Texas Bad Boys Read online

  “Why would they be going through things?”

  “No reason I can think of, but they might have seen or heard something.”

  “Would you mind asking them? I bet they think I’m nutters after last night.”

  “What happened?” He reached to touch her and stopped himself just in time.

  “Nothing.” She shrugged. “Well, not really. I was down here going through things and saw a face peering through the window. Odd. In the dark it looked framed with wild-looking white hair. I rushed through to the bar and into the kitchen and out the back door but the alley was deserted. Whoever it was ran faster than I could.”

  “And had no business poking around our back alley. I’ve half a mind to mention this to John Snow. He might as well do something to earn the salary the town pays him.”

  “He’s the police?”

  “The sheriff. He can have a look around.”

  “I hate to make a fuss.”

  “If I do the asking it won’t be you fussing. He and I go back a long way.”

  “And he’s used to you fussing?”

  Her grin was verging on wicked and he couldn’t help smiling back. “Let’s say he’ll have a good look and then ask around. Not too much to do for an old buddy who gives him free beer and hamburgers.”

  She nodded agreement. “A good idea. The looking around, I mean.” She frowned at the pile of file folders. “Back to sorting out and, oh”—she looked at him—“I bought a bolt for the bathroom door and a shower curtain.” Her cheeks showed a hint of a blush that deepened as he met her eyes.

  “Good idea. Got them handy? I’ll fix the bolt and hang the shower curtain for you…er, us.” Assuming there were rings anywhere around.

  She shook her head. “Don’t worry. I already have.”

  “What?”

  “I installed the bolt and hung the shower curtain. It’s done. I wanted to be sure there isn’t a repetition of last night.”

  “Good idea! Yes. Sorry about that.” Not really. His nose wasn’t growing at the lie but another part of him was definitely stirring.

  “It’s taken care of now.” She sat down in Pete’s old swivel chair and edged it over to the table. Time for him to get back to work too. “Oh, Rod,” Juliet went on, “thanks for believing me about the face at the window and the papers.”

  It had never occurred to him to doubt her.

  Five

  Rod didn’t really doubt her but he did head upstairs to check, and there was a heavy brass bolt securely fixed to the bathroom door. The shower curtain, contrary to his fears of big pink cabbage roses, was a plain navy one, hung on a brand-new set of plastic rings. Mizz ffrench didn’t mess around.

  A quick phone call to Paul confirmed Juliet had searched the alley. Rod had seen the file folders spread out on the table and, for the life of him, he couldn’t see why she’d have made it up.

  He didn’t need to call John. He came in early in the afternoon for a cheeseburger and fries.

  “A prowler?” John asked as they sat opposite each other in one of the booths.

  “I don’t know. Could have been someone passing and just looking in as the light was on.”

  “Think she made it up?”

  “Why? Anyway she didn’t imagine the papers moved around. I saw them.”

  “She could have moved them.”

  Rod conceded the point with a nod but…“She didn’t. I’m sure of it. She was genuinely worried.”

  “You believe her?”

  “Yes.”

  John’s mouth twitched. “Falling for her, Rod?”

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake, John! I’m asking you as an old buddy—and the sheriff of this here town, I’ll remind you—to keep your eyes peeled around the building. Is that too much to ask?”

  “Okay. I’ll keep an eye out and mention it to the deputies. Why don’t you check the locks? As old as this building is they might need replacing.”

  “The ones on this side are new. I put them all in when I took over the bar. Had to for the insurance.”

  “What about the rest of the building? You could have someone camping out in the boarded-up side and never know it.”

  Unlikely but…“I’ll check it out.” Wouldn’t hurt after all and Juliet wanted to see the other half of the building. He’d put her off so far, but this way she’d be satisfied and he’d make sure they didn’t have any squatters or stowaways. Not that he thought it the least likely.

  “Sounds good,” John said, looking up as Mary-Beth set his plate in front of him. “Looks good too.” He smiled at her and gave his attention to his burger. “Tell you what,” he said through a mouthful of lunch, “when I finish I’ll go back and have a word with Mizz ffrench. Get her version of things.”

