Читать книгу This Kiss - Debbi Rawlins, Debbi Rawlins - Страница 7

1

“GOTCHA!” SOPHIE MICHAELS grinned when she saw the motel’s address on the computer screen. After a quick sip of morning coffee, she sent the file to her partner, Lola, who was sitting in the next office.

The rush from getting her man lasted barely a minute. Sophie sank back in her chair and sighed. Lately, the thrill of success was fleeting and not all that sweet.

Locating the deadbeat dad was rewarding because, well...he had three kids to support. But if he was going to jump bail anyway, couldn’t he have done a better job of covering his tracks? For God’s sake, a fourth grader could’ve found him.

After four years the job was finally getting to her. Too much sitting at the computer. Too much of the same old thing every day. Skip traces, lame excuses, shaken or resigned parents putting up collateral for their wayward children or, almost as frequently, the roles being reversed. Here in Wattsville, Wyoming, nothing much exciting happened. Oh, they had bank robberies occasionally and liquor store holdups, but those types of criminals tended to be really stupid and that made her job boring.

Sophie sighed. Working in the bail bond business wouldn’t be forever. Mostly she’d signed on to help Lola get the company off the ground. Sophie looked on her cousin more like a sister. And Lola didn’t mind that Sophie was sticking around only until she’d figured out what to do with her life.

Rolling her chair away from her dinged-up metal desk, Sophie dropped her chin to her chest and stretched her neck to the side. Feeling the strain of muscles that had been worked too hard earlier at the gym, she tried not to whimper. At least not loud enough for Lola to hear.

The front door to the reception area squeaked open and she glanced at the clock. “Oh, come on,” she muttered. How could it be only eight-fifteen? It felt like noon.

They were expecting Mandy, the third member of their team, to return from Jackson Hole sometime this morning. But in case it was a potential client, Sophie got up. When she heard Hawk’s voice, she promptly sat back down. And wished her door was closed. Hawk was Lola’s sleazy boyfriend of three months. Sophie didn’t like him, but so far she’d kept her mouth shut.

Lola hadn’t had much luck with men in the past, but two people had never been less suited to each other. Hawk wasn’t very bright, was sometimes crude and was under the delusion that riding a Harley and wearing black leather made him a badass.

He was a poser, no doubt in Sophie’s mind. She knew something about desperately pretending to be someone you weren’t just to fit in. A tiny bit of sympathy for him stopped her from telling Lola that his real name was Floyd and he was a high school dropout.

Sophie smiled. The idiot didn’t get that she was really, really good with computers. And she knew a whole lot more about him than she’d let on.

Which she’d keep to herself. Unless Floyd kept pissing her off. She wasn’t the quiet, naive young girl she used to be in high school. Unlike Floyd aka Hawk, she had put a great deal of effort into transforming herself.

“Hey, Shorty,” Hawk said, lounging against her office door frame. “Missed you at the gym this morning.”

She hated the nickname, which he knew. Anyway, five-four wasn’t that short. She gave his tall, lanky body a once-over. “Like you’ve ever seen the inside of a gym.”

He laughed. “Gotta admit, you’re looking pretty buff,” he said, pushing back his straggly hair and eyeing her legs.

“Lola’s in her office.”

“I know. She’s busy.”

“So am I.” Resisting the urge to tug down the hem of her bike shorts, Sophie swiveled in her chair so that her legs were under the desk, her gaze on the monitor.

“You guys working on something big?”

She noticed that line 2 was lit. Lola was on the phone. “Why are you still here?”

“Chillax, Shorty. Just making conversation while I wait for the old lady.”

The front door opened again and Hawk glanced over his shoulder. His look of dread made Sophie smile. It had to be Mandy. She’d been working as a bounty hunter in Colorado before Lola hired her two years ago, and she could be intimidating at times. Plus, she didn’t like Hawk any more than Sophie did. Only, Mandy wasn’t as circumspect.

A whoop came from Lola’s office. “Okay, ladies, we’ve got a live one. Mandy, are you here?”

