Sharp Shootin' Cowboy (3 page)

“Yolanda and Rafael seem to have hit it off,” she remarked, eager to keep the conversation on neutral ground.

Reid was slouched back in his chair watching the room. “Garcia's a good man and a helluva marine, but he likes to play fast and loose.”

“Then they're well matched. Yolanda's a party girl.”

“What about you?” he asked. “You don't seem the party-girl type.”

“Me? No.” She laughed. “I'm a bookworm and a certified monogamist.”

He took a sip of his beer. “So am I. The monogamy part, not the bookworm. Hated school. It's why I joined the military instead of college.”

She snorted. “You really think I'm gonna buy that monogamy line?”

“Not trying to sell it. Just stating a fact. I've been with two women in my life.”

“Two?”

“Yeah. The first was my best friend's older sister, and the second was my younger sister's best friend. We dated for a coupla years after high school.”

She still didn't believe him, but curiosity got the better of her. “Best friend's older sister? So you were seduced by an older woman? This I gotta hear.”

“I don't kiss and tell.”

“Really? But isn't that all you guys talk about in your down time? Getting laid?”

“I don't deny there's a lot of that kinda talk, but you gotta understand how it is. We're deployed for months at a time. We're physically and mentally pushed to the brink. A man's got to have something to look forward to. Under those conditions, it's usually the thought of a woman.”

“So you're trying to justify filthy talk as a morale booster?”

“I s'pose so.” His gaze met hers and then dropped back to the table. “You'd best push that drink over here now.”

“Why? You want some?”

“No, they're checking IDs. Don't—”

His warning was too late. Haley had already turned around. The glare of a flashlight blinded her. “Crap,” she muttered.

“Hands on the table please.”

She set her teeth with a sense of impending disaster. The bouncer directed the beam of light to her hands. “No bracelet?”

“It must have fallen off.” Her lie wasn't remotely convincing.

The bouncer shone the light in Reid's face. He tipped his hat back. “There a problem?”

“Yeah. We enforce the drinking laws here.”

The flashlight darted over the beer bottle and half-full martini glass that sat in front of him, then back to Reid's face. Sometime during the confrontation, Reid had managed to slide her cosmo to his side of the table. Maybe she was off the hook after all.

“You a two-fisted drinker?” the bouncer asked.

“Yeah,” Reid offered, wooden-faced. “Those are both mine.”

The bouncer picked up the glass and sniffed. “What kinda pussy drinks a cosmo?”

Reid's jaw twitched, but his voice remained level. “I guess that would be me.”

“Yeah? What about the lipstick on the rim? You wear that too? I wanna see some ID. Now. Asshole.” His hand came down on Reid's shoulder.

Reid's gaze tracked to the hand and then returned to the bouncer's face. His expression grew deadly. “I advise you to remove your fucking hand from my shoulder before I remove it permanently from your wrist.” His threat was slow, soft, and crystal clear.

Haley felt an unexpected thrill. She blamed the alcohol.

The bouncer beckoned to the cop making rounds at other tables.

“Shit,” Haley murmured under her breath. Now her recklessness was going to get them arrested. She felt a sudden surge of guilt. Other than kissing her, Reid had behaved impeccably all night. The guy certainly didn't deserve a black mark on his record.

“The drink is really mine,” Haley blurted to the cop.

“She with you?” he asked Reid.

“Yeah. She's with me.” He volunteered his military ID card.

The cop's expression softened infinitesimally. “What company you with?”

“The one-three, officer. Just finished scout sniper training and getting ready to redeploy.”

“Oh yeah? You've already done a tour?

“Two. The last was in Anbar province, Iraq. Looks like we're going back for another round of that shit.”

“Yeah? I was a gunnery sergeant with the one-one in Desert Storm.” He shone the light on Haley again. “Your boyfriend here just saved your ass, girlie, but you'll both be leaving now. See them out,” he instructed the bouncer and then moved on to another table.

