Cowboys-Dont-Dance (12 page)

The music stopped, and the judge walked to Jesse and Lydia. He stood between them and lifted their arms high in the air.

“We won! We won!” Lydia jumped and startled the judge who stepped back. Angela couldn’t take her eyes off of the spectacle Lydia was making in the center of the dance floor. She wrapped her arms around Jesse’s neck and pulled his face down to hers. Her lips joined his in a long, tongue tangling kiss.

Angela tried to pretend it didn’t matter. It was a kiss for show, but when Jesse wrapped his arms around Lydia’s waist and seemed to be returning her kiss, Angela snapped.

Try as she might, Angela couldn’t stop the tears. The kiss went on and on, and Angela realized her heart had broken into a million pieces. She’d been such a fool. She’d given Jesse her heart, mind and body, and he had used her and blown her off. The kiss was proof enough for Angela. She turned and ran for the door.

She ran and ran, sobbing hard, choking on her tears. She barely made it behind the nightclub before she lost her dinner. How could she have been so stupid? Why did she love him so much? Why and when had she convinced herself Jesse loved her?

Just because they had sex every morning after his dance lessons didn’t mean he loved her. He’d never said he did. She’d been the only one making love. Jesse had been in it for the sexual gratification.

Fool. Fool. Fool.

* * * *

“Did you see where Angie went?” Beau asked Lydia and Jesse.

He had left for five minutes to get another round of Coronas from the bar and see if he could connect with the blonde waitress sporting ten Ebook piracy is stealing. It is a federal offense.

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or twenty shot glasses on her vest. A gun belt at her waist held two bottles of whiskey in each side holsters instead of a firearm.

The outfit was eye-catching and sexy as hell. She had long, perfect legs in thigh-high boots, seriously short shorts, and an amazing set of breasts that threatened to fall out of her full sports bra.

It wasn’t his fault he’d been distracted. Blame it on the waitress.

She’d distract the coldest of men.

Jesse shrugged. “She seemed kind of quiet tonight. I hope she’s okay. Maybe she went to the restroom?”

“Who cares? Maybe she met a hot guy and decided to bail on us,”

Lydia said flippantly.

“That’s not like Angie,” Beau said.

“No, it’s not. Maybe we should look for her,” Jesse responded.

“I’ll go check by the restroom and see if she’s there.” The legs of Beau’s bar stool made a scraping sound as he pushed away from the table. Jesse had his hands full with Lydia tonight. Beau's job tonight was to make sure Angela had fun.

Angela hadn’t been herself the past couple of weeks. Instead of her usual cheerfulness, she’d been reserved and silent.

She was his baby sister, and he worried about her when she wasn't happy. Beau went to the ladies restroom and stood by the door, looking around the hallway. A quick debate entered his mind. To go in or not to go in? Then a young woman approached, and he realized it may not be necessary for him to plunge into sacred country.

“Can you do me a favor?”

“Depends on what the favor is. I usually don’t help men who stalk the women’s restroom.” The redhead favored him with a flirtatious smile even though her voice held a sarcastic bite to it.

“Hate to disappoint you, but I need to know if my sister’s in there.

Her name is Angela. Can you check for me?”

“Sure, sugar.”

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Beau waited patiently, watching the door while several ladies entered and several more left the room, until the lady he’d asked to check for Angela exited.

“Sorry, man. She’s not in there.”

“It’s okay. Thanks for looking. She’s probably around here somewhere.” He turned to leave, but she stopped him.

“You know…I wouldn’t mind keeping you company until you find her.”

“I’ll take a rain check. Thanks anyway.” Normally he might consider the offer, but Angela’s uncharacteristic behavior worried him.

It wasn’t like Angela to take off without saying something to someone. The nightclub was packed, and it took him a while to realize she wasn't inside. Visions of a man forcing himself on Angela, his hands pawing her body, made Beau sick to his stomach.

