Trouble (B-Squad 2.75)

"Yeah, but this way you don't get to the hotel and realize you forgot something." He grinned and gave her a quick wink. "It's small town service. Bet you don't get that up in Denver."

"It's definitely not Catfish Creek."

Not by a long shot. She'd gotten out of town as fast as she could after high school graduation and hadn't regretted her decision once. The fact that her shop in Denver, Botanical Solutions, was only a block away from the garage where Grayson worked made it even better—she got to keep the one part of Catfish Creek she'd liked. If only she was attracted to Gray. Oh yeah, he was cute and inked up and funny, but not even at her horniest had she ever wanted him. Drew on the other hand? Her panties got wet just thinking about him and she hated his guts after what he'd done. That whole Jackson family was nothing but bad news. Principal Christianson had been right about one thing when it came to her, she made some pretty shitty choices--especially when it came to that summer and acting out on the Drew Jackson fantasies she'd had from the first time she'd slipped her fingers beneath her panties and got herself off.

And before she could start thinking too much about the firmness of Drew's ass and how it felt when the muscles moved as he pumped into her, she grabbed her wheeled bag and headed south toward The Hamburger Shack. She smelled it before she hit the front door and by the time she walked through it, her stomach was rumbling for the kind of artery-clogging goodness that came with cheese, bacon and a hunk of red onion sandwiched between two toasted buns and served with a side of spicy fries.

Fifteen minutes later she was two bites into a heart attack when something—or someone, really—blocked the sun streaming in from the restaurant's huge glass window. Glancing up, she took in the no-neck, muscle-bound pseudo cowboys in store-starched Western shirts, jeans, and boots so gaudy only a tourist would even think to pick them up. Both wore sunglasses. One was blonde, the other had carrot red hair and a dimple in his chin. If they were local or here for the reunion, she'd forsake the homemade lemonade that had come with her burger—and that stuff was liquid gold.

"Table's taken," she said before turning her attention back to her meal.

Blondie snorted. "We see that."

"So move along." She took another bite, chewing slow while watching the men out of the corner of her eye. These two set off a whole passel of warning bells, but she wasn't about to flinch. Botanical Solutions may sell legal marijuana but that didn't mean that all of her clientele stayed on the right side of the law. She'd learned to listen to her danger early warning system.

"Be glad to," Red said as he swiped one of her fries off her plate. "Just as soon as you give it back to us."

She edged her hand closer to the steak knife by her plate. It wouldn't do a lot of damage but jabbing it into one of the Rhinestone Cowboy's softer spots might be enough of a distraction for her to slip past them because she had no fucking clue what they were after. "It?"

"Don't play dumb," Red said. "We know Jessup gave it to you."

Fucking A. This was like being in one of those dreams where she had no clue what was going on beyond the fact that it was probably really bad. "Jessup?"

Red took off his sunglasses, planted his palms on the table on either side of her plate, and leaned forward, not stopping until he loomed over her. "Give it up or pay the consequences."

His breath smelled like stale cigarettes and onion rings. Not a great combination. Keeping her gaze locked on him, Leah curled her fingers around the knife handle and gripped it tight, ready to do what needed to be done to get out of here before 'roided-up Red decided it was time to get really serious.

Movement to her left flashed in her periphery.

"The only one who's gonna be paying is you," Drew said, his hand resting on the butt of his still-holstered gun.

Drew

Paid muscle. It wasn't something Drew spotted every day in Catfish Creek, but he'd run up against enough thugs for hire when he was in Fort Worth to recognize the breed. They were big, cocky, and no doubt had at least one gun concealed on their persons. His money was on their ugly-ass boots since their pearl-button shirts were too tight to hide anything.

"The door's that way." He jerked his chin in the direction of the front door, thankful that the smattering of customers at The Hamburger Shack for a late lunch were more interested in watching the show rather than getting involved in it.

The goon straightened up until he could almost look Drew in the eyes and puffed out his chest. "This has nothing to do with you."

Wrong answer.

"I say it does." Especially when it comes to Leah Camacho.

"Don't get your panties in a twist," the guy said as if it were an insult. "We'll be gone soon." He glanced back down at Leah, offering her a cold smile, before putting on his shades. "One way or another."

The men ambled out as if they hadn't just delivered a promise there was no way he'd let them keep. Standing his ground, Drew watched their progress as they exited The Hamburger Shack and got into the extended cab pickup truck that was a match for the one that had slow rolled by Leah’s car earlier. He snapped the loop back over his service weapon and noted the license plate number for later—and there would be a later, he had no doubt about it. There always was with their type. He wasn't worried about catching up with them when he needed to later though because it was hard to hide that much douchebaggery in a town this size.

The waitress dropped off a glass of sweet tea just as Drew slid into the chair opposite Leah.

"Thanks, Marsha," he said.

He took a long sip of tea while Leah continued to eat her fries, as if what had just gone down was a normal part of her daily life. Shit. For all he knew, it was. She did sell pot for a living.

"You following me?" she asked, licking the dusting of fry seasoning off the tips of her fingers.

Distracted by the sight of her pink tongue and the memories it conjured of what it looked like when she'd used the same technique on the swollen head of his cock, it took a few moments for her words to sink in.

He shrugged. "Noticed the truck from earlier parked outside and figured trouble was stirring. How about you finish your burger and tell me what's really going on."