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Jessie Kay scanned the spacious room. “Anyone seen my shorts?”
A pair of cutoffs and a tank were wadded up next to Brook Lynn’s feet. She picked up both and tossed them at her sister. “Well? Aren’t you going to apologize for missing five hours of work?”
“Uh, why would I apologize?” Jessie Kay tugged on the shirt. “I’m not sorry. Besides, I barely had any customers.”
“All of your tables were full with changeovers every hour. Meaning I had to hustle—without a break—to meet the demands of your customers as well as mine. Which was impossible! I made mistakes and lost tips.” A single penny counted when you had so few.
“I’ll make it up to you, swear,” Jessie Kay said, shimmying into the shorts while still under the covers. “Don’t worry.”
Another spark of anger burned through Brook Lynn. “Have you come into a secret inheritance, or will I be forced to dig into my savings yet again to pay your share of rent and utilities?”
“Hey! I’m totally keeping track of every cent I owe you. I’m going to pay you back.”
It may be too late then, she wanted to scream. Her future happiness had a time limit. Edna, the owner of Rhinestone Cowgirl, had given her until the end of the year to come up with the money to buy the place.
Brook Lynn might not be passionate about her creations, but owning that little jewelry shop was her only viable road to success. And that she wanted with every fiber of her being. She had already begun to make plans. She would pay to have a webpage created and sell her jewelry to people all over the state of Oklahoma, not just to the residents of Strawberry Valley and the seasonal flood of tourists. She would finally stop living day by day and actually live for tomorrow.
Her sister stood and patted her on top of the head. “Hate to break it to you, little sis, but your jewelry store is just about as useless as a cow squirting water.”
Useless?
Useless!
“I just don’t want you unhappy,” Jessie Kay added, throwing fuel on the fire.
The burn of simmering anger became a bomb of rage, exploding inside her. Unhappy? Unhappy! What did her sister think she was now?
“Well, maybe I don’t want you to end up like Uncle Kurt,” Brook Lynn gritted out.
Jessie Kay gasped. “Dude. That’s so harsh.”
Most definitely.
Years ago, one of the massive machines at a nearby dairy farm exploded, killing half the workforce. Many Strawberry Valley residents were employed there, including their dad. He had been pronounced dead at the scene.
Their mother had done her rock-solid best to raise them, but occasionally she’d been so desperate for help she’d called her con-artist brother. And when she later drowned—God rest her precious soul—Uncle Kurt, their only remaining family, had moved to Strawberry Valley “for good” to care for them. Brook Lynn had been fifteen at the time and Jessie Kay seventeen, and though they’d been old enough to see to their own needs, they’d still required a legal guardian. But Kurt had stayed only long enough to collect the life insurance.
Jessie Kay gave her a little push, snapping her back into focus. “I’m nothing like that dirtbag. You take that back.”
“Never!” Brook Lynn returned the push. She only ever resorted to physical violence with Jessie Kay.
Her sister slapped her shoulder.
Brook Lynn delivered a slap of her own. “I’m fixing to start counting, Jessica Kay.”
“One,” her sister mocked, knowing her ways better than anyone.
“Two, three.” Forget battling with words. With a screech, Brook Lynn launched forward, crashing into Jessie Kay. They fell into the mattress and bounced to the floor, where they rolled around in a struggle for dominance. When they bumped into the nightstand, the lamp teetered...tumbled down and shattered. The damage barely registered as they continued to wrestle. Brook Lynn managed to come out on top and pin her sister’s shoulders with her knees. She forced the girl to slap her own face.
“Why are you hitting yourself, Jessie Kay? Huh? Huh? Why?”
Her sister twisted left and right, trying to dodge the blows.
Warm breath fanned the crown of Brook Lynn’s head as strong arms banded around her, and a masculine scent saturated her awareness. Jase.
“Let me go,” she demanded. “Let me go right now.”
His hold only tightened. He hefted her over his shoulder fireman-style and strode out of the room.
CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_4174006c-5963-5020-9e07-aeaa646d070a)
JASON—JASE—HOLLISTER carted the petite bundle of fury into the backyard. She fought him every step of the way, the little wildcat, but he held on as if she were a well-deserved war prize. The party guests watched with wide grins, enjoying the show. A few even followed him, no doubt curious to see how the scene would play out.
He resented their presence, actually hated that they were here. Truth be told, he liked to keep his two friends close and everyone else at a distance. His head wasn’t screwed on right on the best of days, and today wasn’t the best of days. He hadn’t had a best day in a long time.
