sure you’re staying out of trouble?” Jim bent over to snag his jeans, flashing his back and the tattoo of the motorcycle club he’d escaped. He pulled on his pants.
“The club ain’t what it used to be, J.T.”
Scarlett asked, “J.T.?”
“My initials, James Thomas, my nickname from the old days.” Jim pointed at his brother. “How long have you been here? Did you hear Rusty’s dead?”
Dax’s head snapped up. “Are you kidding me?”
“Someone offed him two days ago. Stabbed him and left him for dead. Tried to pin it on me.”
Dax’s dark eyes narrowed and he stroked his goatee. “You’re serious.”
“I’m serious. The killer used one of Slick’s hunting knives—stole it from the garage.”
“The SOB didn’t touch the bikes, did he?”
“Didn’t touch the bikes.” Jim hooked his thumbs in his front pockets, and his unbuttoned jeans dipped lower. “And I saw Chewy in town. What is this, some kinda Lords reunion?”
“Chewy, huh?” Dax pushed his long hair out of his face. “Are you going to introduce me to your friend, or just stand here and give me the third degree?”
“This is Scarlett Easton. Scarlett, my brother, Dax Kennedy.”
Scarlett poked her hand from the blanket and waved.
“Scarlett? You’re that pretty little Indian girl from J.T.’s class.”
Jim rolled his eyes.
Scarlett stuck two fingers behind her head and wiggled them. “That’s me...the little Indian girl.”
Dax threw back his head and barked out a laugh. “I like you. I like her, J.T. She your woman?”
She wished .
“I live up the road, and someone set fire to the trees around my property tonight. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”
“Me? What the hell has this guy been telling you about his older brother? Why would I want to set fire to your place? And what the hell is going on around here? Murders, fires, setups.”
Jim folded his arms and widened his stance. “You never answered my question. What brings you back to Timberline?”
“You. Heard you were back.”
“Who told you that?”
“Does it matter? Thought we could settle some of the old man’s stuff.” He held up his hands. “You can have the cabin, but I might want a couple of those bikes.”
“I don’t have a problem with that. You plan to stay here? In this cabin?”
“Bro, I’ve been riding all night. I need a place to crash.”
Scarlett hopped up from the chair. “Dax, you take the couch. Jim, you can have your bed back. I mean, uh, share it with me.”
Winking, Dax slapped Jim on the back. “Sounds like a good deal for you, J.T.”
Jim shot her a glance. “I don’t want... If you...”
“I’m fine with it.” She shrugged out of the blanket and dropped it back on the couch. “Now I really need to get a few hours of sleep.”
She left the two brothers talking in low voices and crawled beneath the covers, keeping to one side of the king-size bed. When life gave you lemons, make the whole dang lemon meringue pie and stuff your face.
Jim tapped on the door. “Scarlett?”
“C’mon in.”
He slipped into the room and clicked the door behind him. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”
“Your brother’s a pretty rough character. Honestly, I figured I’d feel safer with you in here, anyway.”
“Dax? Yeah, he has his issues, but harassing women isn’t one of them.” Jim sat on the edge of the bed and fell back onto his side, his feet still planted on the floor.
“Whoa, mister.” She placed her hands on his back and gave him a shove.
“Change your mind already?”
“You’re not climbing into this bed wearing those jeans. They still smell like smoke.”
He got off the bed and, with his back turned to her, he yanked off his pants. He turned back the covers and slipped in beside her. “Good night, Scarlett.”
Poking his shoulder, she asked, “Are you going to find out what Dax is doing here? He didn’t exactly give you a straight answer.”
“Dax isn’t too good
“The club ain’t what it used to be, J.T.”
Scarlett asked, “J.T.?”
“My initials, James Thomas, my nickname from the old days.” Jim pointed at his brother. “How long have you been here? Did you hear Rusty’s dead?”
Dax’s head snapped up. “Are you kidding me?”
“Someone offed him two days ago. Stabbed him and left him for dead. Tried to pin it on me.”
Dax’s dark eyes narrowed and he stroked his goatee. “You’re serious.”
“I’m serious. The killer used one of Slick’s hunting knives—stole it from the garage.”
“The SOB didn’t touch the bikes, did he?”
“Didn’t touch the bikes.” Jim hooked his thumbs in his front pockets, and his unbuttoned jeans dipped lower. “And I saw Chewy in town. What is this, some kinda Lords reunion?”
“Chewy, huh?” Dax pushed his long hair out of his face. “Are you going to introduce me to your friend, or just stand here and give me the third degree?”
“This is Scarlett Easton. Scarlett, my brother, Dax Kennedy.”
Scarlett poked her hand from the blanket and waved.
“Scarlett? You’re that pretty little Indian girl from J.T.’s class.”
Jim rolled his eyes.
Scarlett stuck two fingers behind her head and wiggled them. “That’s me...the little Indian girl.”
Dax threw back his head and barked out a laugh. “I like you. I like her, J.T. She your woman?”
She wished .
“I live up the road, and someone set fire to the trees around my property tonight. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”
“Me? What the hell has this guy been telling you about his older brother? Why would I want to set fire to your place? And what the hell is going on around here? Murders, fires, setups.”
Jim folded his arms and widened his stance. “You never answered my question. What brings you back to Timberline?”
“You. Heard you were back.”
“Who told you that?”
“Does it matter? Thought we could settle some of the old man’s stuff.” He held up his hands. “You can have the cabin, but I might want a couple of those bikes.”
“I don’t have a problem with that. You plan to stay here? In this cabin?”
“Bro, I’ve been riding all night. I need a place to crash.”
Scarlett hopped up from the chair. “Dax, you take the couch. Jim, you can have your bed back. I mean, uh, share it with me.”
Winking, Dax slapped Jim on the back. “Sounds like a good deal for you, J.T.”
Jim shot her a glance. “I don’t want... If you...”
“I’m fine with it.” She shrugged out of the blanket and dropped it back on the couch. “Now I really need to get a few hours of sleep.”
She left the two brothers talking in low voices and crawled beneath the covers, keeping to one side of the king-size bed. When life gave you lemons, make the whole dang lemon meringue pie and stuff your face.
Jim tapped on the door. “Scarlett?”
“C’mon in.”
He slipped into the room and clicked the door behind him. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”
“Your brother’s a pretty rough character. Honestly, I figured I’d feel safer with you in here, anyway.”
“Dax? Yeah, he has his issues, but harassing women isn’t one of them.” Jim sat on the edge of the bed and fell back onto his side, his feet still planted on the floor.
“Whoa, mister.” She placed her hands on his back and gave him a shove.
“Change your mind already?”
“You’re not climbing into this bed wearing those jeans. They still smell like smoke.”
He got off the bed and, with his back turned to her, he yanked off his pants. He turned back the covers and slipped in beside her. “Good night, Scarlett.”
Poking his shoulder, she asked, “Are you going to find out what Dax is doing here? He didn’t exactly give you a straight answer.”
“Dax isn’t too good
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