Free Red-Hot Texas Nights by Kimberly Raye Page B

to ignore the strange prickle of awareness that told her he was watching her.
    Her hand closed around the knob and she turned. Water spurted from the end of the hose and she busied herself washing off her fingers.
    She wasn’t doing anything with him right here, right now. She had more important things on her plate.
    Namely, talk to Kenny and get herself home to bed in time to be at the bakery at four a.m. sharp to prep the way she did every day.
    Last night had been enough.
    She gathered her strength and her composure, turned off the water, and started back toward the car. Thirty seconds later, she climbed into the passenger seat and reached for her clipboard.
    â€œYou’re all wet, sugar,” he murmured, drawing her attention.
    Her gaze collided with his and she felt the familiar ache between her legs. “You have no idea.”
    He grinned then and she had the crazy thought that he knew exactly what she was talking about. But then he reached out and touched her damp sleeve. “Maybe you ought to go home and change.”
    â€œIt’s just water. It’ll dry.” She forced her attention to the clipboard. Flipping on the dash light, she focused on counting last week’s sales and predicting the coming week, along with specialty items.
    â€œDo you mind?” He motioned to the radio, and she shrugged.
    A click of the knob and Jason Aldean’s “Burnin’ It Down” drifted over the radio.
    The music combined with the steady sound of his breathing actually relaxed her and she managed to get a good ten minutes’ worth of work done before her gaze snagged on his profile and she found herself remembering a similar moment when she’d climbed into his pickup truck that very first time.
    She didn’t remember the drive to the rodeo arena or the walk through the stock pens to get to the foreman’s office. She just remembered this—his firm chin, the sensual set to his mouth, the slope of his chiseled nose, the shadow of a beard covering his strong jaw.
    Everything seemed more defined now, as if the years had added an edge to his features that made him seem older, and much more dangerous.
    â€œI can’t believe Cooper would trade a full ride to A and M for this.” He motioned to the overgrown yard and the sagging front porch. “It’s not like Kenny is making money hand over fist, otherwise he wouldn’t be holed up in such a dump.”
    â€œYou really think Cooper is involved with Kenny Roy?”
    â€œThat’s what he said. Left our mother a message saying he was doing some work with Kenny Roy and would be gone for a little while. That was three weeks ago. He’s been in touch once or twice since, but he just leaves the same message that he’ll be back soon. But soon should have come a helluva long time ago.”
    â€œDid you call the police?”
    He shook his head. “He’s not technically a missing person. He’s okay or he wouldn’t be able to leave messages, but there’s no word about where he is or what he’s involved with. He mentioned that Kenny Roy had hooked him up with some kind of job, so I figured I would start here.” He eyed her. “What about you? Why do you need to see Kenny Roy? You trying to sell him some cookies?”
    â€œVery funny.” She shook her head and fixed her gaze back on the clipboard. “I’m not a Girl Scout, but I am here on business. A new business.” She didn’t mean to say any more, but he’d been so forthcoming about his brother that the words slid out before she could stop them. “I think I’ve come up with a new moonshine recipe. One even better than Texas Thunder.”
    â€œSeriously?”
    She nodded. “I mixed up a batch of mash and Ellie, the girl I was here with earlier, gave it to her boyfriend who gave it to Kenny Roy who found someone who could run it for me. It turned out really good, which is why I need to talk