Behind him, the firecracker he’d just slept with shouted, “Put my sister down this instant, you overgrown Neanderthal!”
If he hadn’t already regretted sleeping with Jessie Kay before Wildcat had stormed into his bedroom—she was also known as Brook Lynn, apparently—he would have regretted it now. Before moving to Strawberry Valley a few weeks ago, he’d decided to end his sexual bender. A five-month carnal odyssey, Beck had called it, not quite realizing how right he was. It was an odyssey. Straight into hell. Jase had expected pleasure, maybe a little fun, but he’d had trouble relaxing around the women, and it had made for bad sex, great guilt and even worse memories.
Tonight had been more of the same, another regret to add to his ever-growing list. He’d had trouble focusing, constantly on alert for a sneak attack.
The nine-year habit would be hard to shake.
Besides, the move here was supposed to be his fresh start in a place that represented everything he’d never had but had always craved. Roots, permanence. Peace. Wide-open spaces and community support. A clean canvas he’d hoped to keep clean, not mar by creating a perfect storm of drama, pitting two sisters against each other.
Too late.
Though he’d had no desire to shit where he ate, so to speak, and mess everything up with a scorned lover, he’d had a few beers too many tonight, and Jessie Kay had crawled into his lap, asked if she could welcome him to town properly, and that had been that.
At least he’d had the presence of mind to make it clear there would be no repeat performances, no blooming relationship. He’d earned his freedom the hard way—and he would do anything to keep it.
Women never stuck around for the long haul anyway. His mother sure hadn’t. Countless foster moms hadn’t. Hell, even the love of his life hadn’t. Daphne had taken off without ever looking back.
Light from the porch lamps cast a golden glow over the swimming pool, illuminating the couple who’d decided to skinny-dip. They, like everyone else within a ten-mile radius, heard the commotion; they scrambled into a shadowed corner.
“Pay attention, honey,” Jase said to Brook Lynn. “This isn’t a lesson you’ll want to learn twice. You throw a tantrum in my room, you get wet.” Jase tossed the little wildcat into the deep end, hoping to calm her down.
Jessie Kay beat at his arm, screeching, “Idiot! Her implants aren’t supposed to be waterlogged. She’s supposed to cover them with a special adhesive.”
Please. “Implants are always better wet.” He should know. He’d handled his fair share.
“They aren’t in her boobs, you moron. They’re in her ears!”
Well, hell. I’m on silent, she’d said, the words suddenly making sense. “Way to bury the lead,” he muttered.
Brook Lynn came up sputtering. She swam to the edge of the pool and climbed out with her sister’s help, then arranged her hair over her ears before glaring up at him, reminding him of an avenging angel.
He’d hoped the impromptu dunk would lessen her appeal.
He’d hoped in vain.
Water droplets trickled down flawless skin the color of melted honey. The plain white button-up and black slacks she wore clung to her body, revealing a breathtakingly erotic frame, legs that were somehow a mile long, breasts that were a perfect handful...and nipples that were hard.
Those traits, in themselves, would have been dangerous for any man’s peace of mind. But when you paired that miracle body with that angel face—huge baby blues and heart-shaped lips no emissary from heaven should ever be allowed to have—it was almost overkill.
Damn, I picked the wrong sister.
Well, what was done was done. Another piece of broken glass in his conscience. Another memory to leave a sticky film on his soul, like a spider determined to catch flies.
“I’m sorry about your hearing aids, or whatever they are,” he said, “but catfights aren’t allowed in my room. You should save all disputes for the next JELL-O Fight Night.”
She watched his lips. Her eyes narrowed, an indication she’d understood him.
Without looking away from him, she said, “Jessie Kay, get in the car. If I have to start counting again, you’ll regret it.”
For the first time that evening, her sister heeded her command and took off as though her feet were on fire.
West and Beck arrived a second later and scoped out the scene: a gorgeous woman who was soaking wet, probably chilled, stood as still as a statue, her hands fisted at her sides, while Jase couldn’t seem to look away from her.
“What the hell happened?” Beck demanded, running a hand through his hair.
“This is between him and me.” Brook Lynn pointed to Jase. “You guys go inside.”
“Your hand is bleeding.” West frowned and reached for her.
“I’m not your concern.” She stepped away, avoiding contact, and would have toppled back into the pool if Jase hadn’t caught her arm.
With her sex-kitten curves, he was surprised by the slenderness of her bones. Even more shocked by the soft silk of her skin, the warmer-than-melted-honey temperature. She wasn’t chilled, after all, and the longer he held on, the more electric the contact proved to be, somehow cracking through the armor he’d spent years erecting around his emotions, until he practically vibrated with the desire to touch all of her...to hold her...
