Make Mine a Bad Boy (6 page)

“I’m not coming to bed. I’m going to find a way out of here if it kills me!” She sent him her most determined look. He must’ve read it perfectly, because he released a long, heavy sigh.

“Well, hell.” In one fluid motion, he was off the bed, had the light off, and her hefted over his shoulder.

“Put me down!” She kicked and swung at him, but she couldn’t do much damage in the two strides it took to get to the bed. He tossed her down on the mattress, and before she could sit up, he bounced down next to her and clamped an arm around her waist.

“Now believe me, honey, when I tell you that I’ve always found your temper tantrums entertaining. But after riding for close to twenty hours, getting my bell rung, my shins kicked, and tossed into jail for no damned good reason, my patience is running a little thin. So I think the smart thing for you to do right now is to be quiet and go to sleep.”

“I’m not going to sleep with you!”

“Then don’t sleep—I don’t give a damn. But you’re not getting out of this bed until the sun shines through that window up there.”

She made one more attempt at getting loose, but he only tugged her closer and flung one very hard thigh over her legs.

“You are the same arrogant jerk you were in high school,” she huffed.

“And you’re the same spoiled brat.”

“I’m not spoiled.”

He stuffed a pillow under his head, while his other arm remained firmly tucked around her waist. “I don’t know what you would call it. You have an entire town doing your bidding.”

Accepting the fact that she wasn’t going anywhere, she relaxed and allowed her arms to flop over the corded muscles of his forearm. “Not the entire town.”

“No, I guess you’re right.” And with that, he pressed his face into her matted possum pelt and went to sleep.

Hope lay awake, trying to figure out how she had ended up in bed with Colt Lomax. Again.

H
OPE
S
CROGGS WAS
a cuddle bug.

Who would’ve guessed it? Certainly not Colt. Not after a lifetime of watching the sassy, independent woman strut around Bramble as if she owned the place. Which she pretty much did. At least, every heart in Bramble belonged to Hope.

Except one—one lone heart that wasn’t stupid enough to give itself to such a stubborn wildcat. No, his heart didn’t belong to her, but other parts of his body could be persuaded to. Especially when she was plastered against his chest like a nice custom paint job, miles of rich brown hair spilling down his sides like bronze metallic flames. How did such a small woman grow hair so thick and gorgeous?

He gently ran his hand through the tangled mass. He could bathe in it, wrap himself in the satin strands twice over and drown beneath the silken waves. Bringing it to his nose, he breathed deeply. The scent, faint but familiar, was a mix between earthy woman and sweet berries. As far back as he could remember, Hope always smelled like berries. Smelled and tasted.

Smoothing the hair back from her face, he studied her lips. They were about as perfect a pair as he had seen. Not too plump and not to skinny, with two cute little peaks that just begged for some lovin’. And since he had never been a man to refuse a woman’s plea, he leaned down and brushed his lips over hers. Not a deep kiss, just a settling of firm flesh against soft.

“Mmmm.” She hummed against his mouth, sending a sizzling shaft of heat straight to his crotch.

Liking the direction things were heading, Colt deepened the kiss. But just as he was about to slip into all that warmth, her eyes blinked open. Up close, they were bluer than he remembered—a mixture of cobalt and azure that would elude the most talented artist’s airbrush. They stared back at him, all sleep-drugged and baffled. And for a moment, he got lost. Unfortunately, a moment was all it took for her to remember where she was… and who he was. When she did, she pulled away, taking all that wet heat and mind-altering blue with her.

“You!”

He figured she was about to tack on a few descriptive words. But before she could, her gaze shifted up to the sun shining in through the window. Her eyes widened, and she scrambled off the bed and started searching for her slippers.

“Why did you let me sleep so late? They’ll be here any minute to give you breakfast.”

Since it looked like the fun was over, he rolled to his feet. “Eight o’clock on the dot. And with my stomach touching my backbone, I’m sure looking forward to some homemade biscuits and gravy.”

“No!” She stared at him as if he had lost his mind. “Don’t you see? I can’t be found in here with you.”

“You could always tell them you came to save my black soul.” He moved over to the toilet and unzipped his pants.

“If we could just find a hairpin—” She hesitated at the first splash. “Are you…?”

At her shocked voice, he glanced over his shoulder into her bright red face.

“Draining the lizard? Emptying the fuel tank? Taking a piss—?”

“I get it!” She whirled around and started searching the corners as far from him as she could get.

He grinned. Sex would’ve been a lot funnier, but he had to admit that teasing Hope was pretty darned fun.

After using the bathroom, he washed his hands and rinsed out his mouth before he picked up the washcloth and cleaned away the blood that he’d missed the night before. The cut on his lip had started to scab over and in a few days wouldn’t even be noticeable. He rubbed a hand over his beard. He could sure use a shave. He wondered how long Shirlene planned on keeping him locked up. Talk about a spoiled brat. Still, he had told her that he would stay the night, which was why he had gone along with Sheriff Winslow without a fight. If she wanted him to stay so badly that she had him tossed in jail, he figured he could at least give her a day.

One day wouldn’t hurt anything.

He turned around to find Hope on her hands and knees, scouring every inch of the concrete floor. He had to give it to her. She was tenacious. Tenacious and damned sexy in the pink pajama bottoms sheer enough to see that she wasn’t wearing any panties.

Offered such a nice view, he figured he had a few more
minutes to spare before he headed over to Shirlene’s. He flopped down on the bed and stacked his hands behind his head. Hope had never had much in the boob department, but what she lacked up top she made up for downstairs with an ass so sweet and tight that it made his mouth water. It was a darn shame her tenacity paid off as quickly as it did.

