Chapter One
“This cann ot be happening. Not three years in a row.” Audra Wethington wanted to crawl in a hole somewhere and just die. Either that or pull out the biggest baseball bat she could find and knock some sense into the three men currently beating the hell out of one another. Life used to be so simple.
“Well, look at it this way,” suggested Dedra Gooden, her best friend and owner of the bar the guys were currently trashing. “How many women can honestly say they have three guys after them on Valentine’s Day? I mean, seriously. They’re all totally into you.”
Audra gave her friend a “you’ve- got -to-be-kidding” look before grabbing her purse. “I’m outta here. Want me to call the cops for you?”
“Na,” Dedra said as she hefted a shotgun from behind the bar. “I got this covered.” As if this kind of thing happened every day, Dedra aimed the gun at the ceiling and pulled the trigger. The roar was deafening, and debris rained down on the scattering crowd, but it had the desired effect. “Just so you guys know, I’ve got a running tab on each of you and I will collect enough money to pay for damages. Including the hole in the ceiling. Do we understand each other?”
“Ah, hell, Dedra ,” the tall, skinny man with a huge Stetson hat whined. He’d been the first man Audra had danced with that night. “Cut a guy a break. It wasn’t even me or Jed’s fault.” Audra wanted to crumple into a heap in the corner in humiliation. “It was Nelson over there. Jed was just takin ’ a dance with the lady when the bastard came out of nowhere.”
The “bastard” in question took a menacing step forward, apparently taking objection to the term “bastard” being applied to him. Audra had danced with Trent Nelson next, then Jed. Trent hadn’t been too partial to her dancing with anyone else. Had Audra been any kind of a nice girl, she’d have been completely horrified, mortified, and all kinds of other “ fieds .” But Trent Nelson had been her secret obsession for most of her adult life. Sure, he’d had a few beers, but the possessive way he’d swept her into his arms had thrilled her to her toes.
“Call me a bastard one more time, Frank...” Trent loomed over the much smaller man. His large, muscular frame easily twice the size of Frank’s lean form.
As expected, Frank shrank back from Trent, quickly putting the table and several bystanders between him and a pissed-off-looking cowboy. It might have been comical if not for the shotgun-wielding Dedra lowering her gun ever so slightly, ready to defend her property with deadly force. She might act nonchalant, but everyone in the bar knew she meant business.
“That’ll do, you guys.” She jerked her head toward the door, indicating they should leave. Frank and Jed cut a cold trail, not looking back to see if anyone followed. Obviously, they just wanted out of there.
Trent was another story. His eyes met Audra’s across the bar and pinned her. Audra had the thrilling sensation of being stalked, absurd as it was. The man wasn’t used to being challenged, and he’d obviously taken her dancing with other men as a challenge.
He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. Snapping a credit card on the counter, he glanced at Dedra . “Put it on my tab, Dee. I’ll take care of it all.”
“ You going to start any more trouble?” The question and Dedra’s tone of voice were mild enough, but the deadly glint in her eyes told Audra Trent Nelson was walking on thin ice. The look in Trent’s eyes as he glanced back at Dedra told Audra he didn’t give a damn.
“I don’t plan on it.”
Dedra snorted, but put the double-barreled shotgun away. “You never do.”
He sat next to Audra at the bar, never taking his eyes from her. “Can I buy you a drink?”
“I was just leaving,” she said primly, reaching for her purse and pulling out her keys. “You’ve managed to give me a roaring headache.”
He caught
“This cann ot be happening. Not three years in a row.” Audra Wethington wanted to crawl in a hole somewhere and just die. Either that or pull out the biggest baseball bat she could find and knock some sense into the three men currently beating the hell out of one another. Life used to be so simple.
“Well, look at it this way,” suggested Dedra Gooden, her best friend and owner of the bar the guys were currently trashing. “How many women can honestly say they have three guys after them on Valentine’s Day? I mean, seriously. They’re all totally into you.”
Audra gave her friend a “you’ve- got -to-be-kidding” look before grabbing her purse. “I’m outta here. Want me to call the cops for you?”
“Na,” Dedra said as she hefted a shotgun from behind the bar. “I got this covered.” As if this kind of thing happened every day, Dedra aimed the gun at the ceiling and pulled the trigger. The roar was deafening, and debris rained down on the scattering crowd, but it had the desired effect. “Just so you guys know, I’ve got a running tab on each of you and I will collect enough money to pay for damages. Including the hole in the ceiling. Do we understand each other?”
“Ah, hell, Dedra ,” the tall, skinny man with a huge Stetson hat whined. He’d been the first man Audra had danced with that night. “Cut a guy a break. It wasn’t even me or Jed’s fault.” Audra wanted to crumple into a heap in the corner in humiliation. “It was Nelson over there. Jed was just takin ’ a dance with the lady when the bastard came out of nowhere.”
The “bastard” in question took a menacing step forward, apparently taking objection to the term “bastard” being applied to him. Audra had danced with Trent Nelson next, then Jed. Trent hadn’t been too partial to her dancing with anyone else. Had Audra been any kind of a nice girl, she’d have been completely horrified, mortified, and all kinds of other “ fieds .” But Trent Nelson had been her secret obsession for most of her adult life. Sure, he’d had a few beers, but the possessive way he’d swept her into his arms had thrilled her to her toes.
“Call me a bastard one more time, Frank...” Trent loomed over the much smaller man. His large, muscular frame easily twice the size of Frank’s lean form.
As expected, Frank shrank back from Trent, quickly putting the table and several bystanders between him and a pissed-off-looking cowboy. It might have been comical if not for the shotgun-wielding Dedra lowering her gun ever so slightly, ready to defend her property with deadly force. She might act nonchalant, but everyone in the bar knew she meant business.
“That’ll do, you guys.” She jerked her head toward the door, indicating they should leave. Frank and Jed cut a cold trail, not looking back to see if anyone followed. Obviously, they just wanted out of there.
Trent was another story. His eyes met Audra’s across the bar and pinned her. Audra had the thrilling sensation of being stalked, absurd as it was. The man wasn’t used to being challenged, and he’d obviously taken her dancing with other men as a challenge.
He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. Snapping a credit card on the counter, he glanced at Dedra . “Put it on my tab, Dee. I’ll take care of it all.”
“ You going to start any more trouble?” The question and Dedra’s tone of voice were mild enough, but the deadly glint in her eyes told Audra Trent Nelson was walking on thin ice. The look in Trent’s eyes as he glanced back at Dedra told Audra he didn’t give a damn.
“I don’t plan on it.”
Dedra snorted, but put the double-barreled shotgun away. “You never do.”
He sat next to Audra at the bar, never taking his eyes from her. “Can I buy you a drink?”
“I was just leaving,” she said primly, reaching for her purse and pulling out her keys. “You’ve managed to give me a roaring headache.”
He caught
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