Too Fast to Fall (Jackson Hole 1.10)

NATE PULLED INTO THE lot of the Crooked R Saloon, and his gaze was immediately drawn to the yellow Camaro parked in the far corner. He felt his left eye twitch at the sight. That woman and her damned menace of a car.

He should’ve given her the ticket. He’d sworn to himself that he would. After issuing that last warning, he’d ordered himself to have a steel will the next time she flew past him.

In fact, each time he stopped her, each time she drove away, he told himself that was it. He wouldn’t be lenient again. If she deserved jail time, the judge would give it to her. It wasn’t Nate’s responsibility to decide. She was a repeat offender. She deserved whatever she got, even if she was always cheerful and sweet and apologetic.

But yesterday he’d seen her flying by again, a bright flash of yellow that shot adrenaline straight into his heart, and despite his rage and frustration and impatience, his resolve had been as weak as paper. She’d flashed that slightly crooked smile and called him “Deputy Hendricks” as if it were a private joke they shared, and…

“Fuck,” he growled as he made himself turn away from her car and walk toward the front porch of the saloon.

What the hell was he doing here?

His brain had snuck up on him to issue a reminder that whatever excuse he had to be at the Crooked R, it was flimsy as hell. But he did have an excuse. His cousin had needed to meet with him, so why not here? It had been thirty-two hours since Nate had pulled Jenny Stone over, so it was time for a reminder about that driving class.

Sure, she’d promised. She’d even shed grateful tears. But he didn’t think for one minute that she’d called about the class yet. Why would she, when she had yet another chance to push him toward insanity? Instead of doing what he’d ordered, she’d probably attach floating neon lights to the under-carriage of her car and get her windows tinted before adding a sticker about pigs to taunt him the next time she flashed her bumper.

He was just another cop fooled by a pretty face. Hardly a rare breed. And now here he was, at her workplace like a hormone-addled fool.

Nate slid off his sunglasses and walked into the saloon, cursing himself every step of the way.

The place was packed. Five-dollar pitcher night, he realized belatedly. Not the ideal place to have a serious talk with his cousin. Then again, considering how worried Luis had sounded, maybe he’d appreciate the roar of background noise. Whatever it was, he’d made it clear that he couldn’t invite Nate over to his own house.

Nate glanced around, meaning to look for his cousin, but somehow searching out a blond ponytail at the same time. And there she was, out from behind the bar, delivering a tray of pitchers. He’d never seen her outside her car. He’d never made her walk the shoulder to check for any telltale signs of inebriation. Reckless as her speeds were, her car always followed every curve of the road perfectly. Even when she spotted his lights, she eased into the stop, edging just far enough over to be safe, and never far enough to veer too deeply into the soft slope next to the highway. Jenny Stone was dangerous, but not in that way.

No, her danger lay in an entirely different set of curves.

“Damn,” he cursed as his eyes roamed down her body. He’d gotten several nice glimpses of cleavage before, and had even wondered whether she’d purposefully set free a button or two as he approached. But he’d had no idea she’d been hiding a perfect ass the whole time. He almost cringed at the sight of it. Beautiful and plump and not at all good for his tenuous hold on sanity when it came to her.

And then she dealt another blow. His gaze traveled back up her body just as her eyes moved over the room. They paused on him for a moment, then moved on, no spark of recognition flashing. Not even a hint of it.

She had no idea who he was. He was just another cop when he was in his uniform, and nothing but a stranger in street clothes tonight.

“Perfect,” he murmured, vowing right then that he’d talk to his cousin and then get the hell out of this place before his pride was permanently damaged by his sex drive.

Looking away from Jenny Stone, he caught sight of Luis raising a hand from a back table and headed gratefully in that direction.

“Cousin,” he said as Luis flashed a tense smile and stood to give Nate a quick hug.

“Hey, Nate.”

Nate had hoped to start off on a positive note, but Luis didn’t look good. “You look like you haven’t slept in a week.”

Luis’s tense smile disappeared in a flash, replaced by a pained grimace that even his goatee couldn’t hide. “Shit, man. I don’t know what to do.”

“Is it James?” Nate asked, his thoughts immediately going to Luis’s fifteen-year-old son. A ripe age for trouble, even for good kids.

“Yes… No!” Luis said. Then his head dropped. “I don’t know. I’m really worried. I don’t think he’s gotten mixed up in it, but…he might have.”

“Mixed up in what? Please tell me you haven’t done anything stupid. I know the concrete business has been slow lately, but—”

“No, it’s not me. It’s… You know Teresa’s cousin Victor came to live with us last year?”

Nate frowned. He’d met the kid once, and had his suspicions, but he’d never said a word. Teresa was a wonderful woman, quiet and strong with a will of steel. If a family member needed help, she wasn’t going to ask more of him than clean language in the house and scrubbed hands when he came to dinner. “I remember,” he finally said carefully.

“Everything seemed fine at first. He wasn’t exactly a hard worker, but he’s nineteen, you know? He took the job I offered and showed up every day. Okay, almost every day. Maybe he was a little lazy, but I kept my mouth shut about it to Teresa, because…”

Nate nodded. Teresa was as traditional a wife and mother as they came, and if she’d taken Victor in as one of her kids, that was that.

“Well, he quit a couple of months ago. Said he’d found other work. He wasn’t specific, but he was paying his rent. Even bought an old car to get around in. Frankly, I was too relieved to ask any questions. I should have, though.”