  Rod couldn’t think of any reasonable reason for John not to talk to Juliet. He just didn’t want him to. And if John made any off-color cracks about her, he’d wrap his guts around his neck and damn the badge he wore. Deep breath here. He was not seriously considering doing violence to the sheriff and one of his oldest friends over a woman he didn’t even like, was he? Or did he really like her but…Forget it! At least for now. “Want me to ask her to come out and talk to you?” At least there would be witnesses then.

  “I’ll go back and look around. There might be clues you civilians missed. Pete’s old office you said?”

  He had but was beginning to regret it. Why? That question would take some answering. He suspected John had written off the whole business as female neurosis and imagination, but Rod sensed differently. He smiled. If John started patronizing Juliet, he was in for a surprise.

  Sneaky of him, but he tiptoed down the back hallway and eased into his own office, leaving the door open. Just in case Juliet needed his help.

  He should have guessed she wouldn’t. When John left fifteen minutes later, his tread heavy on the bare floorboards, Rod had to restrain himself from rushing across and giving Juliet a high five. He could hardly admit to eavesdropping but he freely admitted (if only to himself) that she had dealt with John with dignity, calm, and a touch of pizzazz.

  Smiling, almost whistling, Rod crossed the hallway to Juliet’s open door. She looked up. “Everything okay?” he asked.

  “I think so. Although I would like to know what it takes to convince policemen here that you’re serious. All due respect and that, but he implied I dreamed it or was mistaken.”

  “I imagine you convinced him otherwise.”

  Her laugh was loud, sharp, and sexy as all get-out and wobbled her breasts in a fascinating way. “I sincerely hope so. It might not be a crime to peer in windows, but if it happens all the time, I’m darn glad I sleep upstairs.”

  So was he. Last thing she needed was a peeping Tom.

  “Did you need anything?” she asked, a little smile curling up her mouth.

  “Not really, except…how about we go into Pebble Creek this evening and have dinner?” Where had that come from?

  She appeared equally surprised. “You’re asking me out?”

  Maybe, whatever that meant. “On a date, you mean?” She nodded, a little uncertainly. “Not really. It’s not a date or anything, but I thought you might like to see a bit more of the area. Plus it never hurts to check out the competition, and no point in spending every waking moment in the Rooster.” All made perfectly good sense from a business point of view, so why was he sweating and his heart racing?

  She was quiet for at least a dozen of his turbo-powered heartbeats. “All right. What time do you want to go?”

  He had to swallow to ease his suddenly dry throat. “How about seven? After the night shift gets settled.”

  “Fine.”

  It was going to be.

  After Rod left, Juliet sat staring at the empty doorway. What was that about? Why had he asked her out? And even more pertinent, why had she accepted?

  She knew the answer to that one. In spite of all logic and common sense, she lusted after Rod Carter, and darn it, he’d seen her naked, hadn’t he? It was n
ow her turn. A nice dinner—she’d even offer to buy a bottle of wine—and then who knows what might happen once they got home.

  Of course she might just be deluding herself, and perhaps Rod had not the slightest interest in her, but if that was the case, why suggest they go out to dinner when they could eat for free at the Rooster?

  Meanwhile she had a few more cubic meters of paper to wade through. At this rate, it would take her the next five years to sort the lot out. Her grandfather went beyond pack rat, to obsessive keeper of obsolete papers.

  As she tossed a stack of receipts that dated back to before she was born, she wondered what sort of person the old man really was.

  “Ready?” Rod asked, knocking on her door.

  Juliet had decided to wait up there rather than announce to the entire staff and patrons that they were going out together. They’d work out what was going on soon enough (assuming anything was going on), but this way she’d be spared the scrutiny of a couple of dozen pairs of curious eyes.

  “You look great,” Rod said.