“But—but I still have a friend inside. We came together,” Haley protested.

“C'mon.” The asshole bouncer took her by the arm.

“Big mistake.” Reid stepped in. He had little tolerance for bullies, let alone one who'd lay hands on a woman. “Hands off her. Now. I already told you what I'd do, and I'm about itchin' to make good on my promise.”

Chest puffed, the bouncer moved into Reid's space. “All you marines think you're such badasses, don't you? The minute you put on the uniform, you're fucking Superman.”

Reid shrugged. “The Corps' reputation speaks for itself. A marine is your best friend or your worst enemy…and I ain't exactly feeling the love right now.” He wasn't the brawling type, but Reid never backed down when pushed to the wall. “This is your last warning,” Reid threatened.

The bouncer met him stare for stare. “You're gonna have to knock me down.”

Reid tensed. He knew the musclehead had a good forty pounds on him, which might give him the advantage of brute strength, but he'd be slow and clumsy. He'd have to strike first and fast. The dumbass would never know what hit him.

He was about to do just that when Haley interposed herself between them, hands anchored on her hips. “This is ridiculous. Do heightened testosterone levels kill brain cells or something?”

Both men stared down at her dumbfounded, their mutual antagonism temporarily forgotten.

“Let's just go, Reid.” She grabbed his arm, dragging him in the direction of the door. Reid hesitated, his eyes never leaving the bouncer. For a moment the asshole looked like he'd follow them out, but then turned away with a shrug.

Once outside, Reid shook his head with a chuckle.

“What's so funny?” she demanded.

“Just taking a mental inventory,” he replied. “First, I get my ass kicked at pool. Then, I barely escape arrest for contributing to the delinquency of a minor. After that, I'm harassed by an overzealous, steroid-enhanced gorilla looking for a brawl, which by the way, would have landed me in the brig. All this within two hours of meeting you. You are a whole lot of trouble in a tiny little package, Haley Cooper.”

“I never should have involved you,” she replied, looking contrite.

“It's all right,” he said. “To be honest, I can't even remember the last time I got thrown out of a bar.”

“It wasn't my intention to cause you any trouble. I'm really sorry.”

“I'm not,” he countered. “Just wish I'd gotten at least one punch in. That bouncer deserves to get his ass kicked.”

“Let it go. It's bad enough as it is. They're not going to let either of us back in that place for at least six months.”

“Does that bother you?”

“Well, no,” she confessed. “I hate clubs. I'm just glad Yolanda wasn't there. She would have throttled me if she got banned from her favorite trolling spot.”

“Then it is all for the best,” Reid said.

“Why's that?”

“Now she can't drag you back here again. Problem solved.”

His answer elicited a laugh. He liked the sound.

“But what about you?” she asked. “You can't come back either.”

“Doesn't matter to me. I don't dance, and there're plenty of better drinking holes a lot closer to base. Besides, I'm gonna be gone for the next eight months anyway.”

“Iraq?” she asked. “I heard what you told the cop. You've already been there?”

“Yeah. I've been to that hellhole.”

“And now you're going back again?”

“Yup. Jarheads are all stupid as shit like that. We believe in completing the mission. Can I drive you somewhere?”

She considered the offer. “Yolanda brought me, but I'd hate to ruin her night by asking her to take me home so early. On the other hand, I live forty-five minutes in the opposite direction from you.”

“I don't mind.”

“What about Garcia? Didn't you ride together?”

“He's smart enough to dial a taxi. Where do you live?”

“San Jacinto.”

“My truck's over there.” He pointed and then settled his hand on her lower back for the second time that night. Her skin was warm through the cotton dress, yet she shivered.

“Cold?” he asked.

“It's a bit chilly, but nights are always cold at this elevation. I should have brought a jacket.”

“I keep one in the backseat of my truck. You can borrow it.”

