Kimberly Raye – Texas Outlaws: Jesse (страница 8)

“Well, I got bunions.”

“So? You ain’t fightin’ with your feet....”

The two men turned their focus to each other and Gracie’s gaze shifted back to Jesse. She expected the anger. The hatred. He’d been big on both way back when, particularly when it came to the citizens of Lost Gun. He’d hated them as much as they’d hated him, and he’d never been shy about showing it.

Instead of hard, glittering anger, she saw a flash of pain, a glimmer of regret, and she had the startling thought that while he looked every bit the hard, bulletproof cowboy she remembered so well, there was a softening in his gaze. His heart.

As if Jesse actually cared what the two old men had said to him.

As if.

No, Jesse James Chisholm didn’t give two shakes what the fine people of Lost Gun thought about him. He hated the town and he always would.

Meanwhile, she was stuck smack-dab in the middle of it.

She ignored the depressing thought and searched for her voice. “So, um, what are you doing here?”

He motioned to the bridal salon just two doors down. “I have to see a man about a tux. I’m Pete’s right hand.”

“I didn’t mean here as in this location. I meant—” she motioned between them “—here. You couldn’t wait to get away from me earlier. Now you’re standing here having a conversation. Because?”

He frowned, as if he didn’t quite understand it any more than she did. “You caught me at a bad time, I suppose.”

“I didn’t mean to. I just wanted to warn you before the reporters beat me to it.”

“You did the right thing.”

“I just thought you should know...” Her gaze snapped up. “What did you just say?”

“It’s not about what I just said. It’s about what I should have said earlier.” His gaze caught and held hers. “Thanks for giving me the heads-up.” Where she’d missed the gratitude that morning, there was no mistaking the sentiment now. “Motives aside, you warned me and I am grateful.”

“Me, too.” When he gave her a questioning look, she added, “For the flowers that you sent when my brother died. I should have said thank you back then. I didn’t.”

“I’m really sorry about what happened to him.”

“It was his choice.” She shrugged. “He enlisted. He knew the risks, but he took them anyway.”

“Seems to me,” he said after a long moment, “he died doing something he believed in. I can’t think of a better way to go myself.”

Neither could she at that moment and oddly enough, the tightness in her chest eased just a fraction. “If you’re not careful, you’ll be following in his footsteps. That was a hard fall you took back at the arena.”

A wicked grin tugged at the corner of his lips. “The harder, the better.”

“I’m talking about riding.”

“So am I, sugar.” The grin turned into a full-blown smile. “So am I.” The words were like a chisel chipping away at the wall she’d erected between them. Even more, he stared deep into her eyes and for a long moment, she forgot everything.

The nosy men sitting across the street. The endless stream of people walking past. The all-important fact that she needed to get a move on if she meant to get inside the health food store before they closed.

He made her feel like the only woman in the world.

Which was crazy with a big fat C.

He was flirting, for heaven’s sake. Just the kind of sexy, seductive innuendo she would expect from one of the hottest bachelors on the PBR circuit.

It wasn’t as if he wanted to sweep her up and ride off into the sunset. This wasn’t about her personally. She was simply one of many in a long, long line of women who lusted after him, and he was simply living up to his reputation.

Just as she should be living up to hers.

She stiffened. “It was nice to see you, but I really should get going. I’ve got a ton of work back at City Hall.”

“Duty calls, right?”

Her gaze collided with his and she could have sworn she saw a glimmer of disappointment before it disappeared into the vivid violet depths. “Always.”

And then she turned and hurried toward the Green Machine before she did the unthinkable—like wrap her arms around him, hop on and ride him for a scorching eight seconds in front of God and the Amberjack twins.

She would have done just that prior to her brother’s death, but she was no longer the rebellious teenager desperate to flee the confines of her small town.

She was mature.

Responsible.

Safe.

If only that thought didn’t depress her almost as much as the skinny treats that waited for her inside the health food store.