No one had better be touching her or there was going to be hell to pay. Things could get real ugly, real fast. Beau made his way toward the door, shoving people out of the way as he went.

Ah hell. No sight of Angela from the front steps. It was dark, but still warm. The heat radiated from the asphalt. He patrolled the parking lot circling the building, careful to check out the groups and couples, searching faces for Angela.

Beau scratched his head. She could have come outside to use her cell phone. He could be worrying for nothing.

She had to be fine. He strolled around the back of the bar.

“Angie!” She didn’t answer, but he heard a woman sobbing. He searched the dark and found her curled up in the fetal position against the building.

He ran to her, scooping her up in his arms. “What the hell happened? Are you okay?”

“No.” Her sobs made it difficult to understand her.

“Did somebody hurt you, baby?” Other than swollen eyes from crying, she didn’t look any the worse for wear.

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“I'm so stupid…Jesse…”

“Jesse, what? Did he hurt you?”

She continued sobbing, and Beau began to wonder if he'd misunderstood her. Jesse would never hurt Angela.

Angela scrubbed a hand over her face and left a streak of dirt behind. She shuddered and sniffed. “I don’t want to talk about it. I just want to go home.”

“Okay, honey. I’ll take you.” He'd get her home and into bed, but when he got his hands on Jesse, he'd squeeze the life out of him if he'd hurt Angela.

Friend or not, Jesse was a dead man.

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“Angie, open your door!

Jesse sounded pretty pissed, but Angela wasn’t in the mood to put up with him or his lies. “Go away!” She pressed her forehead against the cool wood and prayed Jesse would go away, and yet she hungered for him. She wrapped her hand around the doorknob, but couldn't bring herself to turn it.

“No way. Now open this door!”

“Go away! I’m sick.” She was sick. Sick at heart.

“I don’t believe you. Angela, I demand you open this door…now!” His booted foot hit the door with a loud thud.

“Your scare tactics aren’t going to work, Jesse. Go away and leave me alone.”

“If this door isn’t open by the count of ten, I’m going to knock the sucker into Christmas.” His boot hit the door again, and the wood made a cracking sound. “One…two…three…”

Angela couldn’t stand the suspense, but she let him count all the way to nine before she whipped the door open. Jesse flew past her as if he’d been shot from a cannon. He kept going until he ran into the wall across from the door, barely missing the TV. Angela stood, hand on the doorknob and watched Jesse slowly sink to the floor. Next to him lay a small brown paper bag.

He put his hands to his head and frowned. “What the heck is the matter with you, Angie? Why’d you do that?”

“Do what? I didn’t do anything. You did it all by yourself. I opened the door like you demanded. It’s not my fault you lost your balance and couldn’t stop. You were about to ruin a perfectly lovely Ebook piracy is stealing. It is a federal offense.

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mahogany door.” Angela slammed the door shut and something outside on the porch fell with a crash. Her landlady was going to have a canary. Everything on the porch was an antique.

“Oh, shoot. My head. I’ll never be the same again.”

“Funny, I don’t see any blood.” Angela kicked out, connecting with his knee.

Jesse howled. “My knee! Oh Jesus Christ, that hurt.” He wrapped his large hands around the injured knee.”

Angela brushed at the tears forming. She was not going to cry.

“Sorry, Jesse. It couldn’t possibly hurt as much as you’re letting on.

I’m wearing ballet slippers.” She hadn’t meant to hurt him. No matter how dense he was, she loved him. Fiancée or not.

Jesse massaged his knee. “I’ll be lucky if I can stand.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Jesse. Grow up. I barely tapped you.”

“Yeah, well, tell it to my knee.”

“Don’t raise your voice to me, you jerk.” Angela planted her hands on her hips and tapped her right foot.

Jesse groaned. “Will you please get me some ice and help me off the damn floor?”

“I’ll think about it.” Jesse moved his leg, and Angela was shocked to see he was aroused. How could he be in the mood for sex at a time like this? He was supposed to be in pain.