They walked across the parking lot in silence broken only by the crunch of gravel underfoot and the music blaring from inside the club. He clicked his key fob to unlock the truck.

“This is your ride?” she asked.

“Yeah, it's mine.” He was glad he'd had his F-350 washed and detailed. Although he didn't own a lot, he tried to take good care of the few possessions he had.

She eyeballed his pride and joy with disapproval. “Do you have any idea how wasteful this vehicle is?”

He shrugged. “S'pose I know better than you do, since I tank it up every week.”

“Don't you care anything about the environment?”

“Look, Haley, before you get back on that high and holy horse of yours, remember where I come from. A Prius ain't exactly equipped for farm and ranch work.”

She closed her mouth.

He opened her door.

She hesitated again, a wall of wariness once more surrounding her. “You are just offering a ride, right? You aren't expecting anything else, are you?”

“Like what?” he prompted.

“A lot of guys would think—”

He shook his head. “You've got to stop painting all men with the same brush. No strings, Haley. I'm not that kinda guy. I just want to be sure you get home safe. That's all. Besides, it's only nine o'clock on a Saturday night, and I don't have any plans other than packing my stuff.”

“When do you leave?”

“Next week. You wanna send Yolanda a text to let her know you're leaving with me?”

“Do you mind?”

“Course not.”

She pulled out her phone while he retrieved his Carhartt jacket from the back. He suppressed a chuckle as he dropped it over her shoulders. The coat nearly swallowed her up. He handed her into the cab, circled around to the driver's side, and climbed in.

“Damn it,” she cursed. “My phone's dead!”

“Here.” He fished his iPhone from his shirt pocket. “Use mine.”

He waited while she typed out her text.

A moment later, the phone chirped. “Is that her answer?”

“Yes. She says go on ahead and not to worry about Garcia. She'll drive him back to base.” She added dryly, “You might have figured out she has a thing for guys in uniform.”

“A perfect match.” He grinned. “Garcia has a thing for girls with a thing.”

She laughed again. He could get used to that.

They headed toward I-215 north. In silence. She shifted frequently in her seat as if restless. The cab seemed smaller, the air heavier. He glanced frequently in her direction. He was feeling pretty edgy himself, but knew how to hide it.

“I make you nervous?”

“No! Of course not.” Her denial sounded too forced.

“Hungry?” he ventured at length. “It's still early. Want to go get a burger or something?”

“No thanks. I don't eat meat. People can survive perfectly well without killing animals for food.”

“Why doesn't that surprise me,” he mumbled.

“Mind if I turn on some music?” she asked.

“Go ahead. Anything but that hip-hop crap is fine with me.”

She looked up from the tuner. “You don't like it?”

“Nope. And I hate that kind of dancing too. Guess I'm kinda old-fashioned that way.”

“I don't like rap or hip-hop either.”

She scanned several stations. The breezy lyrics of “Breakfast at Tiffany's” by Deep Blue Something filled the air.
You
say
that
we've got nothing in common, no common ground to start from…
She grinned. “Apropos, don't you think? I agree with you on the dancing, by the way. If I'm going to copulate with someone, I'd rather do it in private than in the middle of a dance floor.”

“Copulate? Strange word choice. Sounds a bit…clinical.”

“Yeah, well, I guess my brain is trained to think in scientific terms.”

“Why's that?”

“I'm a biology major. Pre-vet actually. I've taken almost everything I can at Mt. San Jacinto Community College. I'll be transferring soon to UC Davis.”

“Oh yeah?”

“I
hope
to get into the veterinary college, but it's pretty competitive. I'm doing a summer internship at a wolf sanctuary to improve my chances.”

“A wolf sanctuary? In Southern California?”

“Yes. It's run by a group that wants to reintroduce wolves to California.”

“Yeah,” he scoffed. “Because that program's been such a raving success in the Rockies.”

“What do you mean? Conservationists have saved them from the brink of extinction.”

