Читать книгу A Little Texas - Liz Talley - Страница 11

KATE HADN’T GOTTEN MUCH SLEEP. Mostly because she’d stayed up late listening to Nellie lecture her. Eventually she’d fallen into a fitful, shadowy sleep. When she’d woken this morning, her head pounded and she could barely swallow. A suspicious substance dripped from her nose. The pine trees of East Texas had done their job. Her allergies were going haywire.

Even so, she’d staggered from Nellie’s guest bedroom, managed a long shower, and pulled on a tight sweaterdress with black kick-ass Tory Burch boots. Of course, her slightly red nose didn’t match the violet minidress, but at least it was in color range.

The kitchen was empty. Kate made herself at home, grabbing a cup of black coffee and a Pop-Tart. After three bites of the pastry, she remembered why she never bought them—they tasted like flavored cardboard. Her half-eaten breakfast hit the trash can just as the doorbell sounded.

Rick had not forgotten. Damn.

She took another sip of coffee with an unsteady hand. She’d once read an Emily Dickinson poem in college where Death had politely rung the doorbell. When answered, Death had taken the dude on a trip that ended at the cemetery. This felt a little like that.

The doorbell sounded again.

“I’ve got it,” Kate called out, forcing herself to move. She didn’t want Nellie to answer. Almost always reserved, Nellie left the outlandishness to Kate, but if and when Nellie got her dander up, there was no subtlety about it. And last night, Nellie had been as mad as Kate had ever seen her. She wasn’t sure if the fury was at her, Justus or Rick.

Kate threw the door open, and Rick jumped back before giving her a quasi grin. “Good morning, cupcake.”

She snorted. “I’ve been called lots of names before, but never cupcake. Come in. I’ll grab my purse and gun.”

“Bring plenty of ammunition. His wheelchair is motorized and he’s pretty fast in it.”

“I have a whole box,” she said as she turned toward the kitchen where she’d left her purse. Nellie hadn’t appeared. Thank the Lord. She figured her friend didn’t trust herself not to lash out at Rick for carrying out Justus’s heinous mission. Kate hadn’t been able to reason with her over this whole fiasco. And it was a fiasco, but Nellie didn’t seem to understand Kate had asked for this when she’d written that damn letter. Nor did she understand why Kate hadn’t come to her for the money.

Kate had thought Nellie would get why she hadn’t made that call. Everyone in Oak Stand knew Kate and her grandmother had lived off donations and cast-off clothing, and everyone knew Kate was embarrassed by that fact. Kate had never asked Nellie for anything. Ever. No matter how desperate she felt, it was an unwritten code they never talked about. Another elephant in the room of Kate’s life, one that had so many pachyderms in it, it was a wonder she had air left to breathe.

Kate wouldn’t take charity. Not from a friend.

But she would take Justus’s hush money.

She scooped up her purse and checked herself in the den mirror. She looked good for someone who had a raging sinus headache. She’d made up her eyes a little too heavily, but the blue streaks in her hair balanced the look. She’d finger-combed her hair into a straight edgy look and added dangly hoop earrings. The outfit was cutting-edge fashion. Overall, she looked like Justus’s worst nightmare—something like Posh Spice meets Reno prostitute.

She sauntered to the foyer where Rick studied a collage of Mae. The whole damned house was Ode to Mae. Nellie must have taken a picture of the baby every single day of her fifteen months of life.

“She’s a cute kid,” Rick said as he turned to her. His gaze swept her length, lingering on the high points. Namely her small breasts. She hadn’t worn a bra because she didn’t really need one. She felt her nipples harden under his perusal. The friction of the sweater dress only served to incite the heat in the pit of her stomach.

Rick Mendez was a nice piece of work. He’d look good on her, no doubt.

“Yeah, she is,” Kate said, crossing her arms over her chest. “But they could give the camera a rest. Jeez.”

“Ready to go?” Rick stepped back to let her pass through the door he’d left open. The last day in January felt cool and rain-soaked.

“Yeah. You have the blindfold ready?” She shrugged into her coat and tugged the ties.

“Blindfold?”

“For the firing squad.”

He narrowed his eyes. They were nice eyes. Chocolaty-brown, but forceful all the same. Like they’d seen and endured much.

She shot him a brave smile and trotted down the steps toward the ’66 convertible Mustang parked in the curved drive. The car was salsa-red with a white top. A muscle car to match the intensity of the man walking behind her.

“I carry the blindfolds in my glove box,” Rick said, following her to the passenger door. He pushed a key into the lock, pulled the door open for her, then walked around to slip into the car beside her. His shoulder brushed hers as he pulled the modified seat belt over his chest and she got a whiff of him. He smelled clean. His short hair looked damp, as though he’d climbed from the shower only moments ago.

“So you are into kinky stuff. Nice.”

For a moment, the air ignited. Heat came off Rick in waves. He wanted her. She knew that. But what would he do about it?

“Damn straight,” he said, his accent low and dangerous. Kate’s stomach prickled. “But they’re only for the really bad girls. You’re not a bad girl, are you, Kate?”

Kate snorted. “I think you know the answer to that.”

His response was to rev the engine. But he wore a smile.

COTTONWOOD LOOMED IN FRONT of them like the dream of a nine-year-old girl. Its stately columns and fanciful curved front steps ignited visions of hooped dresses and shiny carriages. Kate had stood outside the gates before, peering through the cold bars where an intricate M was carved. She’d dreamed of walking down those stairs, lifting the edge of her wedding gown and stepping into a limousine.

Once she’d imagined herself crossing the trimmed lawn to her smiling father. Imagined him lifting her veil and giving her a gentle kiss. It was a kid’s dream. Utter make-believe.

She glanced at Rick as they approached the house. Even he seemed tense. His shoulders were bunched beneath the same jacket he’d worn yesterday and his jaw looked set. Rock hard. That image of Rick was both titillating and off-putting.

“Honey, I’m home.” Her voice sounded on edge to her own ears.

Rick glanced at her.

She gave him a shaky smile. “Too soon to call it home?”

At this his lips twitched. Something in his smile gave her comfort. She wanted to thank him for that, for offering her some solace in this moment she faced. That comfort shouldn’t have meant anything to her. Justus Mitchell had denied her once—it was entirely conceivable he’d do it again.

She had carried her hatred of him around with her because it had made her who she was. She didn’t take crap from anybody and she lived by her own rules. That was what Justus had given her. That and nothing else. But now she wanted money from him. Money that was way past due.

Rick pulled onto an odd patterned parking area adjacent to the house and cut the engine. “I’ll walk you in, then I’m running over to Phoenix. It’s not far. My grandmother will call me when you’re ready and I’ll pick you up.”

He was leaving her. For some reason, she didn’t want him to. Even though he worked for Justus, he felt like the only guy on her team.

Which was stupid.

He touched her on the shoulder. “Hey.”

She lifted her gaze to his, afraid he might see how much she wanted him to stay. He wasn’t smiling. He looked as intense as the first time she’d met him, but there was a tinge of softness now.

“You’re strong.”

His words wrapped round her, doing as he intended, strengthening her, bolstering the courage she’d felt she’d lost for a moment as they’d driven up the lane.

Kate closed her eyes, then she leaned over and kissed him.

Not a peck, like she was thanking him.

But a full-fledged kiss.