Red-Hot Texas Nights Read online

  She couldn’t wait months to find out if her recipe would even pay off. She needed money now, or at least the promise of it sometime in the near future, and so she had to meet with Mark before he left and present a viable product that was sure to snag his interest.

  In order to do that, she had to have another sample as potent as the first by next Friday.

  Otherwise, she was screwed.

  “My mash will be ready to run next week and I need someone to run it,” Brandy told the woman sitting in the passenger seat of the old Buick.

  “So wait until it’s ready and just leave it on the porch.” Ellie eyed the bare bulb surrounded by bouncing June bugs. “Kenny Roy will know what to do with it.”

  “Maybe so, but I have to talk to him. I need to know that whoever is doing the actual distilling doesn’t alter or contaminate it in any way. I need quality control.” And a primo product.

  “You really think Kenny Roy is going to let you talk to his connection? Hell, do you think he even knows who’s actually running it? These guys are low-key. For all we know, Kenny drops it off to a guy who knows another guy, who knows another guy, and so on, until they get to the guy who actually runs the still.”

  “My point exactly. It’s passing through too many hands at this point. There needs to be one person overseeing everything at each step.”

  “And you think Kenny Roy is your person? The guy who wore Crocs to the last VFW dance?”

  She shrugged. “Not everyone likes to dance.”

  “Not everyone spends half his time stoned out of his mind to the point that he can’t dance. Kenny Roy is an idiot. A sky-high idiot.”

  “Exactly, which is why I’m going to ask the name of his connection and follow the trail straight to the source.”

  “That’s an even worse idea than talking to Kenny. You don’t know these guys.” Ellie slid Brandy a sideways glance. “What if they’re dangerous?”

  A question she’d asked herself a thousand times during the drive over. But she’d never been one to back down when she wanted something, and she wanted this.

  She needed it.

  And she needed it by next Friday.

  Brandy shrugged. “They’re businessmen and I’m going to make them a business proposition. They let me watch the entire process and I let them have all the spoils with the exception of one jar.” Her gaze met Ellie’s. “I need to make sure that I’m really on to something, that the first time wasn’t just a fluke, before I take this any farther. If the second batch is just as good as the first, then I’ll have something solid to present to the distiller.”

  Something that was sure to pay off.

  She reached for the door handle.

  Ellie’s hand stopped her. “I don’t know about this.”

  “I’ll be careful. I promise. Besides, we probably know the guys involved.”

  “Even worse. We’re not supposed to know who they are.”

  “It’s a small town. I’m sure everyone knows who they are. We’re probably the exception.” Because Brandy had always been the exception. She’d kept her nose clean back in high school, her focus fixated on the future. On perfecting her brownies and her cookies and her cakes. She’d ignored everything else, from the Friday-night parties to the romantic gossip, to who punched who during the occasional lunchroom brawl. She’d never paid attention to the stuff going on around her, or the people.

  Not that it had helped.

  She’d still managed to snag herself a reputation. One that had started back in the fifth grade when she’d started to develop well before all of the other girls. By the seventh grade, she’d been a full C cup. And by high school? She’d filled out a D and then some.

  She’d been every boy’s fantasy, and every girl’s enemy. The boys had chased after her and while she’d never let any of them catch her, it hadn’t mattered. They’d talked anyway. And spread rumors. People believed what they wanted to believe, and they’d wanted desperately to think that curvy, voluptuous Brandy Tucker was handing it out left and right.

  The truth—that she’d been a naive virgin—hadn’t mattered in the least.

  At first she’d tried to convince them otherwise. She’d dressed conservatively and kept the boys at arm’s length. All but one.

  One handsome, sexy, charming-as-all-get-out cowboy who’d taken her virginity and made her realize that she was every bit the bad girl that everyone thought.

  Not that she’d been ready to fly her crazy flag for the entire world to see.

  Not then and not now.

  She still walked the walk and talked the talk, denying her lustful nature to the world and playing the good girl.

  Most of the time.

  She tamped down the sudden memory of a hot mouth at her throat and strong hands roaming her body and concentrated on climbing out of the old car that had once belonged to her parents.

  Brandy had shared the car with her sisters until her grandpa had passed away. Then Callie had started driving his old truck, Jenna had landed an internship with a local vet that came with a company truck, and Brandy had gotten Bertha all to herself.

  She shut the door, gathered her courage, and started past the brand-spanking-new black Chevy pickup truck parked off to the side. Kenny Roy might be an idiot but he was obviously doing something right.

  Her gaze slid to the cowboy hat parked on the front dash of the truck and an image hit her. A tall, dark cowboy leaning over her, his hat obliterating the handsome contours of his face, his aqua-blue eyes gleaming in the darkness.

  A gaze so pale and translucent that it belonged in a brochure for the Bahamas or some other tropical paradise.

  She shook away the memory and kept walking, putting one foot in front of the other so fast it was a wonder she didn’t trip. But she wasn’t about to let her nerves fail her. She knew Kenny Roy. Knew what he was into.