She was afraid to put out her hand and touch him for fear she’d forget why she was angry with him.

Jesse held out his hand. “Please, Angie. Help me up.”

Oh no. She couldn’t let this happen, yet again. Every time they touched, they seemed to just fall into bed together. She had to be strong enough to not let that happen.

Angela tried to control her trembling. She couldn’t touch him.

Couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Yet, she found her hand wrapped in his large, calloused hand. He was so warm, so vital and so tempting.

She braced her feet and pulled. Jesse grimaced when he was finally on his feet.

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“Your knee?”

“Yeah. Hurts like hell. You got anything for pain around here?”

Angela slid her arm around his waist and helped him hop to the couch where he flopped down like a limp ragdoll.

Angela bit her lower lip. “I probably have something left over from when I tore a muscle a year or so ago.” She jumped back when Jesse acted as if he was going to pull her down on his lap. “I’ll go look, but I can’t promise you anything stronger than an Ibuprofen.”

“At the moment, I could give a rip. I’ll take whatever you can find, plus the ice.”

Angela cringed inside. He actually sounded like he might be in pain. It wasn’t her fault. It was his for kicking the door and flying across the room. Idiot. A little pain would do him some good. After all, Jesse had done more than hurt her. He’d broken her heart.

Jesse’s face and eyes told Angela he wasn’t faking. She hurried to the kitchen. In the cabinet above the sink she found some old pain meds from her injury. The label said the pills had not expired. She opened the bottle. There were enough pills to kill a small horse. One wouldn’t hurt Jesse, but two might put him out like a light.

Angela was grinning when she dug in another cupboard for a large Ziploc bag. She filled the bag halfway full with ice cubes and wrapped the bag in a clean dish towel. She poured him a glass of water and returned to the living room. Jesse was stretched out on her ancient sofa, head propped up on pillows with his arm behind his head. His legs were too long for the couch so his feet rested on the arm at the other end. At least he'd taken off his boots and wouldn't ruin the fabric. He’d unbuttoned the first two buttons on his shirt. If he planned to torment her, he was doing a darn good job. Her eyes slid down his body.

Holy cow, he was still aroused. If anything, he was larger than when she’d left the room.

Damn him. What was he playing at? Had he forgotten dear Lydia?

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Angela slapped the ice bag on his knee, and Jesse howled.

“Hey…what are you trying to do, Angela? Kill me?”

“Oh, sorry. Is there anything else I can get for you, master?”

“No need to be such a smart ass.”

“Here,” she said, handing him two pills and the water. “Take these. You’ll feel better in a few minutes.”

She wasn’t going to look into his eyes. “Um, Jesse…what’s in the bag?”

Jesse laughed. “Your panties. You left the bag in my truck the other night.”

“Oh.” Great. One more nail in her coffin. His mother thought she was a whore, too. How lovely.

“Hey, don’t look so upset. Mom knows better than to say anything. She was mad, but she’ll get over it.”

“Well, I won’t. It’s humiliating.”

Jesse grabbed Angela’s hand. “Sit down next to me, and we’ll talk this out.” He scooted back and turned on his side to give her some room. “Come on, Angie. Sit down. You’re acting kind of strange today. I thought everything was great between us. Did something happen when you left the bar the other night?” He ran a hand up and down her arm so gently the fine hairs on her arms stood on end.

Angela refused to be drawn into his sexual web. Instead, she moved away from him and sat on the edge of the chair across from the sofa. She was not going to touch him. His body gave off so much electricity. His presence filled the room with his essence and heat.

“Yeah…Well, you were wrong. Nothing is
great
between us. It’s over, Jesse. I decided I can’t keep doing this anymore.”
It hurts too
much.

Jesse’s head dropped back on the arm of the sofa, and he rubbed his hand over his face, brushing his hair back. The room’s heat rose a few degrees, and Angela was tempted to turn on the air-conditioner.

She would have, but a storm had blown through overnight and dropped the temperature into the fifties.

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