm, running his thumb along the crisscrossed lines. “In fact, I have more of a life wish.” He drew a finger down the center. “I want to live. Not forever, but just until I do everything I want to do. Experience everything I want to experience.” He brought her palm to his lips and kissed it. “Taste everything I want to taste.”

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” she said rather breathlessly.

“But that’s the funny thing about ideas.” He nibbled on the tip of her index finger before running it along the bottom edge of his teeth. “Sometimes bad ideas can lead to really good times. Example—riding a bull with a dislocated shoulder led to me being here with you.” He kissed his way to her wrist. He tested the pulse that throbbed there with his tongue before looking up at her. “You want to see where another bad idea will lead? Because I sure as hell do, sweetheart.”

He didn’t wait for her reply. Instead, he released her hand and leaned down to kiss her softly parted lips. The desire that had been simmering since he’d first met her caught fire, and he lost himself in the heat of her mouth.

Unfortunately, she stopped him before he could get his fill.

“No.” She stepped back. “I can’t—”

“Jenna?”

They both turned. Her boyfriend stood in the doorway. He looked shocked, but instead of yelling or throwing a few punches, he just turned and walked out.

Jenna quickly followed, closing the door behind her. Figuring that was his cue to leave, Beau walked over and picked up his shirt off the chair. Rather than take time to
get it and his boots on, he stuffed them in his backpack. Since he wasn’t about to walk through the apartment and cause more problems, he headed to the window. He had just stepped out onto the fire escape when he heard Jenna’s voice coming out of the open window next to him. She was rambling, spilling much more than Beau thought was necessary.

“… he was hurt and didn’t have anyone to take care of him so I didn’t think you’d mind if I brought him home. And I was just giving him some more painkillers because everyone knows that you have to stay ahead of the pain. Then we got to talking about Texas—because like I told you the other day that’s where he’s from—but nothing happened. I mean, nothing more than that stupid kiss.”

Stupid kiss?
Beau moved closer to the window.

“I’m not mad, Jenna,” Davy said. “In fact, if you want the truth, I’m relieved that you found someone else.”

“What do you mean?” Jenna’s voice sounded strained. “I didn’t find anyone else. That cowboy means nothing to me.”

Beau’s brow knotted.

“It doesn’t matter,” Davy said. “It’s just not working out, babe. We’re two different people. I’m laid back, and you are… in some crazy hyper-drive. It worked out okay in college, but that kind of intensity doesn’t work for an artist. It smothers creative juices.”

Smothers creative juices? What an asshole.

Beau heard a door open, and Jenna’s voice came from the bedroom window.

“See. He’s gone. And I promise he won’t be back.” There was the sound of a drawer being opened. “What are you doing? You can’t leave me. I need you.”

Davy laughed. “You are the one person in the world who doesn’t need anyone.” There was a long silence that had Beau leaning over to peek into the window. Jenna stood in the middle of the room, watching as Davy shoveled most of the hair care products off the dresser and into a duffel bag. Once he had it zipped, he walked over and gave Jenna a brief kiss.

“See ya around, babe.”

Now Beau wasn’t a man who rejoiced in other people’s tribulations. Nor was he the type of man who looked a gift horse in the mouth. For some reason, fate had given him the hots for a skinny tomboy and then offered her up on a silver platter. And Beau wasn’t about to ignore the offering.

Of course, he would need to give her a little time to grieve the loss of the nipple-ringed dude. But since Beau was out of the bull-riding competition, he had nothing but time. He turned to head down the stairs when he ran smack dab into a hooded figure.

“Shit!” the boy yelped and threw a punch at Beau. He missed and hit the backpack, knocking it out of Beau’s hand and sending it sailing over the rail of the fire escape. Before he could correct his aim, Beau grabbed his sweatshirt and shoved the kid against the living room window.

“Beau?” Jenna’s head appeared. Her gaze ran over him before moving to his assailant. “Miguel? What are you doing out there?” She climbed out the window. “Does your mother know you’re up this late?”

“Let me go, Mofo!” The kid squirmed and tried to get away from Beau.

“I knew it,” Jenna said. “You’re dealing drugs, aren’t you?”

“No,” the kid said belligerently.

“Shall we find out?” Beau slipped the black backpack off the kid’s shoulder and tossed it to Jenna. For an athletic girl, she sucked at catch. Or maybe her reaction time was slow due to her depression over losing Davy. Either way, she missed, and the pack went sailing over the railing to join Beau’s.