  But she’d never seen it firsthand. Never shown up at his house on a Saturday night to score a joint or beg a jar of shine, even though the world might think otherwise.

  She’d spent her weekends at home with her sisters. Doing homework. Watching TV. Baking.

  Always baking.

  And if she wanted to keep baking, she needed to do this. Now.

  She drew a deep breath and mounted the steps.

  The porch light gleamed, pushing back the dusky shadows just enough to illuminate the rickety hinges and frayed screen door. A beaten-up metal milk can sat nearby filled to the brim with pungent cigarette butts.

  At least they looked like cigarette butts at first glance, but based on Kenny’s line of work she wasn’t placing any bets. An empty Frio Beer case sat nearby, next to several empty cans that had dropped and rolled here and there.

  Her foot hit one of the cans. Aluminum jumped and clattered, and a wave of nerves went through her. She steeled herself, balled her fist, and drew her hand back to knock.

  The minute her knuckles made contact with wood, the door swung inward and just like that, she found herself staring at a pair of incredible aqua-blue eyes edged in thick, dark lashes.

  Eyes that had haunted her more than one night since Tyler McCall had taken her virginity and a dozen of her prizewinning rocky road brownies and rolled out of town without so much as a text good-bye.

  CHAPTER 3

  Tyler had always considered himself one tough mother.

  Focused. Relentless. Game face firmly in place.

  Nothing rattled him. Not now when he drew the worst of the worst thousand-pound monster for his next ride. Or way back when his most admired teacher had told him that he was just poor white trash who would never amount to anything.

  Tyler didn’t stumble when life tossed something unexpected his way. He held his ground and kept his cool. He sure as hell didn’t stand there speechless, his heart pounding, the air lodged in his throat, and all because … damn, but it was her.

  Her.

  He stared into eyes as rich and fertile as freshly mowed grass and saw the flash of shock that mirrored his own. H
er full mouth parted on a startled gasp and he noted the slight tremble of her bottom lip. “Tyler?” she managed after a few frantic seconds. “Tyler McCall?”

  “Brandy.” He didn’t need to say her last name. There was only one Brandy in Rebel. Only one Brandy that stood out in his memory and crept into his thoughts when he least suspected it. When he held on for dear life and busted out of the chute or the moment he slammed into the ground after a grueling ride.

  He wasn’t sure why he saw her face. If anything, she was the last woman he should have thought of, particularly since she never spared him a second thought. Hell, she’d barely noticed him at all back in high school. She’d been too good for the likes of him and she’d made certain that he knew it.

  She’d ignored every smile. Every tip of his hat. Every lustful glance.

  Until that night, that is.

  She’d been more than responsive to him for those few hours, but then she’d morphed back into the same uppity-up. He’d known then that no matter how good the sex—then and now—it didn’t make up for the fact that she was a Tucker and he was a Sawyer, and no way was she going to buck tradition and get mixed up with the likes of him.

  Not in public.

  But behind closed doors?

  He was more than good enough for that.

  A fact that stuck in his craw even though the last thing he’d ever wanted was a relationship outside the bedroom. He liked his freedom even more than he liked sex and so he’d always kept things easy and uncomplicated.

  That hadn’t kept the women from trying, however. He’d had more than one chase after him over the years.

  But not Brandy.

  Never Brandy.

  That’s why he saw her at the craziest moments. She stood out because she was the only one who managed to keep things in perspective whenever they were together, to give him a dose of his own medicine, to keep it strictly sex.

  And while he sure as hell didn’t want her falling head over heels, the fact that she never had sort of bothered him. Enough to implant her firmly in his brain.

  Crazy, but there it was.

  “Is it Cooper?” Duff’s voice drew Tyler’s attention and he became acutely aware of the strange tingle in his gut and the all-important fact that he had a hard-on for a woman who probably wouldn’t piss on him if he were to catch fire right in front of her. Not in front of God and the good citizens of Rebel, that is.

  In private? Well, that was a different matter altogether.

  He stiffened, shifting his stance and letting the it’s all good grin he’d become famous for slide firmly into place.

  Because it was all good.

  It didn’t matter what Brandy Tucker thought of him. What anyone thought. All that mattered was that Tyler McCall was on his way to the top and nobody was going to pull him back down.

  “I didn’t know you were in town?” Her soft voice slid into his ears and sent a whisper along the length of his spine.

  “It was a spur-of-the-moment thing.” He shrugged. “I just got back today.” He arched an eyebrow at her. “Don’t tell me you’re here to score a little smoke off Kenny Roy?”

  Her shock eased into a distinctive frown, as if she’d just remembered why she’d never really liked him all that much in the first place. “Of course not. I don’t smoke.”

  He gave her a once-over that went from her head to toes and back up again. Nice and slow. The way he did with every woman. “You want to put twenty on the domino tournament over at the VFW Hall?”