Sophie leaped out of her chair and barreled past Hawk, who had enough smarts to get out of her way. “Somebody jumped bail?”

“Oh yeah.” Lola walked out of her office waving a piece of paper. “You’ll never guess who.”

The waiting area was small, with two chairs, a ficus that was alive only because Lola remembered to water it and a rack of magazines, where Mandy stood, tall, beefed-up and calm as could be. She wasn’t the excitable type. “Ethan Styles,” she said, and dropped her duffel bag.

Lola shoved back her long red hair and sighed. “How did you know?”

“Ethan Styles,” Sophie murmured under her breath. She must’ve heard wrong. If his name was on the list of bonds they’d posted, she would’ve noticed. She knew him...sort of... “Who did you say?”

Lola’s concerned gaze found Sophie. “I’m pretty sure you remember Ethan.”

“The rodeo guy, right?” Hawk moved to the circle and sidled up to Lola when Sophie and Mandy gave him butt-out glares. “He’s that hotshot bull rider.”

Lola nodded and looked at Mandy. “You just get back from Jackson Hole?”

“An hour ago,” Mandy said with a curious glance at Sophie. “I turned Jergens over to Deputy Martin.”

Sophie couldn’t seem to slow down her brain. Too many memories of Ethan revolved like a slide show on speed. She hadn’t seen him up close since high school. She’d gone to a few rodeos just to see him, but only from the bleachers and it had been a while. Sometimes she watched him on TV, but not often. She wasn’t a kid anymore and there was only so much daydreaming a woman could do without feeling like a dope.

“You get any sleep yet?” Lola asked Mandy, who just smiled.

“I hate to send you out again, but I got a tip that Styles might be headed for northwest Montana. A town called Blackfoot Falls.”

“No shit. Pretty boy has an outstanding warrant?” Hawk laughed. “What did he get locked up for? Screwing somebody’s wife?”

The expression on Lola’s face hinted that Hawk might not be far off the mark.

It wouldn’t surprise Sophie if he was in trouble because of a woman. Half the girls in school had had the hots for him. Even now he left female fans across the country panting, but so what? Lola was mistaken if she thought Ethan’s reputation with the ladies bothered Sophie. He didn’t faze her. Not anymore.

“Why didn’t he pay his own bail? Between his winnings and endorsement deals, he has to have money,” Sophie said, mostly thinking out loud.

Lola shrugged. “He wouldn’t be the first pro athlete to blow his cash on stupid things,” she said. “We have the pink slip for his motor coach as collateral, so I had no problem with posting. I have to say, though, I’m surprised he skipped. He’s not due in court until Monday, but he wasn’t supposed to leave the state.”

“I’ll do it.” Sophie squared her shoulders when they all stared at her. “I’ll go after him.”

Lola shook her head. “Not a good idea, Soph.”

“You’ve never worked in the field.” Mandy’s quiet reminder somehow felt like a betrayal.

Even though Sophie had started kickboxing and tae kwon do back in college, it was Mandy who’d inspired her to go all out, work her body to its full potential. Sophie was in the best physical shape of her life and Mandy knew it. Anyway, Ethan might not come along willingly, but he wasn’t the type to get rough.

“I told you guys I wanted to be more involved.” She glared first at Lola, and then Mandy. “I know Ethan. I can bring him back with the least amount of fuss.”

Hawk snorted. “No way. You don’t know Styles.”

“Shut up,” Mandy said without looking at him. Her gaze stayed on Sophie. “You think you’re ready?”

“I know I am.” She glanced at Lola, who’d just given Hawk an impatient look. So maybe all wasn’t peachy keen with the lovebirds. Good. Her cousin deserved better.

Lola met her gaze. “No, not Ethan. You can have the next one.”

“I’m not asking for permission. I own half this company.” Flexing her tense shoulders, Sophie ignored the looks of surprise. She and Lola never argued. Not over business, or their personal lives. “Text me the details. I’ll go home, grab a few things and leave within the hour.”

