Devil in Texass(18)

“Unfortunately,” he said as he pulled his keys from his front pocket, “you’re right

about that.”

“You okay to drive?”

George nodded. “I just had the one beer before the Scotch. But thanks for checking.”

“I don’t need your wife or the sheriff on my ass,” Jack said lightheartedly. “I’ve

racked up enough complications for one day.”

“City Council,” the other man reminded him. “Try to put as much effort into it as

you are the girl.”

Jack grinned again. “But the girl is so much more appealing.”

George snorted. “Trouble, indeed.” He turned and sauntered out of the bar,

chuckling along the way.

And leaving Jack with the disturbing feeling that he might be in over his head on all counts.

* * * * *

Liza wasn’t smiling when she awoke hours later to an incessant, annoyingly high-

pitched sound that instantly bugged the shit out of her. Lifting her head from her pillow and pushing back the long strands of chestnut-colored hair that covered one stinging

and likely bloodshot eye, she looked around the small bedroom and frowned.

What the hell was that noise?

Sitting up, she shoved the rumpled sheets off her legs—apparently having ditched

the duvet in her sleep—and stared out the window, listening carefully. There it was

again. Not just high-pitched, but also damn greedy. Ignoring the dull ache in her head that was her hangover, she climbed out of bed and peered through the glass pane. A tall tree sprouted skyward alongside the cottage. An elm, possibly? She wasn’t a nature

guru, didn’t know tree or flower species beyond the extremely obvious, like pines and roses.

One of the lower branches housed a nest of baby birds, all going absolutely nuts as

their mother returned with breakfast. Another bird squawked overhead, sounding

authoritative and distinctively asshole-ish.

“Good morning to you too, Peter,” she grumbled.

Moving away from the window, Liza padded along the cool hardwood floor and

entered the kitchen. The cozy cottage was comfortable. Hell, who needed thousands

and thousands of square feet, anyway? Peter had installed an intercom in his apartment so that he could reach her no matter which room she was in. That always seemed so

pretentious and creepy. Everything about them seemed that way now. They’d even

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Calista Fox

mimicked those ridiculous movie scenes where a couple sat at opposite ends of a

twenty-foot-long dinner table and called the wait staff in just to pass the salt.

The whole rocky relationship had been one big, fat façade. She could admit it now

that she had some distance from her former life.

That thought settled in her brain as she went into the bathroom, desperately

needing aspirin and a shower. She also had to brush the little booties off her teeth.

No more tequila for you, girlfriend. Ever.

She headed into the small bathroom, stripped down and stepped under the hot

spray of water.

A soft sigh escaped her lips. The shower was exactly what she needed. Well, not

exactly, but close enough for the moment. What she really needed was the sexy

cowboy’s hands on her body. Jack Wade had sparked the kind of lust and longing that

was all-consuming. It helped to take her mind off her bizarre impulse to move halfway across the country on a moment’s notice.

Thoughts of Jack also helped her to take another step away from her life with Peter.

It truly was a shame that she’d wasted so much time on someone who had never, not

even from their very first meeting, made her this hot and bothered. This in need of his touch and his too-amazing-for-words orgasms.

As she ran her soapy hands over her breasts, she thought of how wonderful it had

felt to be in Jack’s arms, his hard cock pressing against her belly, his mouth devouring hers. She closed her eyes as she rolled her tight nipples between her thumbs and

fingers, imagining it was Jack’s hands that pleasured her. Excitement skittered through her, making her clit tingle. But before she went so far as to slide a hand to her wet pussy and get herself off, she stopped.

Liza didn’t want self-gratification. She wanted Jack Wade.

The thought made her smile. Only Jack would do. And maybe today would be the

day he gave her exactly what she needed.

Emerging from the shower a good ten minutes later, she wrapped a plush towel

around her dripping body and swiped at the steam covering the fancy mirror hanging

above the vanity.

Her little rental was as posh as a five-star hotel. The only downside so far was the

incessant chirping outside, which had begun to grate on her nerves. Along with the

leaky faucet.

Once she’d dressed in a pair of loose black pants and a white lace tank top, she

dragged a brush through her hair and left it wavy and voluminous. Another blatant F-

you to Peter who always “preferred” she wear it straight and sleek, or pulled back.

While she applied a little makeup and lip gloss, the birds kept up their chatter. They were joined by friends.

Liza crossed the bathroom to the window, unhooked the latch and tried to lift the

window frame. It wouldn’t budge. She tried again, wanting to stick her head out the

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Devil in Texas

window and yell at the birds to shut the hell up, if for no other reason than snapping at them would make her feel better.

No such luck. As she fought with the white-washed wooden frame, what she

believed to be the doorbell rang. Abandoning her mission to throw something at the

birds to get them to move to another tree—far away from her windows—she passed

through the kitchen and living room. She unlocked the door, the anticipation of seeing Jack making her hurry. She pulled the front door open and lost her breath.

Liza smiled without even thinking about it. Jack’s eyes lit up with something akin

to excitement as his gaze swept over her. She stepped aside and said, with an

embarrassing amount of enthusiasm, “Come on in!”

Today, Jack wore a dark blue T-shirt tucked into his faded Levi’s. Dusty, tan suede

boots completed the ensemble. His dark hair was mussed, as though he hadn’t put

much effort into it, which made it sexy as hell. All in all, she found him to be even more appealing than last night. Possibly because she knew him this morning and liked the

person beneath the gorgeous veneer.

“Breakfast,” he said with that easy grin as he lifted the bag in his hand. “I brought a Texas favorite.” He walked past her, heading into the kitchen.

“Looks like you’ve got coffee too. That makes you my hero.”

He set the paper bag and thermos on the counter and asked, “How do you like the