Mastered By The Mavericks(48)

Should've taken El a couple of seconds to punch out a conspiratorial  snicker. No such sound came. "You may want to hold up on defrosting that  ice cream, party girl."

Shit.

"Why?" She didn't pull the doomsday demand from it.

"Well … when the guys first radioed, I assumed they did so from the comm station at the Blake ranch."

"Of course." She would've thought the same thing. "But now you think that wasn't the case?"

"Oh, I'm past the point of thinking it." El tossed out a darker, and  slightly apologetic, girl growl. "I'm pretty damn certain they took the  call wireless nearly from the moment we started, purposely muting their  end of the line so I couldn't detect any traffic noises, and be wise to  their little cahoots. A truck blared into the middle of one of Rebel's  questions. They cut the connection faster than Zoe tearing after a fruit  roll."                       
       
           



       

All the stress in the world couldn't have held back both their spitting  laughs. Zo's adoration for fruit rolls was legendary, no matter what  show they were in or where in the world they traveled. During rehearsals  that had redefined grueling and painful, the fruit roll jokes pulled  all three of them through, literally and figuratively. Whether it was  Zoe using the whole roll as a director's baton or El using scraps of the  sticky stuff as makeshift pasties, they'd never failed to shift Brynn  out of her pity party and back to work.

And right now, in the middle of what had to be the most bizarre day of her life, she needed the exact same kick in the tush.

She could've done without the nostalgic waterworks, though. "Damn it,  El." No use trying to hide her teary wobble. When El snickered again,  she snapped, "Ruthless bitch."

"Weepy wench."

"Camel toe queen."

"Sleep drool diva."

The tears dissolved into more laughter. "Okay, okay. I give up."

"Wise move, darling." El's preen was evident even over the miles.  "Though I must admit to being glad that we stopped that wheel on the  wedge of drool."

"Oh, no." She attempted another laugh. "I don't dare ask why, do I?"

It was almost a rhetorical question. El filled the next pause with the  smallest of hums-the kind always responsible for the hugest rips in  Brynn's gut.

Well … hell.

"Because if I'd been Facetiming with those boys instead of just yakking,  I would've seen drool stains on their chests … wouldn't I?"

Brynna never thought she'd be so happy to see red and blue flashing lights in the rearview mirror. "El-um-I-"

"Am avoiding the question? Uh-uh, missie. I need at least the Twitter  tease about this. Those guys were more into my answers about you than a  couple of bachelorettes at Thunder From Down Under. A hundred and forty  characters or less. Now."

"I have to pull over."

"Not necessary. We can hash out more later. Just strip to the basics-especially if that's what you did with them."

She couldn't figure out what qualified as more insane right now: Eleanor  Cordelia Browning's I-know-the-nasty-you-just-did ESP, or the driver of  the state highway cruiser that had slid in behind her. The officer  behind the wheel jabbed his hand out, ordering her to hitch a sharp left  back into the motel's parking lot with all the subtlety of Genghis  Khan.

"No, El. I'm really being pulled over. This guy has the highway patrol disco lights on and everything. Son of a-"

"Oh, gawd. Now I give. You always could act circles around the rest of us."

"I really have to go."

"Yeah, yeah. Okay, okay. You don't want to talk about stripping for the soldiers."

"El-"

"The subject is tabled, Monet, not dismissed."

"El!"

"Byeeeee!"

She disconnected the line while pulling into a parking space near the  room she'd paid for under the name Peach La Couer. She'd used it an hour  ago to change into the sexy pharma rep persona, but hung onto the  reservation in case Zoe needed a place to rest after they snuck out of  Adler's hellhole. It wasn't going to be easy, though she counted on the  Taser and pepper spray she'd snuck from Rebel's mission pack to be  helpful little elves for their cause.

A sexy disguise. A Taser gun. Helpful elves.

