Red-Hot Texas Nights (24 page)

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Authors: Kimberly Raye

BOOK: Red-Hot Texas Nights
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The gun pushed into his chest a fraction more, the finger on the trigger tapping ever so lightly, and every muscle in Tyler's body went on full alert. Brandy's breath caught behind him and he damned himself for rushing over and not getting her out to safety first. But he'd been looking for Cooper for so long …

“Get out of here,” Gator said, shoving the tip of the gun deeper into Tyler's chest for a long moment before pulling away, tucking the firearm into his waistband, and turning back to the pool table. “And take the kid with you.”

“What?” Cooper turned.

“You heard me. Get the hell out of here. Both of you.”

“But I thought you liked my driving.”

“It isn't about that,” Gator said, his gaze shifting to Cooper. “You're too smart to be so stupid, kid. A&M? Seriously?” He shook his head. “Go on and get out of here. Now.”

“Let's go,” Tyler told his brother. Cooper didn't look as if he wanted to comply, but then a glimmer of relief flickered in his gaze and Tyler knew that Cooper wasn't half as sure about giving up his future and sticking around to work for Gator Hallsey as he pretended to be.

“You can't tell me what to do,” he told Tyler before snatching up the keys and the money on the table and heading for the door. “You're not my boss.”

“You better nip that shit in the bud,” Gator told Tyler once Cooper had disappeared out the doorway. “You make sure he goes to College Station, even if you have to hog-tie him and haul him up there yourself.” The
clackkk
of pool balls punctuated the sentence.

“Why did you do that?” Tyler asked when the man pulled back to survey the table.

“Do what?” Gator chalked the end of his pool cue.

“Let him go like that.”

The bootlegger grinned, revealing a row of straight white teeth and a smile that had probably charmed many a female into the backseat of his souped-up car. “Maybe I'm just a nice guy.”

“Try again.”

His grin faded. “Maybe I know what it's like to want something for somebody more than he wants it for himself.” He turned then, his gaze catching Tyler's. “I had a brother once. I didn't keep near as close an eye on him as I should have. I won't get a chance to correct that mistake because he's gone. Cooper's alive and well and not a half-bad kid, and you're still in the game. Don't lose. And make sure he keeps his mouth shut about our recent business dealings. Or else.”

“Thanks.”

Gator didn't say anything. He just nodded, turned, and leaned over the table. The pool cue cracked again and a striped blue ball sailed into the nearest pocket.

Tyler turned, grabbed Brandy's arm, and headed for the parking lot. Cooper had already left, but Tyler had a good idea where to find him.

“You should have left when I first told you to,” he said a few minutes later as he fed her into a cab.

“And let you get shot? No thanks. I dodged one felony today. I'm not about to witness another.”

“And here I thought you were worried about me,” he murmured before brushing a kiss across her lips. One that lingered a little too long considering he was pissed at her and she didn't give a shit about him.

“Go easy on him,” she breathed against his lips before she pulled back and signaled the driver.

The cab grumbled out of the parking lot and Tyler ignored the strange emptiness that filled him. Instead, he headed for his truck.

Twenty minutes later, he pulled through the entrance of the Happy Times Trailer Park. Just as he'd hoped, Cooper's old truck sat in the driveway, the engine still running, as if the kid wasn't half as content right here in Rebel as he wanted Tyler to think.

He killed the engine, climbed out of his truck, and walked around to the passenger side of Cooper's ride. Opening the door, he climbed in and sat there for a few long moments next to his brother as he contemplated what to say.

“I made some good money.” His brother broke the silence first.

“I know you did. But it's not nearly good enough to warrant the risk. I know you think Gator and his buddies have it all figured out, but they do what they do because they have no choice. They don't have anything better waiting for them.”

“What makes you think I do?”

“You have a scholarship, for Christ's sake.”

“All contingent on how well I do each and every semester. Do you know if I blow it even one semester I could lose everything? If I can't keep up my grades, that's it.”