  “Thank you.” Wasn’t by chance. She’d spent a couple of hours agonizing over what to wear. She did not want to dress up and give the evening more significance than it warranted, but she wasn’t about to slummock off and let down the side. She could have simplified the decision by asking Rod where they were going, but that put more emphasis on the evening than she wanted. Or did it?

  She’d settled for black jeans and a royal blue silk T-shirt and gussied the lot up with some of her mother’s jewelry: a pair of diamond studs and a gold bangle.

  Judging by the look on Rod’s face, she hadn’t done too shabbily.

  Not that he was about to let her down. He too wore jeans, blue ones with knife-sharp creases down the front, and a cream shirt with a narrow leather tie and a silver and turquoise slide. He’d shaved and it didn’t take much effort to imagine how the smooth skin would feel under her fingertips. His dark hair was still slightly damp, which must be why he carried his tan hat in his left hand.

  She might just have to fight off other women if she wanted him.

  Question was, did she?

  “All set then?”

  She hoped so.

  Standing aside like a gentleman and letting her go first gave Rod plenty of opportunity to watch. And what a sight for sore eyes. Juliet’s jeans fit perfectly and moved as she did, and the bright shirt, the color of Texas bluebonnets, clung to her curves, not only showing them off, but encouraging his already fertile imagination.

  She had style, and class, and made him wish he had something other than an eight-year-old pickup. At least it was clean inside. He’d made sure of that before he dashed upstairs for a quick shave and shower.

  She hopped up into the truck as he opened the door for her. He’d half hoped she’d need a hand up, but her strappy sandals didn’t slow her one little bit. She had his door unlocked and her seat belt fastened before he walked around to his side. As he got in and started the engine, she gave him an odd, quick little smile. Very odd indeed. Her eyes didn’t have quite the same sparkle he’d learned to associate with her smiles. Was she nervous? That made two of them.

  What the hell for? He wasn’t a teenager heading for the river to park. Why was he thinking about making out down by the river overlook? That was not what he had in mind.

  Okay, it might be, but only if she gave the go-ahead. Last thing he wanted was to screw things up.

  “What do you feel like eating?” he asked after a few miles of quiet.

  “What are my options?”

  Stop right here and head for the riverbank? Better slow down a bit. “What do you like? Italian? Steak? Chinese? There’s even a fancy French place and a couple of good seafood places. Your call.”

  She barely hesitated. “Is the Chinese good? I love Chinese.”

  “It’s fairly new. Never eaten there.” He gave her a sideways glance. “Shall we give it a go?”

  She gave a little chuckle. “Let’s!”

  Steak was more his taste, but given the company he’d settle for moo goo gai pan.

  The Lotus Bowl wasn’t just new, and bright spanking new at that—all glistening chrome and shiny dark glass—but if the restaurant business failed, they could use the place as a warehouse. Juliet stared at the vast room as they waited behind a group of men and a rather large family with half a dozen children.

  Not an intimate sort of restaurant, so bang went the thought of seduction by candlelight. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea after all. Or was it? She glanced up at Rod’s profile. She’d have to be dead and cold in her coffin before he wasn’t worth the trouble. Mind you, big question was, would she make a perfect fool of herself if she went for her chance?

  They were stuck hip to hip for three years—unless he left or she gave up—and things could get pretty sticky if they didn’t work out.

  On the other hand, maybe he was thinking the same. He’d asked her out, hadn’t he? So far they’d not talked much about the Rooster.

  “They’re ready.” Rod nudged her elbow just before closing his hand right over it. The effect was distracting in the extreme. “They have a table for us.”

  While she’d been lost in lustful possibilities the crowd in front had dispersed. “Good!”

  Probably.

  Rod did the gentlemanly thing and held her chair for her. Very nice and all that, but out of several dozen tables in the middle of the room, was it just chance they ended up in a cozy alcove for two? A little alcove with a tiny oil lamp that threw a soft light on the dark blue tablecloth, accentuated the strong lines of Rod’s nose and chin, and made his dark eyes gleam with an almost feral light in the shadow of his hat brim.

