Make Mine a Bad Boy (25 page)

“Put him down,” Hope yelled.

Colt glanced over at her, and his eyes narrowed. “You know this man?”

“Know him,” Rachel Dean teased. “After a kiss like that, I’d say she knows him pretty well.”

“Yeah,” Twyla joined in. “You sure he ain’t the daddy of your babies, Hope?”

“She’s got a point, Hog,” Kenny said. “Who else but a man in love would offer a hun-nerd for one kiss?”

There was a moment when Colt’s grip tightened so much that Hope wondered if he was actually going to snuff the life right out of Ryan. But then his fingers relaxed, and Ryan slithered to the floor. Colt glanced back at Hope for one brief second before he tossed something to the floor and walked away. Rushing over, Hope knelt down to ask Ryan if he was okay, but the words got stuck in her throat when her gaze drifted down.

There on the high-polished wood of the gymnasium floor was one crumpled dollar bill.

C
OLT SHOULD LEAVE
. He was pissed. And when he was pissed, he always did stupid things. Things he would regret later. Except his feet weren’t listening to his head, and he continued to lean in the doorway of the auxiliary gym and glare at the vampire who had just offered Hope a bite of his caramel apple.

Colt hadn’t known what to expect when he returned to Bramble, but it certainly wasn’t another man. For some crazy reason, he had been convinced there was only one man in Hope’s life to worry about—Slate. Now he had to reevaluate his entire way of thinking, and it didn’t exactly sit well.

A gay roommate he could laugh off. A heterosexual Hollywood agent was not so funny. Especially when Colt wasn’t buying his story. No agent Colt had ever met would waste his time driving hundreds of miles just to check on one of his clients. That was what cell phones were for. Which meant the man was here for a different reason. A reason that had Colt’s temper boiling and his stomach knotted in a tight fist, a fist that tightened when Ryan leaned over to whisper something in Hope’s ear.

Just that quickly, Colt realized he’d been wrong. He wouldn’t regret wiping the fake blood off the man’s chin with his fist. Not now or later.

“Hollywood agent, my ass,” he growled under his breath. But obviously not low enough.

“I know what you mean, sugar buns. I couldn’t believe it either.”

It took an effort for Colt to pull his gaze away from Hope and over to Marcy Henderson. Now here was something Colt regretted already. He had no business latching on to Marcy like a spurned teenage boy. But there he stood, staring into a pair of eyes that held the same sexual invitation that had been there for as long as he’d known her.

“Hope has always stretched the truth,” Marcy continued in a high-pitched voice that grated on his nerves. “But after talking with Ryan, I realized she wasn’t lying after all. Ryan is an honest-to-goodness Hollywood agent.” She placed a hand on her chest, drawing Colt’s attention to the ample breasts that swelled above the low neckline of her tight sweater. “In fact, he offered me a part in one of those horror movies. ’Course I never was much of a screamer… least ways, not out of bed.”

She paused as her gaze slid over Colt. “It’s sure hot for October, don’t you think, sugar? I swear I’m about ready to incinerate.” Leaning over, she pressed her breasts against his folded arms. “What say, we go on back to my trailer and have us a nice cold beer? If I remember correctly, you always did like a cold one… followed by a lot of heat.”

He had to admit the breasts felt nice. Unfortunately, they were accompanied by the overpowering smell of cheap perfume. Still, when he glanced up and noticed
Hope watching, he seized the opportunity as any spurned teenage boy would.

“Well, that sure sounds like fun, honey.” His hands slid around her waist as he sent her a smoldering look. “But I’ve had a hard week, so I think I’m going to head back to Shirlene’s and get some sleep.”

“Sleep?” She looked thoroughly confused at the mixed signals he was sending her. “Since when do you sleep, Colt Lomax?”

Noting that Hope had gotten up from the table and was now walking off, he released Marcy. “Since I turned thirty.” He tried to soften the rejection with a wink. “But how about if I drive you home?” It was the least he could do after using her to appease his wounded ego.

“No, thanks.” Marcy shot him an annoyed look as she smoothed down her pink sweater. “I might be over thirty, but I ain’t dead yet.” With a flip of her fifties poodle skirt, she strutted over to a group of cowboys, who seemed more than happy to see her.

Once she was gone, Colt glanced around, but Hope was nowhere to be found. It was probably for the best. With the way he felt, he didn’t need to confront her tonight. He slipped out the door and walked down the short hallway to the main gym. The carnival was winding down, and most of the booths had closed. But still people were reluctant to call it a night and stood around talking, as their children raced up and down the bleachers, hyped up on the sweets they’d consumed.

Colt weaved his way through the crowd on his way to the doors without much notice, which was why he was surprised when the tall, lanky kid who played quarterback for Bramble High stopped him.

“You’re Colt Lomax, right?” When Colt nodded, the kid introduced himself. “I’m Austin Reeves.”

Colt took his hand and gave it a brief shake. No wonder the kid could handle a football with such ease; his hands were the size of dinner plates. “I hear the Bulldogs are headed for state. Congratulations.”

He grinned. “Thank you, sir. We’ve got a great team of guys.” He held out a folded orange napkin. “The witch wanted me to give you this.”

“The witch?” Colt took the napkin and glanced around. Hope stood just inside the doors that led out to the courtyard. Except she now wore a witch’s hat that placed half her face in shadow. But he had no difficulty seeing the daring smile before she turned and disappeared through the doors.

Thanking Austin with a nod, Colt followed after her, flipping the napkin open and reading it as he went. When he got outside, Hope was already hurrying across the courtyard—her purple hair and black dress fluttering in the cool October breeze before she slipped inside the main building.

The note had said she wanted to talk. Obviously, she didn’t want to be overheard by anyone in town. Or maybe she just didn’t want her boyfriend to find out. The thought annoyed him, and he quickened his step, jerking open the door and taking the stairs to the second level two at a time.