“Come on, Soph.” Lola pinched the bridge of her nose. “Let’s talk privately. Please.”

“What she says makes sense.” Hawk cut Lola short, earning him a warning look, which he obviously didn’t like judging by his creepy scowl. “Why not let her go after him?”

“Excuse me—” Sophie stopped. Hawk was defending her? Okay, now, that was weird. She didn’t need his help, but hey, bonus points for trying. “This isn’t up for discussion,” she said. “All we’re doing is wasting time.”

“Knowing him might not be an advantage,” Mandy said. “Surprise is your best weapon. He sees you, he could run.”

“Ethan won’t remember me.” Sophie avoided Lola’s gaze. “Even if he does, he won’t associate me with Lola’s Bail Bonds.”

Lola followed Sophie into her office. “We need to talk, kiddo,” she said, closing the door behind her.

“You’re not changing my mind.” Sophie sifted through her cluttered drawer and found her wallet. Now, where were her keys?

She crouched to check under her desk and found them next to a protein bar she’d misplaced yesterday. Grabbing them both, she pushed to her feet.

“Will you at least hear me out?” Her cousin’s dark eyes weren’t just worried but annoyed.

“Go ahead.” Sophie unwrapped the bar and stuck half of it in her mouth, since she wouldn’t have time to eat anything else. She had to get on the road fast. No telling how much of a head start Ethan had... “When did he leave for Montana, do you know?”

“Are you going to listen to me at all?”

“Probably not.”

“Goddammit, Sophie.” Lola paused and lowered her voice. “We can’t afford for you to get all goo-goo-eyed over him. He’ll sweet-talk you into letting him go and we’ll be screwed.”

Sophie chewed a bit, then said, “Wow, your faith in me is really touching.”

“It’s not that. The money’s important, but I hate to think of you getting all twisted up over him again.”

“Oh, for God’s sake, I was never twisted up.”

“Yes, you were.” Lola smiled. “Don’t forget, I was there. Anyway, that was high school, so you were allowed.”

“Exactly. It was high school. I was fifteen. We had a fleeting encounter. Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

“He was your hero,” Lola said, her voice softening.

Sophie turned away to pick up her gym bag. “You’re only twenty-eight. I’m sure you still remember what it was like to be fifteen.”

At the beginning of her freshman year, Sophie and her mom had moved to Wyoming. Lola had been a junior and the only person Sophie knew in her new school. They hadn’t become friends quickly. Her cousin had had her own clique, and back then, Sophie had entered a nerdy phase, trying to balance her high IQ and an awkward social life.

That alone hadn’t made her the target of bullies. Having had the audacity to wear the wrong dress was the line she’d crossed. She found out later that the most popular girl in school had worn the same sundress the week before Sophie even started at Wattsville High. The whole thing was ridiculous, considering that Ashley had huge boobs and Sophie had little more than two mosquito bites. So of course Ashley had looked so much better in the spaghetti-strap dress.

God, Sophie still remembered what it had felt like to have those girls come after her with scissors. They’d cut her dress to ribbons before Ethan had stopped them and put his jacket over her shoulders.

Turned out Ashley was Ethan’s girlfriend. But he’d been furious when he stepped in and warned them off. After that, the girls still gave her evil looks, but they kept their distance.

Damn straight he’d been her hero.

“Are you still following his career?” Lola asked.

“No.” Sophie set the gym bag on her chair and shut down her laptop, refusing to look up. “I know you saw me at my worst, sneaking around, following him, trying to stay on his radar. Frankly it embarrasses me to even think about it.” All while he’d acted as if she hadn’t existed. That part she left out, and met Lola’s gaze. “Did you and Hawk have a fight?”

Lola’s brows went up. “Why?”

“I saw the look you gave him.”

“No, it’s just...” Lola waved dismissively. “I’d already told him he shouldn’t be hanging around here.”

Sophie tucked her tablet under her arm. “Look, the thing with Ethan happened a long time ago. I was a kid.” She smiled. “I can do this.”

Lola studied her for a moment. “Okay,” she said with a resigned sigh. “I just don’t understand why you’d want to.”

