Free Slow Hand by Victoria Vane Page A

never gained consciousness.”
    â€œI’m glad Dirk gave up rodeo, though the way it turned out for him, maybe joining the Marines wasn’t the best choice either,” Wade said.
    Her expression grew troubled. “I haven’t seen him around. How’s he doing?”
    Wade shrugged. “As well as can be expected, I guess, but he hardly leaves the ranch. You know about his injuries, don’t you?”
    â€œYeah, I heard.”
    â€œHe’s changed a lot from what he was before.”
    Her brow wrinkled. “I’d expect as much.” She bit her lip, then asked, “He seein’ anyone?”
    â€œDirk?” Wade shook his head. “Not to my knowledge.”
    â€œThink he’d mind if I dropped by?”
    Nikki had watched the exchange with a mild feeling of resentment until she realized it was Dirk and not Wade that Janice was actually interested in. Did she and Dirk have a history? She eyed the other woman with renewed curiosity.
    â€œDon’t know,” Wade replied. “But I think he could use some old friends—as long as you aren’t put off by his surly, badass behavior.”
    Janice grinned. “You’re kiddin’, right? I ain’t thin-skinned. Could never afford to be. You don’t know what it’s like to be a woman working the chutes with all those bulls and rough riders. For the record, I can give every bit as good as I get.” She paused. “Maybe I will call on Dirk one day.”
    â€œForgive me, Nikki,” Wade said. “This is Janice—”
    â€œAn old friend,” Janice supplied smoothly and extended her hand. “I grew up here and just recently moved back.”
    â€œNikki Powell from Atlanta.” Nikki briefly shook Janice’s hand.
    â€œWelcome to Montana. First time?” Janice asked.
    â€œYes, and likely my last. Wade’s helping me with some personal business. My father passed away here.”
    â€œOh,” Janice replied, looking uncertain. “My condolences.”
    â€œWe just came from the mortuary,” Wade explained. “I thought she could use a drink.”
    Janice smiled. “Then you came to the right place. Whatcha gonna have?”
    â€œThe usual for me. The bartender knows.” Wade looked to Nikki. “Sorry, I don’t know your poison.”
    â€œI’ll take a shot of Patrón.”
    â€œSalt and lime?” Janice asked.
    â€œOf course,” Nikki said.
    â€œWhat?” she answered Wade’s querying look. “You thought I’d order some girlie umbrella drink?”
    â€œYeah, it was pretty much what I expected, more than straight tequila.”
    â€œThis seemed like a tequila occasion,” Nikki replied.
    â€œYou are full of surprises.” Wade chuckled as Janice hustled away to fill their order.
    Their drinks appeared within minutes—a foaming beer in a frosted mug, and a shot glass sporting a paper umbrella that Janice set it in front of Nikki with a wink for Wade.
    â€œI suppose this is a joke?” Nikki said.
    Wade laughed, a low, warm rumble that ceased the second she licked the back of her hand to apply the salt. Meeting his gaze, she slowly licked off the salt. He locked on her mouth, his pupils flaring big and black. She took the shot, downing the tequila in a single choking swallow, then bit into the lime with a grimace.
    â€œThat bad?” he asked.
    â€œThe salt is supposed to reduce the burn, but I don’t think it works.”
    â€œWould you like something else?” Wade asked.
    â€œNo, I don’t think it’s a good idea to mix liquors. I’ll stay with my friend Patrón.”
    He nodded at her empty glass. “You want another?”
    You know better , she told herself, staring at his dangerously tempting dimpled chin. He’s made no secret about what he’s after. The last thing you need is to let your guard down. Ignoring the voice of reason, she smiled