Buckled (Trails of Sin 2)
On another day, in another life, I might’ve considered his offer. The deep rumble of his voice alone makes me feel blissfully warm and dizzy. I’m certain the rest of him would give me the ride of my life.
But my situation doesn’t allow for indulgence. Especially not indulgence with this man.
“I think not.” My tone is short, tolerating no room for argument.
“Then I expect you’ll find your way out of town and back to wherever you came from.”
“I’m gonna dance with my girl.” Jake rises and cants the brim of his hat in my direction. “Ma’am.”
He and Conor vacate the table, leaving me alone with Jarret.
“I’m not going anywhere.” My stomach ripples with nerves, and I press my hands against my lap to keep my fingers out of my hair.
The silent space between us becomes the focal point, hovering like an awkward intruder. Jarret doesn’t strike me as the quiet type. He’s blatantly ignoring me.
“You were there the night Conor was attacked.” I pull in a steady breath. “Yet you were unharmed. Were you in cohorts with Levi Tibbs?”
He moves his eyes slowly, deliberately, locking onto mine with lethal warning.
“Look at her.” He tilts his head toward Conor without shifting his gaze from me.
My pulse stutters as I find her red hair in the crowd of cowboy hats. With her fingers curled around Jake’s neck, she lifts on her toes and whispers to him. As he listens, his hands roam her tiny frame with intimate familiarity.
They’re definitely back together.
“You may not see what I see.” Jarret’s voice yanks my attention back to him. “But you see her, and you know there’s something extraordinary there. Something rare and priceless and worth protecting.” His jaw flexes. “Here’s a free tip for your bullshit story. I love that girl more than life itself. I can’t even fathom playing a part in the brutality inflicted on her that night.”
Crystal-clear sincerity sharpens his tone, his eyes glowing with devastation. I believe him, but I know he’s involved in something. Something illegal. I just don’t know how deep it goes. Yet.
In a blink, he’s off the chair, breaching my personal space with his arms bracketed around me.
“She’s been though more hell than you can comprehend in your privileged existence.” He seethes at my ear. “If you exploit her suffering, I will ruin you.”
“Don’t you dare threaten me.” My blood goes hot, burning my cheeks. “Step the fuck back.”
His pupils swallow the golden hues of his eyes, and his lips stretch into a humorless, wolfish smile.
“You got some fire beneath those prissy clothes.” He returns to his chair.
I thought my clothes made me look professional. I’m either ridiculously transparent or he’s really good at reading people. Unfortunately, I don’t have any casual clothes among the few things left to my name.
“You just met me.” I straighten my spine and meet his gaze head-on. “Yet you condemned me the moment I approached. You don’t know a damn thing about my existence, privileged or otherwise.”
“Fair enough.” He rubs a thumb along his bottom lip, searching my eyes. “Enlighten me.”
“What do you want to know?” I glance at Jake and Conor, where they burn up the dance floor with their eye-fucking, hip-grinding, disgustingly-in-love embrace.
“Which side of the bed do you sleep on?” he asks.
“What?” I whip my head toward him, expecting a taunting smirk.
“You heard me.” He stares at me steadily, dead serious.
Last time I owned a bed, I slept on the right, snuggled up to the man I loved. But that’s an ugly story, not appropriate for current company.
“I don’t have a side,” I say honestly. “You?”
“Same. Where is this bed of yours?”
“Chicago.”
His gaze darts to Conor, eyebrows gathering.
“I know she lived there a few years ago, but it’s a big city.” I chew my lip and give him the truth. “None of you were on my radar until recently.”
“How did you hear about us?”
Since he sees right through me, I won’t lie to him again. So I answer with a non-answer. “I have my ways.”
He continues to watch Conor dance with his brother, and a pinch of envy twinges in my gut. She’s a lucky woman to be cared for so deeply by two protective, insanely attractive men.
“Are you in love with her?” I ask.
His eyes slide to mine, the only part of him that moves. “You’re not very good at your job.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I’ve been straight with you, and you still don’t get it.” His stony expression chills me to the bone. “I consider her my sister, and I protect what’s mine. It’s time for you to leave.”
“You don’t own this establishment.” I stare him down with the recklessness of a woman who has nothing left to lose. “Good luck kicking me out.”
His silent glare confirms what I already assumed. He doesn’t like me. That bothers me, but I don’t blame him.