“I know,” Sophie said softly. She didn’t quite get it herself. It wasn’t as if she needed closure, but in a weird way, that was exactly how it felt. She stopped halfway to the door. “Don’t you think it’s odd he jumped bail? Ethan has a reputation for being a stand-up guy.”

“I don’t know what he’s thinking. He certainly doesn’t have a low profile.”

“Nope. The National Finals Rodeo in Las Vegas starts in about a week. He’s going for his second championship title—” She saw the concern in Lola’s eyes. “I read something about it online the other day,” she murmured. “Try not to worry, okay? I’ve got this.”

She hoped.

* * *

THE WATERING HOLE was noisy, crowded with cowboys drinking beer and gorgeous accommodating women dressed to kill. Ethan Styles had frequented hundreds of bars just like this one in the nine years since he turned pro. He knew what it was like the night before a rodeo, especially in a small town like Blackfoot Falls. So why in the hell had he suggested meeting his friend Matt here?

Somehow Ethan had gotten the dumb idea that this rodeo would be different. No prize money was involved or qualifying points. The event was a fund-raiser for Safe Haven, a large animal sanctuary, so all the ticket and concession money went directly to them. But he should’ve known better. Rodeo fans were a loyal bunch, and having to travel to this remote Montana town obviously hadn’t bothered them.

Normally he was up for signing autographs and getting hit on by hot women. But with the finals a week away he’d been on edge since he hit Montana late this morning. After that bogus arrest in Wyoming and then hearing how fellow bull rider Tommy Lunt had busted his knee, foreboding had prickled the back of his neck.

He’d missed the finals himself because of injuries. Twice. Last year broken ribs and a punctured lung had sidelined him. Two seasons before that, it had been an elbow injury. So he had cause to be jumpy.

“Hey, Styles, ’bout time you showed up.” Kenny Horton stood at the bar with another bronc rider and three women, who all turned to eyeball Ethan.

He shook his head when Kenny motioned for him to join them. “Maybe later. I’m meeting someone.”

“Right behind you.”

At the sound of Matt Gunderson’s voice, Ethan grinned and turned around to shake his hand. “Glad to see you, buddy.”

“Same here. What’s it been...a year?”

“About that.” Ethan moved aside for a short, curvy blonde who’d just entered the bar. Their gazes met briefly, surprise flickering in her brown eyes. But then she brushed past him. “So, how’s retirement?” he asked Matt and shifted so he could watch the blonde walk up to the bar.

The seats were all taken. A cowboy jumped to his feet and offered her his stool. Shaking her head, she dug into her pocket. Her tight jeans didn’t leave room for much, but she managed to pull out a cell phone. She wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. He always checked, though it hadn’t done him any good last week.

Wendy hadn’t been wearing one when he met her at the Ponderosa Saloon last Saturday, or when she invited him to her ranch that night. That hadn’t made her any less married, and to a mean, rich son of a bitch on top of everything.

“Retirement? Shit, I work twice as hard for half the money,” Matt said with a laugh. “But yeah, it was time.”

That part Ethan didn’t understand. Matt had been the one to beat. Yet out of the blue he’d just quit competing. Talk around the tour was that his new wife might’ve had something to do with it. “So, no regrets?”

“Not a one.” Matt frowned. “You can’t be thinking of getting out—”

“Hell no. Now that you’re off the circuit, maybe I can finally win another title.”

“Right.” Matt laughed. “I seem to remember you leaving me in the dust more than a few times.”

“Never when it counted.”

“Man, you’ve had some bad luck right before the finals. I should’ve convinced you to drop out when we changed the date. You’re the main draw this weekend. A lot of people are coming to see you ride Twister, but I should’ve thought this through.”

“Come on, you probably figured I wouldn’t make it to the finals.”

Matt reared his head back, eyes narrowed. “What the hell’s the matter with you, Styles?”