  She made herself stop ogling him and concentrate on the menu.

  “What appeals to you?”

  “You!” was a bad answer. “I think shrimp toast and twice-cooked pork,” she paused, “but I do love crispy duck and pancakes.”

  “Get all three,” he suggested. “I’ll have orange beef and we’ll share.”

  They’d be hovering on the edge of gluttony but…“All right.” Rod looked around to catch a waiter’s eye. “We are splitting this, right?” Better get this straight from the beginning.

  “Hell no!” His teeth gleamed as he grinned. “I asked you. This is my treat.”

  It was on the tip of her tongue to argue but instead she said, “All right then, I buy the wine.”

  He lifted a dark eyebrow. “Out to get me drunk?”

  “You bet. Drunk as a lord, so I can have my wicked will of you!”

  His chuckle was as sexy as the rest of him. “Can’t wait!”

  Pity he was joking. Or was he? Was he wondering the same about her. Was she deluding herself? At least they would have something other than hamburgers or fried chicken for dinner. Still it would be nice to be able to say outright, “Rod, I really fancy going to bed with you.” But it would take a stronger woman than she—or one much more brazen.

  The food was great. So, come to that, was Rod. Even if he did refill her wineglass with a regularity that had her wondering about his intentions, but in all fairness, he was driving home.

  “Why did you really come to Silver Gulch?” he asked, very nonchalantly, as he spread duck sauce on a wafer-thin pancake and proceeded to arrange slivers of duck and scallions before rolling it all up tightly.

  He was back at that, was he? If it was going to be open season…“I was rather bored and thought it would be fun to seduce a cowboy and find out if everything really is bigger in Texas.”

  For a few seconds it looked as though she’d have to do the Heimlich maneuver, but Rod coughed and swallowed and looked at her with bleary eyes in his red face. “You make comments like that and you could end up in trouble!” Part of her wondered if she wasn’t already. “Seriously,” he went on, “are you planning on settling here?” He gave her a cautious look as if waiting for another wisecrack.

  “Honestly? I don’t know. I’m sort of committed for three years if I want
the money. What I’d like to do is make the whole building pay its way. It’s nonsensical to leave more than half of it sitting empty.”

  “What are your plans?”

  Juliet paused as the waitress cleared the empty dishes and brought out the next course. “I want to invest in the property.” She helped herself to a generous serving of twice-cooked pork. Might as well keep her strength up. “Renovate the other apartments so they are habitable and let them and do something with the unused retail space. I thought I might open a minigallery with local crafts.”

  “You know anyone local who makes crafts?”

  Back to skeptical was he? Just when she thought they were getting somewhere. “Maude Wilson and her sister make quilts, Mr. Rankins’s secretary’s brother does exquisite hand carving, and Mary-Beth knows a local leather worker.”

  “Jeff Williams.” Rod nodded. “In a few days you’ve covered a lot.”

  “I don’t believe in letting the grass grow under my feet.”

  He reached for the rice. “And what about the Rooster?”

  “It’s a profitable business. You made it a profitable business.”

  He nodded, smiled, and raised a dark eyebrow. “I did, didn’t I?”

  “The current arrangement isn’t the best.”

  “You can say that again. I’d like to know where I stand.”

  “I think we both would.” Both his eyebrows went up at that. Honestly, one of these days they’d disappear up into those dark brown curls but…“Could you afford to buy the Rooster? If not now, in three, five years?”

  Whatever he’d expected, it wasn’t that. Now he stared. “You serious?”

  “Just asking. You’re good at running it. We’d have to work out some sort of profit sharing but, heck, you’ve plowed money into it. What my grandfather did was pretty lousy. Mind you, Maddocks excel at lousy.”

  Rod wouldn’t argue with any of that—except the last bit. He was still convinced Pete meant to see him right but circumstances intervened. “You’ve got to get over despising him, you know.”

  “You don’t?”

  “He was always straight with me, until the accident. After all, he wasn’t too shabby with you.”