“Wolves have been saved all right. And if they keep multiplying at the current rate, it's our livestock that'll be on the endangered list.”

She crossed her arms. “People should eat less meat anyway. It's unhealthy.”

Reid cursed under his breath. “Ever been around a wolf, Haley?”

“No, but I've worked at dog kennels for years.”

“Wolves are
not
dogs,” he argued. “You need to get that straight from the start. Don't think that a wolf can be tamed or trained. Or even a wolf cross. They might be cute and furry, but they're damned dangerous animals.”

“They still deserve our respect and our protection. All animals do.”

“I don't argue that. I like and respect animals too, but predators like wolves and grizzlies need to be kept in check.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean their numbers need to be managed.”

“You mean by
killing
them?”

“When necessary,” he said.

“So you're one of
them
?” She shook her head. “Why should that surprise me? I can partly understand people who hunt game for subsistence, but the ones who consider hunting and killing pure sport are another matter.”

“There's something you need to understand before you pass judgment. I was born hunting, tracking, and shooting. I held my first rifle at about six years old. Killed my first elk at twelve. My family runs a hunting outfit just outside Yellowstone. It's been our livelihood for three generations. “

“And I suppose you have all those animal heads mounted on your wall as trophies?”

“I do. A whole roomful. And I'm not going to apologize for it. I like hunting and shooting, but I've never killed anything just for the hell of it. We eat all the game animals. And every predator I've ever taken has been at the behest of the Fish and Wildlife Managers. Trophy hunting helps maintain the ecological balance.”

“Nature did fine on its own until people like
you
almost wiped out the predators.”

“People like
me
?” He mumbled another epithet.

“Yes,” she declared. “And someone has to make it right.”

“And you think that's
you
?”

“Not me alone, of course, but there are a lot of people who care about wildlife and the environment.”

“So you're one of those green-living crusaders.”

His mockery put her further on the defensive. “Maybe I am, but certainly no more zealous than
you
are.”

He grinned. “So you're actually saying we're
alike
.”

She exhaled an exasperated huff. “Don't twist my words. There's a huge gulf of difference between you and me. I like animals
alive
, and you like their heads on a wall.”

“That's not fair and you know it. I've always been surrounded by animals. I was raised with dozens of dogs, cats, and horses. They've been a huge part of my life.”

“Then how can you hunt? I just don't understand it. Why kill wild animals when we raise millions of domestic ones for consumption?” She opened her mouth to sound off again and then closed it with a sigh. “I'm not going to convince you anyway, am I?”

“Nope. And there's no sense wasting any more breath on it. Let's just agree to disagree.”

“If we avoid all the things we disagree on, what's left to talk about?”

“We've hardly exhausted all the possibilities.”

“Next exit. Turn right,” she instructed. “Then left at the second light.”

They drove another mile in protracted silence.

“Turn here,” she said. “It's the first house on the left.”

He pulled into the drive, put the truck in park, and cut the ignition.

“Thanks for the ride, Reid. It was kind of you.” She reached for the door.

“Wait a minute,” he stalled. He didn't want her to go. Not yet. Although her opinions annoyed the hell out of him, her big green eyes drew him in. He'd never felt this kind of contradictory attraction before. Politics be damned; in this moment nothing mattered but his desire to taste her again. “Don't go yet. I want to try an experiment.”

Her gaze narrowed. “What kind of experiment?”

“A simple one. I bet if we tried real hard we could find a number of things we can agree on.”

She snorted. “I doubt it. We stand on opposite sides of every issue as far as I can tell. Besides, what's the point if we have to
try
? Most people connect over common interests and shared views. We have none of those.”

“Being on different sides doesn't necessarily make us enemies. Good people are allowed to disagree. Some of the best solutions to the hardest problems result from differing minds coming together, meeting in the middle. Humor me, Haley. How about we just start with one thing and see if we can't build on that?”