She was a long way from the girl who just wanted to open her own  counseling office, settle down with a banker, and be happy with a life  dictated by routine.

"Shit!" She didn't hold back the violence from it, even causing the  ninja banjo player to jump as he passed by. Other than him, the  festival-goers didn't blink an eye at her predicament. "Okay, Brynn,"  she muttered. "Breathe in, breathe out-and be sweet. The faster you  cooperate, the faster they'll let you go."

It wasn't like she'd broken any major laws. The rental probably had a  burned-out tail light. Maybe she'd rolled too fast through one of the  stop signs in the motel's back lot. Spewing profanities and attitude  wasn't going to speed up this process by a single second.

"You can do this," she whispered. "Just be nice. Be helpful. Be,"-she  quickly wetted her lips-"sexy." Hell, this could even be a dress  rehearsal for the cute-and-coy she had to pull on Adler later.

Just not too much later … God, please.

She concluded the prayer by checking the dashboard clock. "There's still  time." Her whisper was desperate but reassuring, so she repeated it.  "There's still some time." Okay, not hours and hours of the stuff, but  enough to keep her plan still fully railed. She just had to play this  right, accept her ticket, and get the hell out of here in the next ten  to fifteen minutes.                       
       
           



       

Even with their thirty minute lead out of Marble Falls, Rhett and Rebel  had some major real estate to cover. Once they reached Austin, they had  to drive across town to get to Verge's gates. That still gave her the  logistical advantage. She wasn't turning cartwheels of joy about  it-they'd let her come along and now she'd cut them out of the  picture-but something had to happen, damn it. In the end, when  everything turned out all right, they'd eat their proverbial hats,  forced to admit the exact same thing to her.

But right now, speaking of fancy hats …

Show time.

"Officer." She looked up, all blinking innocence and pursed lips, at the  patrolman who strode to the lowered driver's side window. He slowly  peeled off his sunglasses as a second cop joined him. In her peripheral,  the two backseat doors of the cruiser swung open, sprouting two more  sets of long male legs. Shit. Out of all the Texas Highway Patrol teams  to pull her over, she had to get the clown car division. She managed a  demure smile while venturing, "Um … is there a problem?"

Clown Number One tucked his glasses into a shirt pocket, never taking  his eyes off of her. He had nice eyes, actually. In other circumstances,  she could imagine those whiskey-colored irises filling with light as he  laughed. Even with his stern expression, there were dimples in his  cheeks and laugh lines bracketing his mouth. "License and registration,  ma'am?"

She pulled her Nevada license from her purse and handed it over. "I'm  sure the registration's in the glove compartment or something. It's a  rental." Cue the oh-aren't-I-the-cutest giggle. "Like you aren't used to  that one by now, right?" When he scrutinized her license like it had  turned into a thousand-dollar bill, she tried babbling through the  silence. "How is the festival going? Bet it's been a crazy week. I can  only imagine-"

"Please step out of the car, ma'am."

She smiled tightly. "Is that necessary? I mean, what's this all ab-"

"Just step out of the car, please."

Be sweet. Be cooperative. He just has to do his job. Make it easier and  faster for him, and it'll be easier and faster for you. Besides, she  could test how scintillating her legs looked in this skirt. She was  completely fine working the sexy leggy thing in a sequined leotard and  matching go-go boots, but the skirt and blouse were an impulse buy from  three months ago, in anticipation that she'd start needing "real life"  clothes for the next stage of her life. She never dreamed she'd have to  rely on the sex-freak-in-nerd's-clothing bit, least of all in the middle  of a motel parking lot, at high noon during the SXSW festival. Keep  Austin Weird. She was sure doing her part.

"Like … this?" After opening the car door, she slunk both legs out and  slid them provocatively along each other. The move earned her an  impatient cough but little else. When she finally stood, she could look  both officers straight in the eyes. She did just that, going for another  disarming smile. No more coughs this time. No more nothing. Both cops  were practically statues.