5

“THIS IS JUST plain wrong.” Cole Unger Chisholm frowned as he stood on the raised dais in the middle of the mirrored dressing room of Lost Gun’s one and only bridal salon. “Tell me again why I have to wear this.”

“For Pete.” Jesse ignored the prickly fabric of his own tuxedo and tried to forget the sugary scent of vanilla cupcakes that still teased his nostrils. Of all the people he could possibly run into—the local police chief, the busybodies from the Ladies’ Auxiliary, the gossipy Amberjack brothers—it had to be Gracie. Talk about rotten luck.

“Stop your bellyaching,” he told Cole. “You’re wearing it and that’s that.”

“Pete don’t give two licks about a freakin’ tuxedo with a girly purple cummerbund and matching tie, so why should I?”

“Because he’s marrying Wendy and she does give two licks.” Jesse lifted one arm so Mr. McGinnis, the shop’s owner and tailor, could adjust the hem on his sleeve.

Cole eyed his reflection. “But the cummerbund looks almost pink.”

“It’s actually lavender.” The comment came from the petite blonde who appeared in the curtained doorway. Her blue eyes narrowed as she eyed Cole. “And you’re right. It’s all wrong.”

“See?” Cole pushed back a strand of unruly brown hair and stared defiantly at Jesse. “That’s what I’ve been saying all along.”

“You’ve got it hooked in the front,” Wendy announced. “It’s supposed to hook in the back. Isn’t that right, Mr. McGinnis?”

“Sure enough, Miss Wendy.” The older man slipped the last pin into Jesse’s hem and turned to work on Cole’s tux. In a matter of seconds, he readjusted the shiny taffeta material and stepped back. “There. Now it’s perfect.”

“Perfect?” Cole frowned. “But I look like a—”

“Where’s Pete?” Jesse cut in, drawing Wendy’s attention before Cole could say something he would later regret.

And Jesse had no doubt his middle brother would do just that. Cole had zero filters when it came to running his mouth, which explained why he ended up in more than his fair share of bar fights.

“He’s trying on his tuxedo in the next room,” Wendy replied. “He’ll be out in a second.” She turned a grateful smile on Cole. “Listen, I know you don’t feel comfortable all dressed up like this, but I really appreciate it.”

“It’s our pleasure,” Jesse cut in before Cole could open his mouth again.

“Damn straight it is.” The comment came from Billy, who waltzed in wearing the same tuxedo.

Wendy turned on the youngest Chisholm and her eyes went misty. “You look wonderful!”

Billy winked. “Anything for you and Pete.” He stepped up on the dais next to Cole so that Mr. McGinnis could work on the hem of his pants. “Ain’t that right, bro?” He clapped Cole on the shoulder.

The middle Chisholm shrugged free. “I guess so.”

“I was hoping you’d feel that way.” Another smile touched Wendy’s pink lips and Jesse knew she had something up her sleeve even before she added, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you, Cole. See, one of my friends is flying in from Houston and I need someone to pick her up at the airport. I would get Red to do it, but Hannah—that’s her name—comes in smack-dab during his soap opera time, and you know how that goes.”

Red owned the only cab in Lost Gun. He was also a die-hard soap opera fan. Since he was as old as dirt, he hadn’t yet discovered TiVo or a DVR, which meant he was completely out of commission between the hours of 11:00 a.m. and 2:00 p.m. on any given weekday.

“She tried to get a different flight,” Wendy went on, “but it’s the only one that will put her here in time for the rehearsal dinner.”

“No problem,” Jesse said. “Cole here would be happy to pick her up for you.” He clapped his brother on the shoulder, his hand lingering. “Isn’t that right?”

“But I’ve got a training session—” the younger Chisholm started. Jesse dug his fingers into muscle and Cole bit out, “All right, already. I’ll do it.”

“You will?” Excitement lit Wendy’s eyes.