Ethan grinned. “Just joking.” No way he’d admit that he had considered bailing because he couldn’t risk injury. But then he’d only be superstitious about bad karma or some other bullshit. “It’s a worthy cause. I’m glad to do it.”

Just before Ethan turned to check on the blonde, he caught his friend’s sympathetic look. Most rodeo cowboys started young and came from families of die-hard fans. Matt had been a casual fan who’d climbed onto his first bull at a late age, and yet he understood the pressure coming at Ethan from all sides. Winning another gold buckle wasn’t just about ego or satisfying a lifelong dream. He came from rodeo royalty. Both his parents held multiple world champion titles. Most of their fans were also his fans. A lot of expectations drove him to succeed.

The woman was still standing at the bar, guys on either side of her vying for her attention, but she didn’t seem interested. She slowly sipped a drink, checked her phone and then leaned over the bar to talk to the older woman filling pitchers of beer.

Ethan smirked to himself. Bending over like that sure wouldn’t discourage guys from hitting on her. She knew how to wear a pair of plain faded jeans. Her boots were brown, low-heeled, scuffed. And the long-sleeve blue T-shirt was nothing fancy. No, she sure wasn’t dressed to be noticed like the other women circling the room. Maybe she lived on a nearby ranch and had just quit work.

Damn, she was hot.

And familiar. Yeah, women were plentiful for a bull rider, and he was no saint. He also wasn’t the type to forget a name or face. It sure felt as though he’d run into her before. More than that, he felt this odd pull... The kind of pull that could get him into trouble. Which he did not need, especially not now.

Someone called out to Matt and he waved in acknowledgment. “We’re not gonna find a table or a place at the bar. Maybe we should head over to the diner. Unless you’re looking to hook up with that blonde.”

“What blonde?” Ethan asked, and Matt smiled. “That describes half the women in here.”

“I’m talking about the one at the bar you’ve been eyeing.”

“Nah, I’m not looking for company. I’m keeping my nose clean until the finals.”

“A whole week? You’ll never make it.”

“Probably not.” Ethan laughed and glanced back at the bar. “Is she local?”

Matt studied her for a moment. “I don’t think so.”

“Well, I’ll be damned if it isn’t the twins,” a voice boomed from the back room.

Ethan and Matt exchanged glances. They both knew it was Tex, a bronc rider from Dallas. Though he wasn’t the only one who called them the twins. They’d joined the pro tour within months of each other, and in the beginning they’d often been mistaken for brothers. Ethan figured it wasn’t so much because they shared similar builds, or even because they both had light brown hair and blue eyes. It was their height. Six feet was tall for a bull rider.

“What are you boys doing standing there talking like two old women?” Tex yelled, a pool stick in one hand, an empty mug in the other. “Grab yourselves a pitcher and get on back here.”

“Guess he’s had a few,” Ethan said. Tex was quiet by nature. But after a couple of beers...

“He’d better be able to ride tomorrow,” Matt muttered, then turned when someone else shouted his name.

More people had poured into the bar. Ethan was willing to bet the place had reached capacity before the last ten customers had squeezed inside. And now that big-mouthed Tex had called attention to them, fans were approaching him and Matt for autographs.

They each accepted a pen and began scrawling their names. “You check in at The Boarding House yet?” Matt asked under his breath.

“An hour ago.”

“It’s not too late. You can stay out at the Lone Wolf. We’ve got a big house, trailer hookups. The inn’s overbooked, so the owner won’t have any trouble renting out your room. And my wife’s dying to meet you.”

“Hey, that’s right. You’re a married man now. Sorry I missed your wedding.”

“No problem. I warned Rachel there’d be conflicts no matter which weekend she chose.”

Ethan smiled as he passed the Safe Haven flyer he’d just signed to a middle-aged woman wearing a promotional Professional Bull Riders T-shirt from the 2010 finals, the year he wanted wiped from his memory forever. To be kept from the finals because of an injury was one thing, but to make it that far and then get hurt in the third round? Talk about fate landing a sucker punch.

This year nothing was going to keep him from the finals. Or from winning another gold buckle.

Nothing. Period.