Flirting with Texas (Deep in the Heart of Texas) (3 page)

It was empty.

After dumping the entire contents of her tote out on the floor, she soon realized that a shoe wasn’t the only thing she had lost the night before. She tried not to panic, but it wasn’t easy. Not when it would take money to replace her phone, and when she didn’t know who was in possession of all her pictures, videos, and Internet passwords.

Jenna thought back to the night before. The last time she’d had the phone was when the driver had grabbed her. Once she’d elbowed him in the stomach, she’d slipped the phone in her tote bag. Which meant that she’d lost it in the carriage. No doubt, while wrestling with the cowboy.

Did he have her cell phone? Or had the driver discovered it later?

There was only one way to find out.

Dropping the empty tote, she hurried back into the bedroom. Davy’s jeans were on the floor where he’d left them. She pulled the cell phone from his back pocket. A text message came up on the screen—
Miss you already
. Since Davy’s band members were always screwing around with him, she ignored it and dialed her number.
The phone rang a good six times before it was picked up. The thick country twang that came through the receiver made Jenna instantly annoyed.

“Beauregard Cates speakin’.”

“I want my phone back,” she said.

“Hey there, Blondie.” His voice dripped with country boy charm. “I was wonderin’ when you would get around to callin’.”

Jenna could almost picture the smug smile on his face, and she gritted her teeth and repeated herself. “I want my phone back.”

“Of course you do,” he said. “And I’d like about two hours of my life back from the NYPD and that nosy reporter, but I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

“The cops arrested you?”

“No, they just questioned me and the carriage driver, who seemed to forget most of the details, including you trying to steal his carriage. What were you doing there, anyway? It wouldn’t have to do with the videos I found on your phone, would it? Are you one of those crazy animal activists?”

Jenna’s eyes narrowed. “You went through my phone?”

“Of course.” He didn’t sound the least bit sorry. “How else would I locate the owner? I thoroughly enjoyed the pictures of Coney Island, but I’ve got to tell you that the pictures you took of your girlfriend in her underwear were flat-out scary.”

Jenna went through her mind, trying to remember when she had taken pictures of Sophia in her underwear, and what other pictures and videos she had on the phone. It was disconcerting to think that some stranger was getting to view her private life without her consent.
Suddenly, another thought popped into her head that was even more alarming.

“I didn’t lose my phone, did I?” she said. “You stole it out of my purse on purpose. Who sent you to harass me? Is it Alejandro? Bruno, the owner of the Fresh Market? My landlord? The carriage driver’s boss?”

“Hold up there. I didn’t steal anything,” he said. “And just how many enemies do you have?”

She ignored the question, probably because she didn’t really want to know the total. With as many causes as she had gotten involved with since arriving in New York, the number could be staggering.

“That’s not important,” she said. “The only thing that you need to know is I’m not the type of woman who is going to be easily intimidated.”

He laughed. “I think I’ve figured that out already, and my calves have the bruises to prove it.”

“Well, you shouldn’t have been following me.”

“Who said I was following you? I just happened to be headed in the same direction as you were. When you slipped into the trees, I got worried that something might happen to a woman alone in a dark park. Obviously, I was mistaken. It’s the men who need to worry.”

Jenna sat down on the edge of the bed. Could he be telling the truth? After her last run-in with Alejandro where he threatened to fit her with a pair of cement shoes, she had become a little paranoid. But if he hadn’t been following her, then how had he ended up in the carriage?

There was a rustling noise before a groggy woman’s voice came through the receiver.

“Good mornin’, sugar.”

“Good mornin’, yourself,” Beau said with so much
sweetness that Jenna felt her stomach heave. The feeling intensified when the silence that followed was punctuated with a feminine groan of pleasure.

“Ohh, Beau.”

Jenna rolled her eyes. Everything made perfect sense now. The snug jeans and black Stetson. The flirty smiles and aw-shucks country boy charm. The exaggerated drawl and arrogant strut. Beauregard Cates was like every other horny cowboy Jenna had met in her lifetime. A horny cowboy who was a long way from home and hoping to get lucky in the Big Apple.

And it appeared as if he had.

