Devil in Texas (Rugged and Risque 1)

“You don’t have to twist our arms!” Jess said as she reached for her glass.

Jack returned to the bar, tidying it up before the evening crowd started to file in, leaving him little time to think about Liza and the predicament he’d found himself in. Created for himself, really, because he’d known what he was doing last night. Had known this morning when he’d made love to her. Had known when he’d paraded down the main drag with her.

As the stools at the bar started to fill up, he scribbled the word “reserved” on a cocktail napkin and placed it in front of the empty stool on the end. Just in case Liza got a grip on all the things she had to reconcile and decided to stop in tonight.

* * * * *

She felt his electrifying gaze on her the minute she walked through the door. Containing the smile that tickled her lips wasn’t easy. Nor was regulating her breathing. It escalated at the mere thought of Jack and excitement zinged through her because she knew he was watching her.

She scanned the area, trying to decide where to sit, knowing she should meet more people. This was a comfortable, friendly environment, after all. Not the “dropped in Oz” experience she’d had in town. She wondered if her hypothetical house had flattened Lydia when she was in her shop. She decided she didn’t mind the idea of having put her Royal Witchiness in her place—and hoped she stayed there.

Pushing those thoughts from her mind, she went back to assessing the room, looking for a strategic place to plop down. But when her eyes landed on Jack, stationed behind the bar, dressed in jeans and a white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his rock-hard biceps, she knew there was only one person she wanted to spend the evening with. She had plenty of time to make friends later. Being away from the Devil for just a few hours had her jonesing like an addict.

She stepped up to the bar and said in a teasing tone, “You really need more bars in this town.”

“Mine not good enough for ya, darlin’?”

“It’s not that,” she said as she set her purse on the bar and slid onto the only empty stool as he whisked away a napkin in front of it. “I don’t want you to think I’m stalking you. I’m just thirsty.”

He chuckled, making every one of her nerve-endings tingle. “I’ll try to keep my ego in check, given that you’ve stopped by two nights in a row.”

“Yes, do try.”

His expression changed, however, in the next second. Hardening with a scowl. He said, “You do realize this is the only bar left in town?”

“Why’s that?” Liza asked as she settled more comfortably onto her stool.

“Ask your friend Reverend Bain the next time he stops by your cottage.”

Ah, him again.

“You know, he mentioned something odd this afternoon when I ran into him.”

“He came back to the cottage?” Jack asked, looking sufficiently outraged.

Quick to quell his anger, Liza said, “No, no. I went back into town to check out the hair salon. Big mistake, as you can imagine. And so unfortunate for me. But I digress.” She reached for the glass of water Jack poured for her and took a sip. Then she said, “I nearly ran the reverend down when I was coming out of the drugstore. He invited me to Bingo tonight. Said the ladies play ‘til eleven.”

“Yes, they do,” Jack said, his jaw tightening as though he knew exactly what she was about to say.

“Why is that? If the saloon has to close at ten because of the Saturday night curfew, why is the church still open for business? For gambling, no less?”

“It’s not sinning when you’re under God’s roof, darlin’.”

She frowned. “That’s a little too convenient.” But she was already beginning to see there were two sets of rules in this town. One for the sinners and one for the saints.

“White or red?” Jack asked, changing the subject as he tossed a fresh napkin onto the scuffed wood and reached for a wineglass.

“Red, of course.”

“Should’ve known.” He set the glass in front of her, then ducked beneath the bar, only to pop up a few seconds later with two wine bottles in each hand. “Pick your poison.”

“Impressive selection. I’ll take the Cabernet Franc.”

“About time someone drank it. I special ordered these fancy wines for a wedding reception a few months back. No one was interested.”

He pulled the cork and splashed a healthy amount into her glass, then pushed it toward her. After taking a sip, she said, “This will do nicely.”

He grinned. “And here I thought you’d be tough to please.”