When he reached the designated classroom, his gaze was caught by a cuss word scratched into the metal of one of the lockers that lined the hallway. The locker hadn’t belonged to him, but the angry word did. The awkwardly written letters brought back a flood
of memories—memories of a loner who had never quite fit in.

The room was dark when he stepped inside. The only light spilled in from the hallway. But even that disappeared when the door eased shut behind him. He took a few steps into the room, only to bump into a desk.

He muttered an oath as he stepped back and rubbed his thigh. He waited for Hope to laugh, but all he heard was the tick-tick of a clock. And all he could see was the shadowy outline of desks.

Obviously, Hope wasn’t finished leading him a merry chase.

But Colt was finished. The long week in Houston, coupled with his anger, had left him too tired to keep up with a wildcat. So he turned back to the door with every intention of calling it a night, except that just as he reached for the doorknob, it was pulled open by a witch—minus the hat.

“Look, Hope, I don’t have the time or the patience for any more of your games,” Colt stated. But even as he said it, he stepped back to allow her entry.

“Funny, but I was just going to say the exact same thing.” She strode into the room with her normal sass, and he couldn’t help reaching out to stop her before she smacked into the same desk as he had.

She wasn’t exactly grateful for the help. With something that sounded like a snarl, she jerked away from him.

“Don’t touch me.”

He held up his hands. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. That’s the last thing I want to do.”

“So what do you want?” She headed back to the door, and he watched her feel around for the light switch.

“What do I want?” He sat down on the top of a desk and crossed his arms. “I thought this conversation was going to include what you wanted. Child support. A new minivan. A house to keep your Hollywood boyfriend in the style he expects.”

Giving up on the light switch, she turned to him. “As if I would waste my time asking for those things from a motorcycle bum. Lyle’s money has you living in some kind of a dream world, Lomax. At least in high school, you accepted who you were.”

“Accepted? Did I have a choice? This town gave me my role, and I was expected to play it.”

“And you’re still doing a great job. Colt Lomax the big, bad boy with the nasty chip on his shoulder who runs off at the first sign of trouble.” She turned and walked to the front of the class. Obviously, her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, because she didn’t run into anything. Unlike Colt, who banged his shin on a desk leg after no more than two steps. He bit back a cuss word and hobbled over to the opposite side of the teacher’s desk.

“I came back, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, a week later!” She pulled off her wig and tossed it down on the desk.

“What do you want from me, Hope? You want me to be the big hero—the one who saves the day with a game-winning touchdown? Because if that’s the case, you’ve got the wrong man. I’m not ever going to be Slate.” He stepped around the desk. “It’s too bad that Faith had to show up. If she hadn’t, you would now be married to the only man who’s ever been good enough for you.” He paused. “Of course, that doesn’t explain your relationship with your agent. Come to think of it, maybe I should be
asking for a paternity test, seeing as how you seem to get around more than Marcy.”

The slap that she gave him rang his bell. He was so dazed and confused that it took him a moment to realize she had headed for the door. She already had it opened by the time he reached her.

“Oh, no, you don’t.” He slammed the door closed and spun her around. “You wanted to talk, so talk.”

“Why, you bastard!” Hope pushed at his chest. “Get your hands off me.”

“After seeing you with your agent, I thought you liked being pawed.”

Hope stopped trying to pull away. “You should talk! If I’d known you still haven’t grown up enough to avoid women like Marcy, I never would’ve had sex with you in the first place. Now, not only do I have to worry about being pregnant, but I also have to worry about what I might’ve caught.”

“Worried about being pregnant?” He stared down at her, trying to make out her features in the darkness. “Are you telling me that you’re not sure?”

He couldn’t see her face clearly, but he could hear her swallow.

“I refuse to believe it until my doctor’s appointment in Midland.”

“You sure as hell sounded positive when you busted into Shirlene’s guesthouse, screaming at the top of your lungs.” He took a step back and ran a hand through his hair. “Do you know the hell you put me through in the last week?”

“You think it’s been easy for me?”

“From my vantage point, it looks like you’ve been whooping it up with your Hollywood boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“So what is he to you?” he couldn’t stop himself from asking.

“None of your business.”

He didn’t know what annoyed him more: her refusal to define her relationship with her agent or her refusal to accept she was pregnant with his child. Whichever it was, it had his back up and his temper high. Before she could utter more than a startled squeak, he jerked her up and kissed her.

After their hateful words, the heat of Hope’s response took him by surprise. She held nothing back, answering his passion with a raw energy that left him slightly dazed. Her sweet tongue dipped inside his mouth, demanding attention, and he gave it, sucking and stroking until her moan resounded in his ears. Pulling away from the kiss, he sipped a path to her ear.

“What is he to you, Hope?” Colt whispered. “Can he cause you to tremble like this?” He sucked on a tender spot, and when she quivered in reaction, his hand slipped down and cupped her through the thin black dress. “Or ache like this?”

Her hands slid up from his chest, and he had just started to enjoy the feel of her fingers caressing his scalp when they closed around his hair and yanked so hard that he saw stars. Before he could recover, she opened the door and slipped out. He went after her, but she hadn’t lettered in track for nothing, and by the time he caught up with her, she had reached the gym.

Colt grabbed her arm and cut to the chase. “When’s your doctor’s appointment?”

Hope turned on him, her eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“Because I want to be there.”

She smiled smugly. “Sort of like you were there for me this past week?”

“When?” he repeated. But before she could answer, Hope’s mama yelled across the gym.

“Colt, quit teasing Hope. She needs to help me get these boxes in the car.”

Colt had always respected Jenna, but he refused to release Hope until she answered him. As if sensing his determination, it didn’t take her long to give in.