Jenna heaved an annoyed sigh. “Look, since the newspaper said you were here for the rodeo, I figure you’re staying at a hotel. So just leave my phone at the front desk, and I’ll pick it up.”

When Beau came back on he sounded a little out of breath. “Didn’t your mama ever teach you the magic word, Blondie?”

Jenna’s mama had taught her the word. She just wasn’t good at using it. But if it got her phone back, she was willing to make the effort.

“Could you please tell me where you’re staying so I could come get my phone?” The words came out a little bitchier than she had intended, and he laughed. For some reason that she couldn’t explain, the deep, husky sound brought up images of wide-open spaces and horizons that stretched to eternity.

“You don’t like to give an inch, do you?” he said. “You remind me of this bull I once rode. Pissed Off was the stubbornest critter you’d ever want to meet.”

A bull? He’d just compared her to a bull?
It was truly
amazing how angry the man could make her. “Just give me my doggone phone back!” she snapped.

There was a long pause before his twangy voice came back on.

“I’ll think on it.”

He hung up on her.

B
EAU FLIPPED THE MENU CLOSED
and tossed it down on the table. For once, he didn’t feel much like eating. His shoulder still ached. His calves were sore. And he hadn’t gotten nearly enough sleep the night before. Not only because Peggy Sue snored like a sawmill, but also because his giddyup still had a hitch and he stayed up half the night mentally cussing out the woman who was to blame.

Jenna Jay.

His gaze narrowed on the skinny blond waitress who hustled from table to table, ignoring the fact that he’d been sitting there for a good thirty minutes. He realized it was probably payback for him hanging up on her and refusing to answer her calls. But the woman really rubbed him the wrong way—something very few women did—and her defiant tone this morning had been the final straw.

Okay, so maybe she wasn’t entirely to blame for his malfunction with Peggy Sue. But if she hadn’t stuck him with returning the carriage and dealing with her mess, he might’ve gotten back to the hotel room with enough of a hard-on to properly give Peggy a run for her money. As
it was, he was forced to use the “sex is bad for athletes” excuse and keep Peggy Sue happy with a little touch and tickle.

Fed up with sitting there twiddling his thumbs while he waited for Jenna Jay to notice him, he reached out and stopped the dark-haired waitress who passed by his table.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” he flashed her a smile, “but do you think you could get my waitress’s attention? I’m about to expire from hunger.” The woman only stared at him, forcing him to repeat the question. “My waitress?”

She blinked, then blushed a bright red. “Oh. Of course; I’ll just go get her.”

Beau watched as she turned and hurried over to Jenna, who was chatting it up with the little gangster-looking busboy who had broken more dishes than he’d cleared. The waitress whispered something in her ear, then pointed over at Beau. Jenna’s gaze pinned him, and he smiled and waved. A look entered her eyes that reflected the exact annoyance coursing through Beau’s body. He was just better at hiding it. With a grumbled reply to the waitress, she headed over.

In the sunlight that shone in through the window, the freckles on her nose were even more noticeable. And if it weren’t for those cold glacier eyes, she would resemble a ponytailed teenager in her lime green t-shirt and black pants.

“I’m assuming you found me from the work schedule on my phone,” she said.

“Something like that.” He held out the menu. “I’ll take the chicken sandwich minus the frou-frou sauce. And I’ll have French fries instead of apple slaw—whatever that is.”

She jerked the menu from his hand. “We don’t have fries. And I’d like my phone back… please.”

He had planned on giving her phone back. That was the reason he was at the restaurant and subjecting himself to her abrasive personality. But, for some reason, now he wasn’t in any hurry.

“Apple slaw it is,” he said. “And one of those strawberry smoothies.”

She strode off. For a skinny thing, she had more than a little wiggle in her strut. Too bad skinny women had never appealed to him. He was now convinced that his hard-on was due to the thrill of the runaway carriage ride more than the thrill of having a tomboy blonde in his arms.

This theory was confirmed when she continued to irritate the hell out of him.