“And?”

“And I'll be right back here.”

“No, you won't. If you blow it, I'll pay for it.”

Coop shook his head. “I can't let you do that.”

“Then you get a student loan. A grant. We'll figure out something. If that situation even comes up. Right now, the possibilities are endless. It's all a matter of moving forward, of trying.”

“What about Mom?”

“What about her? She'll be fine. She's got enough money, and I'll make sure she doesn't go without. Beyond that, she doesn't matter, Cooper. She doesn't give a shit about us. She never did. And while I know you keep hoping for some moment of realization, some happily-ever-after where she realizes what a bitch she's been and decides to change her ways, sometimes things just don't work out that way in real life. Sometimes the best you can hope for is to change yourself, not anybody else. That's all we can do.”

Cooper didn't say anything. He just killed the engine, climbed out of the truck, and walked toward the trailer.

“You're going,” Tyler called after him. “And call Erin. She's been worried sick about you.”

His brother still didn't turn. Instead, he paused at the door, drew a deep breath, and then went inside. No doubt with his hopes high that maybe this time things would be different. That their mother would be different.

Fat chance.

Tyler damned the woman a thousand times and climbed out of the old truck. Walking back to his own Chevy, he climbed into the driver's seat and slammed the door.

 

CHAPTER 31

Tyler meant to head back to the rodeo arena.

His brother was safe and sound for now.

But the real test would come when he boarded the bus for Texas A&M in a week.

Would Cooper follow through?

The question haunted him and made him even more restless because he knew that if his brother lost his nerve and went back to Gator and his crew again, there wouldn't be a second out.

There would be nothing Tyler could do about it.

Just as he hadn't been able to keep his dad from walking out, he wasn't going to be able to keep Cooper from making the biggest mistake of his life.

The truth ate at Tyler as he hauled ass down the gravel road that led to town. But instead of turning down the main Farm Road, he found himself heading for the second turn that led away from Rebel, straight to Brandy.

She might not have gone home. Maybe she'd stopped off at the bakery. Or another bar. She could have gone someplace else to keep the party going.

She'd done it. She'd signed a deal with Foggy Bottom Distillers and now her future was set.

And his?

His shoulder ached from the last fall he'd taken on Junkyard Dog. One that Brett, himself, had witnessed and then chewed Tyler a new one about what he'd done wrong.

Too many things to count, but Brett could help.

He would help.

That was the other piece of good news.

But Tyler didn't feel so good.

He felt desperate. Uncertain. Anxious.

Was she out celebrating with another man?

While most folks might think so, Tyler knew better. He knew her. She wouldn't do that. While she might be interested in merely a good time, she wanted it with him.

He knew that much.

He felt it, and so he took the dirt road that led to the Tucker spread and the old Oldsmobile parked in the gravel driveway. Parking his truck, he climbed out and headed for the front steps. A quick knock and he waited.

She hauled open the door on the third knock. Wearing a pair of shorts and an oversized T-shirt, she looked soft and rumpled from sleep and he felt a moment's regret that he'd obviously pulled her out of bed.

Until her gaze met his and he read the raw need blazing deep in the depths of her eyes.

“What's wrong?” Concern edged out the hunger, and a strange warmth spread through him.

“I talked to Cooper,” he murmured. He didn't mean to tell her. He meant to push her backward and plaster his mouth against hers, no words required. But there was just something about the way she looked at him. As if she cared what he had to say.

What he felt.

“I don't know what's gotten into him. I told him what an idiot he's being, but he won't listen. He's got a quick way to some easy money and suddenly studying for the next four years doesn't have the same appeal. He doesn't realize that what he's doing is going to get him put away for a lot longer than four years.”

“He's still got a few days. He's smart. He'll wise up.”

“And what if he doesn't?” He voiced the one fear that nagged at him. That his brother would really and truly throw it all away. Just like their dad.

That Tyler would bust his own ass and do the same in Cheyenne.