  Her expression hardened. “I don’t gamble, either.”

  “So what do you want with Kenny Roy?”

  “That’s my business, not yours.” She glanced past him. “So? Are you going to let me see him?”

  “He’s not here.”

  Disappointment furrowed her brow and he had the insane urge to reach out and ease the worry lines with the pad of his finger. She seemed to think. “Any idea when he’ll be back?”

  He shrugged. “I wish to hell I knew.”

  “Since when did you start hanging out with Kenny Roy?”

  “Since I heard that he’s been hanging with my brother.” He ran a hand through his hair. “What about you?”

  “I’ve just got a few questions for him. Nothing big.” She glanced behind her toward her car as if trying to decide something. “I’ll just come back later.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea. You’d do best to steer clear of Kenny Roy.”

  “Since when do you tell me what to do?” She planted her hands on her hips. “I don’t need your permission. I’m a grown woman, in case you haven’t noticed.”

  Oh, he’d noticed, all right.

  Even if he hadn’t seen her in over two years.

  She was all woman. Lush. Sultry. Beautiful when she was stretched out on a set of flower-print sheets, her skin covered in a slick sheen of sweat, her body open and waiting.

  Two years, he reminded himself.

  While they might have hooked up from time to time whenever he made it back to town, he hadn’t been home since Cooper had gotten his driver’s license and started to fend for himself. Plenty of time for things to have changed. A woman like Brandy wasn’t meant to keep her sexuality bottled up. And while she’d always done her best to do just that, he couldn’t imagine her not going back for more with somebody.

  His gut tightened and he eyed her. “Does your boyfriend know you’re out slumming without him?”

  “Does your girlfriend know you’re out harassing women without her?” She stared him down as bold as ever.

  As sexy as ever.

  The seconds ticked off until a grin finally got the best of him. She’d never had a problem standing up to him. No matter how much of a bastard he was being.

  He shook his head. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

  She nodded. “Well, I don’t have a boyfriend.”

  The words stirred a rush of relief and he felt his body relax considerably.

  A crazy reaction for a man who prided himself on keeping things loose and easy with all women.

  Even this one.

  Especially this one.

  “I figured you might have settled down by now,” he murmured.

  “You figured wrong. I’m still flying solo. Not even a dog. Unless you count the strays that Jenna keeps bringing home. She landed an internship with the Rebel veterinary clinic.”

  “She always did like animals.”

  “Um, yeah. So I guess I’d better get going. I’m giving Ellie a ride home.” She motioned behind her toward the old car parked in the gravel drive and the shadow of a woman sitting in the passenger seat. “She’s my baking assistant. At my bakery.” She pushed a strand of blond hair behind one delicate ear as she turned back toward him. “I, um, have a bakery now. I opened up about six months ago.”

  “I heard. Congratulations. You finally got what you always wanted.”

  “I did.” She stared him square in the eye and he saw the shimmer in her pupils. “I got exactly what I wanted.”

  Silence stretched between them for several long moments, as if she couldn’t decide what to say next. The moment awkward. The way it always was when they weren’t humping each other’s brains out.

  “Well, I guess I’ll come back later,” she finally murmured.

  “Again, I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

  Her gaze narrowed ever so slightly. “Again, I don’t think it’s any of your business.” She turned then and started back down the porch steps. “If you see Kenny Roy, tell him I’m looking for him.”

  “Not gonna happen, sweetheart.” Her shapely butt swayed with each step. His gut tightened, and the words were out before he could think better of them. “But maybe I’ll stop by the bakery before I leave. I’ve got a sudden hankering for a good brownie,” he added, not that he was remembering the decadent bite of chocolate she’d given him as a parting gift after their last encounter.

  No, he was thinking about the sweet, mesmerizing taste of her.
The way she’d squirmed against his mouth. And clawed at his shoulders. And begged for more.

  For him.

  “You’d better make it early then,” she tossed over her shoulder. “I’m usually sold out by noon.”

  “I’ll bet you are,” he murmured, his gaze hooked on the voluptuous side-to-side of her denim-clad ass. “I’ll just bet.”

  CHAPTER 4

  “Who knew Kenny Roy had such cute friends?”

  “If by cute you mean a sneaky man-whore who sails back into town without so much as a phone call, then um, yeah, I guess Tyler McCall fits the bill.”

  The minute the words were out, Brandy wanted to snatch them back. So what if he hadn’t called to tell her he was back in town? It wasn’t like he ever called. He showed up. She showed up. And the fun began.

  They were strictly sex buddies. No strings attached. No explanations needed.

  Just two people enjoying the company of each other behind closed doors.

  She just hadn’t counted on the crazy emptiness she’d felt when he’d left this last time, and stayed gone so long that she’d almost stopped counting the months.

  Almost.

  “I meant cute”—Ellie’s voice pushed into her thoughts—“as in cute. You know, nice hair, good body, handsome face.” Ellie slid her a sideways glance. “Vent much?”