Jenna seemed to give everyone else in the place great service, but him. She refused to bring him water. It took a good forty minutes to get his food. And when she did flip the plate and glass down in front of him, his sandwich was cold and his smoothie runny. He thought about sending it back and raising some hell with the management, but then he figured he didn’t need the aggravation. As much as the woman needed someone to put her in her place, it wasn’t going to be him. He didn’t have the patience or the desire.

Reaching into his front pocket, he pulled out her cell phone. Since she refused to glance his way, he nabbed another waitress and gave it to her to give to Jenna. Then he had the cashier total up his bill and paid with his credit card, flat refusing to tip for the bad service.

Once outside, his spirits lifted considerably. Having spent the day at the arena, he had the rest of the evening and night to do what he wanted. Maybe he would check out Times Square. Or do what Marty and Laurie had done and head on over to the Empire State Building.

“Hey, wait up!”

He might’ve stopped, if not for the Texas drawl that accompanied the words. He picked up his pace, but the annoying woman ran as well as she fought. Within seconds, Jenna Jay was next to him, her long-legged strides matching his.

“You didn’t finish your dinner.” She held out a sack and a paper cup with a lid and straw. When he ignored it and kept walking, she sighed. “Fine. I apologize for the way I treated you in the restaurant, but you could’ve told me that you planned to return my phone, instead of being such a jerk.”

“Who is the jerk?” He stopped and turned to her. “You attacked me in the park, took me for a joyride in a carriage and left me to explain to the police, and then called and accused me of stealing your phone. If this is the hospitality New Yorkers show visitors, then I want no part of this city.” He turned and headed up the street. Only a few seconds later, she followed.

“Where are you from in Texas?” she asked before taking a long sip of the smoothie. His smoothie.

“Don’t you have to get back to work?” He pulled his gaze away from the sight of her full, pink lips puckered around the straw.

“I’m done for the day.” She had no trouble keeping up with his quick stride. “I’d say east Texas by your accent. I used to live in west Texas in a little town called Bramble. My family still lives there.”

Now would’ve been the time to mention that he’d been to Bramble. In fact, he had lived there for a few months. And his brother, Billy, still did. But since the Cates brothers had been plotting the demise of the town at one time,
he figured it was best if he kept that piece of information to himself.

“How old are you?” Jenna asked.

The question had him glancing over at her. She was studying him, her eyes direct and rather disconcerting.

“Twenty-eight,” he said as he watched her take another sip from the straw. She sucked so hard that her cheeks dimpled in. A swirl of heat settled in his stomach, and he quickly reached out and took the cup away from her.

She swallowed and released a low whistle through her teeth. “Wow, you are premature.”

“What?”

“Your hair,” she clarified. “I’ve never seen someone so young with silver hair.”

If there was something that Beau was sensitive about, it was his hair. He had tried dyeing it once, but it grew out so fast that it hadn’t been worth the effort. Ignoring her comment, he tugged his hat lower and took a sip of the smoothie. And damned if it tasted nothing like strawberries, and just like cherries.

“Well, I better get home,” she said as she handed him the bag. “I’m Jenna, by the way.”

“Beauregard.”

She smiled. It was the first time he’d seen her smile. There was nothing special about it. No dimples. No flash of teeth. Just a simple smile that made her blue eyes sparkle with a contagious mischief. “Nice to meet you, Beauregard. I hope you enjoy your stay in New York.”

“Thank you, Jenna. If I can steer clear of Central Park, I’m sure I will.”

She laughed as she headed back the way they had come. After tossing the bag and cup in the trash, Beau
kept walking in the opposite direction. He’d gone no more than five steps when he glanced over his shoulder. As it turned out, at that very second, Jenna was doing the same thing. Their eyes met and held before they both turned back around.

Keep right on walking, Cates. The woman is nothing but trouble with a capital “T.”

Beau’s thoughts turned out to be prophetic when, a few seconds later, he heard Jenna’s loud bellow.

“Get your hands off me!”

Beau turned to find Jenna a half a block away, struggling with a mountain of a man who was trying to pull her toward a black limo parked by the curb. Beau took off at a sprint. Before he could reach Jenna, she kicked the guy in the knee and gained her release. The guy hobbled back to the car, and it squealed away from the curb. Beau arrived just as the little gangster busboy came running out of the restaurant.