Devil in Texas (Rugged and Risque 1)

“You were right, cowboy. I am getting more than I bargained for. And I’m just…done with it.” She turned and walked off, saying over her shoulder as she passed through the door, “You can keep my rent.”

“Jack.” Lydia’s voice was quiet on the still air. “Maybe this is all for the be—”

He whirled around to face her, his anger flaring again. “Not a word, Lydia. Not another goddamn word from you.”

Her mouth gaped and her eyes grew wide with shock.

Jack stormed out of the saloon, but was too late. He stood in the cloud of dust kicked up by the Mercedes as it raced out of sight.

Jack stared after the sports car, his gut clenching tight. Subconsciously, he’d known the minute Liza had walked through his door, less than a week ago, that he didn’t want to let her go.

Today, she’d let him go.

Chapter Nineteen

Packing her meager belongings didn’t take nearly as long as she thought it would. She’d figured that by the time she had her two suitcases stuffed to the gills and crammed into the small trunk of the Mercedes, followed by the three oversized Louis Vuitton totes nearly bursting at the seams and shoved into the passenger side of the car, she’d be calmer. Ready to take a deep breath and regroup. Maybe sit down with a glass of iced tea or wine and chill out. Rethink the day. Make a different choice.

She couldn’t say what, for sure, set her off today. Perhaps it was Lydia’s visit to the flower shop the day before. Her blatant snub, her veiled insults about Liza not fitting in. She had to admit that if it’d been anyone else treating her like shit, she probably would have told her off and been done with it. But it wasn’t just anyone. It was Lydia Bain. Jack’s dear friend. A woman he cared about and protected. A woman whose opinion he valued.

That thought alone had brought on more insecurity today than Liza could process at once. When she’d seen the two of them together, alone, and he’d admitted they’d been talking about her, she’d hit her bullshit threshold.

Just as she’d explained to Jack, she’d come to town with the need to be herself. To not cater to someone else’s whim. To not let them dictate who she was for their own purposes.

She’d faltered along the way. Had felt self-conscious about wearing clothes she liked. Had obsessed over Lydia Bain shunning her. Had wanted desperately to please the Ladies Who Lunch. Not just for Jess’ sake. Not for Jack’s. But because she’d wanted to belong.

But she didn’t, did she?

The thought did not sit well with her. Emotion welled in her throat. She really didn’t seem to fit in anywhere. Not the big city. Not a small town.

Why, exactly, was that?

Two hours had passed since she’d left the saloon and she was nowhere near calm. Nor was she anywhere close to reasoning with herself on what had gone so horrifically awry today. Add to that the fact that Jack had left her cottage on Sunday night without making love to her and hadn’t called or stopped by last night and she really felt she’d never figure out this town or life in it. She’d sensed the other night that she’d killed the romantic buzz with him and clearly, she was right.

Leaving her with a whole lot of “why am I still here?” thoughts.

This town had serious issues to reconcile. Politics she understood, but really had nothing to do with. She was an outsider. The people who lived and worked here, with embedded roots, were the ones in need of figuring out how they were going to keep the town alive, keep themselves in business, while placating the saints at the same time. This wasn’t her fight. She was just here on a whim, after all. Looking for a good time.

A good girl turned wicked woman experience.

She’d succeeded in finding that. So now, maybe, it really was time to move on.

Though…she had no idea where she wanted to go from here. Certainly not back to New York. Not back to her former life. She was long past that. She had sent her mother enough text messages to confirm she wasn’t coming back, though her mother still reminded her of routine social engagements she expected Liza to attend.

With a sigh, Liza locked the cottage door and slipped the key under the mat. As she stood on the front porch, staring out at the lake, she considered her options. Austin, maybe? San Antonio? Dallas?

Not sure where she wanted to go, she descended the steps and traversed the pathway that led to the back of the cottage where her car was parked. When she slid behind the driver’s seat, she caught a glimpse of herself in the rear-view mirror. Those crazy highlights. Jack had never said a word about them. He’d accepted them the way he’d accepted everything else about her.

Which made her frown. He accepted her. So too did Jess and Ginger. Even Ruby.

But Jack and Lydia were thick as thieves and, eventually, he’d side with his lifelong friend over a mere fling, wouldn’t he?

What, exactly, had he said to Lydia when they’d been talking about her? Had he agreed with whatever derogatory thing Lydia might have been ranting about? Or had he stood up for her?

Her heart wanted to believe he’d stood up for her. But it’d been Lydia he’d been talking with. Liza didn’t expect him to turn his back on that friendship for a girl he’d met less than a week ago.

Starting the engine, she reviewed her options again. Maybe Austin, since it was where her dad had been born. A bigger city than Wilder. Perhaps a bit more progressive.

As she turned the car around, she caught a glimpse of the lake in her side mirror. She’d miss that pretty scenery. As she passed by the farmhouse at the top of the hill, she thought about Jack.