“I found one!” She jumped up and held out what looked to be a skinny silver straight pin.

He squinted. “Uh, I hate to disappoint you, honey. But that’s not going to work. A hairpin, maybe. A paper clip, even better. But a little bitty straight pin, no way.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Being as how you spent more than a few nights here, I probably should take your word for it. Except you never were good at setting goals and achieving them.”

“And just what goals would those be?”

“Any goals—sports—high school—college.” She strutted over to the bars and squatted down, showing a hint of butt crack that caused all the moisture to evaporate from his mouth.

“The only things you put any effort in were motorcycles and women.” She slipped the pin into the lock, and with each wiggle, the elastic waistband inched down, then back up.

Colt swallowed hard. What were they talking about?

“Not that the loose women in this town made you work real hard,” she continued, although he no longer could comprehend a single word. Not with her pajamas playing peek-a-boo butt crack. She stretched even further and revealed so much butt cleavage that a moan escaped his lips.

She swiveled around. “What’s wrong?”

He cleared his throat—twice—before he could speak.

“Nothing.” He patted his stomach. “Just hungry, is all.”

Sending him a skeptical look, Hope went back to lock-picking. “Is that all you can think about, Lomax—physical satisfaction?”

Pretty much.
At least, that was all he could think about at the moment; the satisfaction of filling his hands with those sweet cheeks. Unfortunately, he had learned from past experience that giving into temptation was extremely bad for his health. Which meant he needed to get out of there before his body overruled his brain.

He sat up. “You about spent, honey?”

“No. I just about got it. All I need is a little more… Damn it!” She bent over and searched the floor, giving Colt a view that almost sent him to his knees.

Luckily, before he could start begging, she turned and flopped back against the bars, sending him a look that wasn’t all that friendly.

“Is it too much to ask for you to get off your butt and help me out?”

He lifted his eyebrows. “You want me to help? Because I thought you had your heart set on doing it all by your lonesome.”

Hope gritted her teeth. “The only thing I have my heart set on is getting you out of this town as quickly as possible and the hell away from me!”

“In that case.” He rolled to his feet and walked over to the picture of the Texas state flag that hung on the wall. Reaching behind the frame, he felt around until he found the paper clip stuck in between the bricks.

“What are you doing?” she asked as he walked over with the stretched-out piece of wire.

“Granting your wish, honey.” He winked at her before he knelt on the cold concrete and slipped his arm through the bars. It had been a lot easier when he was a skinny kid. Now that his biceps barely fit, it took a little more concentration. Which was close to impossible with Hope standing there tapping a foot.

“Are you telling me that you could’ve broken us out last night?”

“No.” He wiggled the end of the paper clip in the lock.

“Don’t you dare lie to me, Colt Lomax! Not when the proof is right in front of my eyes.”

There was a click as the lock released, and he pushed the door open.

Straightening, Colt turned to her. “Now how could a no-account motorcycle bum break us out of jail when a spoiled control freak already had a plan?”

“Oooo!” Hope stomped her foot before she flopped past him. “You have always loved making a fool of me.”

“Maybe because it’s so easy to do.”

“Easy for a troublemaker with mischief on his mind.” She jerked open the outer door, her elbow jabbing him hard in the stomach. “And don’t think I don’t know that you were the one behind all those mean pranks that happened to me.”

“I don’t know what pranks you’re talking about.”

She bent over to pick up the keys. “The frogs in my bed. The garter snakes in my lunch box. The huge rubber pig on the homecoming semi. My bra hoisted up on the town hall flagpole. The live ammo in the prop gun of my senior play.”

“Live ammo in a prop gun? You really think I’d be that devious?”

Hope glared over her shoulder as she stomped down the hallway. “I don’t think so! I know!”

Colt followed her at a more leisurely pace, partly so she wouldn’t see his grin and partly because he wasn’t in any hurry. The night in Bramble hadn’t been so bad after all. Although the company could’ve been a little sweeter. Of course, he had never liked things too sweet. He preferred his coffee black and bitter. His food spicy and hot.

And his women…

His gaze followed her cute little butt as it slipped into Sheriff Winslow’s office, then back out again.

And his women warm and willing.

Something Hope would never be.

Outside the jailhouse, it was a nice autumn day. Not too hot and not too cool, with blue skies that stretched on forever. Summer in West Texas could be hot, dry, and brutal. But autumn made a man feel like hopping on a motorcycle and cruising down to Fredericksburg for some peaches or over to Austin for some good blues or down to San Antonio to mingle with the spirits of heroes.

Of course, in order to do that, you needed to have a motorcycle to hop on to. And looking around the parking lot, it didn’t appear that he did.

“Where’s my bike?”

The words were spoken more to himself than to Hope, who was already half a block away. It didn’t take him long to catch up with her short legs and to step in front of her.

“Where’s my bike?”

“How would I know?” She tried to sidestep him but he met her, steel toe to matted fur.

“So you were going to break me out of jail with no form of transportation?”

“I figured you could handle that part of the plan.” She flipped a hand in the air. “Which was really crazy of me, considering you don’t seem to be able to handle any part of any plan.”

His eyebrows lifted. “I got us out, didn’t I?”

“About four hours too late!” She whirled and started back down the street. As he watched those silly little slippers eat up the concrete, he realized she was probably right. He shouldn’t have spent an hour alone with her, let alone four. Which didn’t explain why he hurried to catch back up.

“Josie still make the best red chili this side of the Pecos?” It was a stupid thing to say, but with less than four hours of sleep and no coffee, it was the best he could come up with. It seemed to work, because she stopped and stared at him.