“He will. You just need to give it some time. Trust me, my sister has made her fair share of mistakes, but she might finally be getting her act together. Just last night she swore to break up with her latest boyfriend face-to-face and straightforward. Talk about being spared six months of stalking.”

The wind trembled the bushes to her right. “And maybe not.” She grabbed Tyler's arm and pulled him inside before sticking her head back out and yelling, “She's not here. She had an all-nighter at the clinic.” The bushes trembled again and the sound of footsteps echoed and faded into the grumble of an engine.

“That should get rid of him for a while,” she said, turning back to Tyler.

“I'm sorry I didn't make it back to the apartment that night,” he heard himself say before he could think better of it. “I shouldn't have left you high and dry.”

She shrugged. “You changed your mind. It's fine.”

“I didn't change anything. I still want this.” His gaze collided with hers. “I want you.” And then he did what he'd wanted to do ever since she opened the door: He pulled her close and covered her mouth with his.

*   *   *

Sex, Brandy told herself, throwing herself into the single act of kissing Tyler McCall, desperate to ignore the strange feelings that had assailed her the moment she'd found him standing on her doorstep next to the old dusty swing where her parents had sat every Friday night.

One look at the rickety wood and she'd had the sudden vision of herself, barefoot and pregnant, rocking back and forth, Tyler next to her, no cakes or cookies in sight.

Like hell.

No matter how good he kissed. Or how he pulled her close and rubbed the base of her spine with his thumb until she wanted to melt onto her back and purr. Or how he held her close, his arms solid and strong and possessive, as if she actually meant more to him than a few moments of pleasure.

This wasn't about forever.

It was about this moment, this kiss,
this
 …

For the next few moments, she drank in the taste and feel of him, ran her hands up and down his solid arms, relished the ripple of muscle as he cupped her buttocks and pulled her closer, treasured the whisper of joy because they were together one more time. One last time.

The thought fed her desperation and she held on to him tighter as he rocked her, his hardness pressing into her. Heat flowered low in her belly, spreading from one nerve ending to the next until every inch of her body burned and sizzled like a match just struck.

She moaned into his mouth, communicating her need in a way that no words could touch. Without breaking the kiss, he swung her into his arms and headed down the hall for the nearest bedroom.

A few seconds later, her feet touched down in the small room she'd shared with Callie when they were children. Her sister had moved out once their parents had died, and Brandy had repainted the lime green with a bright pink that matched the bakery boxes she used at her shop. Frilly pink curtains framed the two windows that faced the side of the house. It was an ultrafeminine room that made Tyler McCall seem that much more masculine and dangerous by comparison.

A ripple of excitement went through her and she pressed herself up against him again. Need mounted and multiplied as she clawed at his shirt. He caught her wrists and pulled back, his grin slow and wicked and dangerous.

“Easy. We've got all night, sugar.”

“I've got to be at the bakery early for my apple loaves.”

“Early as in six or seven?”

“Four, so you'd better start undressing.” She meant to rip off her clothes and get busy, but then he touched her and her breath caught. Time seemed to stand still as he pulled her close. The hands that slid from her shoulder to her collarbone, and down, were strong and sure and possessive.

As if he were branding her his and only his.

Just as the thought struck, he touched the tip of her nipple through the soft fabric of her tee. The ripe tip throbbed in response and she barely caught the whimper that jumped to her lips.

He pressed a kiss to her lips then, coaxing them open with his tongue before delving deep for a long, heart-pounding moment. “I love every sound that you make,” he murmured when he finally pulled away. “Every gasp. Every whimper. Every cry.”

He pulled the shirt up and over her head, his hot fingertips grazing her skin, and she forgot everything except the need churning inside her.

Brandy closed her eyes and tilted her head back, arching her chest forward. She all but screamed at the first stroke of his callused thumb over her bare breast. The next several moments passed in a dizzying blur as he plucked and rolled her sensitive nipples, until they were red and ripe and aching for more.

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