Wild Cowboy Nights (Foolproof Love 1-3)

“What’s that?” Quinn asked.

“Nothing.” Just past the girls, Adam spotted Daniel heading toward the line of trucks disappearing into the darkness. Back when they were kids, Daniel had been the straitlaced one. The one who got them out of as much trouble as Adam and John got them into. John. It had all changed that night on the rain-slicked road. “How’s he doing? Really doing?”

“Hell, man, I don’t know. It all changed when you left.” There was no accusation in Quinn’s voice, but Adam felt it all the same.

After John died, he should have stayed to help pick up the pieces. He knew Daniel blamed himself for the car crash, but he’d been so desperate to get out of town, he’d barely paused long enough to fill up his truck before he headed for the horizon. He hadn’t even made the funeral. And he hadn’t come back much in the intervening years—definitely not long enough to get past the nights of drunken partying with his buddies.

I’m back now, at least for a couple weeks, and I’m going to set shit right.

That started with the woman now watching him across the clearing with dark eyes. He had no business sniffing around Jules Rodriguez, if only because she was Daniel’s cousin, and he’d failed his friend enough without adding this to the list. But Adam couldn’t get the image of her desperate expression out of his head.

He couldn’t hang her out to dry. Not tonight, at least.

He walked over and passed over a beer before he joined her against the tailgate. There was a respectable distance between them, but he still was acutely aware of every move she made. When she lifted the beer to sip it, Adam damn near groaned.

Jules’s gaze fell to the bottle in her hands. “He didn’t believe the kiss, did he?”

Adam took a long pull on his beer bottle, more to calm himself down than because he was thirsty. “He had his doubts.”

“Damn.” She sighed, her shoulders slumping. “Thanks for trying. A-plus for effort.”

There wasn’t going to be a clearer opening. That kiss had been the sole moment since he’d been back in town where he wasn’t ready to climb the walls. She was right there, the perfect distraction all wrapped up in a package that seemed designed to make him sit up and take notice.

It would be a shitty thing to do. No.

But when he opened his mouth, different words came out. “I guess we’ll just have to be more convincing.”

The redhead on the other side of Jules made a choking sound. “Oh my God, you’re crazier than she is.”

Jules’s mouth opened into a little O, and her eyes went wide. “I’m sorry, what?”

This was his chance to take it all back—all he had to do was let her down easy—but apparently Adam was too much of a selfish bastard for that. He leaned in, almost close enough to touch. “You up to giving him a little show? I can do this all night.”

She bit her lip, her gaze dropping to his mouth. “That’s really sweet, but I can’t ask you to do that. I’ve already sexually assaulted you once tonight. I doubt my conscience can handle more.”

“It’s no trouble.” Why was he pushing this? He couldn’t force Jules into it, though, so he just toasted her with his beer. “Think about it.”

“Oh, she’s going to think about it, all right.” The redhead dodged the elbow aimed her way this time. “I’m just going to, ah, mosey on over there and find myself a drink that’s more of the vodka variety.”

Quinn appeared at her shoulder like some kind of magician. “I got it.” He presented her a red Solo cup with a flourish. “Tell me, sweet cheeks, did it hurt when you fell from heaven?”

“Nope, but I scraped my knees when I crawled up from hell.” The woman rattled off her response without looking at him or sounding the least bit interested.

Quinn, on the other hand, only seemed more intrigued. “Witty. I like that. Maybe you and me should go get a drink sometime.”

Jules coughed, and Adam had to use every ounce of willpower under his control to keep his grin off his face when the redhead turned to his friend, made a show of looking him up and down, and shook her head. “Sorry, cowboy, but judging from the assets you’re far too proud of displaying”—she waved at his crotch area—“I’ve had better. Not interested.”

She turned to Jules. “Can we please leave? Much more of this and I’m going to develop a sudden infatuation with my cousin.”

“God forbid.” Jules shifted away from the tailgate and shot a smile at Adam. “Thanks for the beer and, well, for everything else, too. You’re sweet.” Then she was gone, being towed by her friend through the crowd back toward the line of trucks.