That seemed to send the kid over the edge. He twisted inside his sweatshirt and fought like a little demon. Beau might’ve been able to hang on to him if he hadn’t hit him in the sore shoulder. Once Miguel was free, he raced down the stairs in a clatter of feet.

Beau would’ve let him go if Jenna hadn’t charged after Miguel. She couldn’t catch, but she could run. She was already racing toward the street by the time Beau jumped down from the fire escape ladder. Figuring Jenna could handle the kid, Beau searched around for his backpack. He found the kid’s, but not his. He had just picked it up when Jenna’s voice rang out.

“Can’t you get it through your heads? I’m not going with you!”

Beau came around the corner to find Jenna fighting with two men in cowboy hats and… John Wayne masks? Damn, the woman was more trouble than she was worth. Beau dropped the backpack and drove into the mountainous John Wayne. It was like running into a brick wall. The man just wrapped his tree-trunk arms around Beau and squeezed. Pain shot through Beau’s shoulder, and he groaned. The next thing he knew Jenna was hanging from the huge man’s back like a monkey.

“You leave him alone, you big ox!” She wrapped her arms around his thick neck in a death lock. He released
Beau, and once he was free, Beau stepped back and threw a punch at John Wayne’s big rubber chin. Unfortunately, the man twisted at the last second, and instead of Beau’s fist connecting with his jaw, it connected with Jenna’s.

Like a tranquilized calf, she slipped from the man’s back and landed in a puddle at his boots. Before Beau could do more than blink, a fist the size of a dinner plate came at him.

There was an explosion of pain, followed by complete darkness.

“J
ENNA
? W
AKE UP, SWEETHEART
.”

The word “sweetheart” had a warm, contented feeling settling in Jenna’s stomach. She tried to go back to sleep, but the person who had called her a sweetheart wouldn’t let her. He gently shook her until she opened her eyes.

Darkness greeted her before a flash of light illuminated Beau’s concerned face.

“Are you okay?” he asked as he reached out and cradled her chin, brushing his thumb over a very tender spot.

The light faded, throwing the room into darkness again. Jenna tried to get her brain to work. What was she doing in the dark with Beauregard Cates? Hadn’t she already decided that being alone with Beau was a bad idea? Except it didn’t feel like a bad idea. With his jeaned legs pressed against hers and his warm hand cradling her jaw, it just felt right.

Lights flashed again. They looked to be coming from the window above Beau’s head. A tiny window that Jenna didn’t recognize. Nor did she recognize the dingy curtains that swayed from the skinny rod. Before things
could register, a loud horn blasted, causing Jenna to sit straight up and crack her head on the low ceiling.

“Dang it!” She fell back down to Beau’s chest and grabbed her head, but she must’ve hit his sore shoulder because he released a pain-filled groan. She scooted over only to come in contact with a wall. “Where are we?” she asked.

“We’re in a camper,” Beau stated. “Similar to the one my Uncle Jasper used to take me fishing in when I was a kid. Which might explain why I remember the bed being a lot bigger.”

“A camper?” Jenna carefully lifted her head and looked around as the next set of headlights flashed through the window. “What are we doing in a camper?”

“I’ve been waiting to ask you the same thing,” he said. “I only came to a couple minutes before you did. I’m assuming we have one of your many enemies to thank for this camping vacation.”

Suddenly, everything that happened that night came back to her. Beau’s kiss. Davy breaking up with her. Chasing after Miguel. Two masked men waiting outside her apartment building. The fight that ensued. Her getting hit in the jaw by…

“You hit me!” She slugged Beau in the shoulder, realizing too late that it was the injured one.

His breath hissed out before he grabbed her fist. “Shit, woman, calm down. I didn’t exactly do it on purpose. The idiot you were choking moved at the last second.”

“I would’ve been able to bring him down with the chokehold if you hadn’t interfered.”

“Remind me not to come to your rescue again.” He released her hand and flopped back on the pillow.
“Especially when all you’ve done is cause me trouble. I would be sleeping soundly in my hotel room right now if not for your interference.”

“No doubt cuddled up next to Peggy’s super boobs,” she huffed as she climbed over him and jumped down to the floor. It didn’t take her long to locate a light switch. She flicked it on, and a dull overhead light came on. The camper wasn’t big, or particularly well cared for. The material on the small table’s bench seats was worn and stained. The paneling on the walls was scratched and peeling away from the metal frame. And the entire place reeked of beer and fish.

There was one door and two windows. The windows were small and covered on the outside with some kind of metal. The door was locked and wouldn’t budge. Even when Jenna tried to kick it open. With pain shooting up her leg, she sat down on one of the bench seats at the table and rubbed the sole of her bare foot.