To devour.
What the hell?
He released her with a jolt and widened the distance between them. His inner armor wasn’t something he maintained just for grins and giggles. It was for survival. As a boy abandoned by his parents and sometimes mistreated by fosters, he’d learned emotions were a weakness that could be used against him. To feel something for a person or object meant he’d placed value on it—whether for good or ill.
Feel nothing. Want nothing. Need nothing. For the most part, the motto had served him well. There had been times the armor vanished, the darkest of emotions consuming him...pushing him to do things he shouldn’t. Trouble had always followed.
Brook Lynn peered down at her wrist, as if she’d felt something she couldn’t explain, before focusing on him, her eyes narrowing once again.
To Beck and West, who’d remained after her command to leave, Jase said, “Get everyone inside. I’ll handle her.”
The two glanced between him and the girl, and he knew they wanted to protest. Tension thrummed from them both. But then, tension always thrummed from them both. They loved him, but when they looked at him, they only saw him through the dark-tinted glasses of a shared past, a trip they’d taken together through hell. Their guilt and shame always radiated below the surface.
They blamed themselves for the worst years of Jase’s life, a time he would have been far better off dead. It was the reason West had once battled a drug addiction, and Beck still refused to connect with anyone for more than an hour, maybe two if the girl was good. Whether they admitted it or not, they wanted to make themselves suffer the way Jase had suffered. The way he sometimes suffered still.
“Get everyone inside,” he repeated. The gossip vine in this town worked faster than a cable modem, and he had no desire to be the topic du jour. He guarded his privacy the way other people guarded their most valued treasures. Maybe because he had a lot more to hide.
Really, in today’s digital world, there was no such thing as a secret, and the citizens of Strawberry Valley would learn about him soon enough. He just hoped they didn’t attempt to run him off with pitchforks and torches.
“Now,” he added.
This time his friends obeyed. Once the backyard had been cleared, however, they returned to his side.
West offered Brook Lynn a towel. She failed to notice, her attention somewhere in the distance, where tall oaks and blooming magnolias stretched across the acreage. The wild strawberries growing along the forest floor were his favorite part of the property, vivid red fruit that sprang from flowers of the whitest white, with sunshine-yellow centers. A landscape more beautiful than anything he’d ever thought possible.
“Brook Lynn,” he said, but still she paid him no heed. Were her hearing aids ruined?
Guilt pricked at him.
West tapped her on the shoulder, and she yelped. When she noticed the towel, she accepted with a quiet “Thanks.”
“You guys head inside, too, like she said.” Jase hiked his thumb toward the house.
West put his back to Brook Lynn and said softly to Jase, “Tell me you’re not thinking what I think you’re thinking.”
What? That the girl looked good—and would look even better in his arms? Too late. Just as quietly, just in case, he replied, “I’m not going to try anything with her.”
Beck gave Brook Lynn his back, as well. “Jase, you just threw her in the pool. I’d say your chances of anything but a catfight are slim. The only thing left to do is finesse the situation, and that just happens to be my forte.”
Allow Beck to finesse the delicate beauty? A bead of anger rolled through Jase, surprising him. He’d never directed his temper at his friends. The night’s activities must have screwed with his head more than usual.
“Besides,” West added, “you can’t afford trouble.”
No, he couldn’t. He’d endured his fair share already.
“What if she decides to file a complaint with the sheriff?” Beck’s gaze was grim.
Panic prickled the back of Jase’s neck.
“Whatever you guys are saying about me, stop. If you’ll figure out the cost for repairs,” Brook Lynn said, nudging West and Beck aside to peer up at Jase, “I’ll reimburse you for the lamp and nightstand.”
After what he’d done, she thought she owed him? And get serious. As if there was any way in hell he would ever take her money. He’d heard her argument with her sister, knew the two were barely scraping by.
“Go.” He gave his friends a push toward the door. They reluctantly returned to the party, not because they thought it was the right thing to do, but because they felt they owed him. “I ruined your hearing aids, honey. How about we call it even?”
Her hands immediately went to her ears. To ensure her hair was still in place, hiding them?
The self-conscious action did something to his chest. Made it hurt.
“How about we don’t,” she said.
He ignored her, saying, “Your hand might need to be stitched.” Fat drops of crimson trickled from the cuts the lamp shards had caused.
Her chin lifted another notch. “I’ll be fine.”
“At least let me get you a bandage.”
She watched his lips, took a moment to decipher his words and shook her head. “No, thanks.”
