COWBOY FOR SALE--A Second-Chances Spicy Romance Page 6

“Thanks again for the dance. I better get inside and set up.”

  Lacey nodded, her gaze following Jared as he picked up his guitar case and hurried into the club.

  She sighed. No single dads. Not after everything Dirk had put her through. She mentally reviewed her list, reminding herself of her requirements. Definitely no kids. Someone her age or younger—though Jared's graying temples were awfully attractive, she thought. And no starving musicians either. You promised to stick to your list. Her own scolding thoughts rattled in her head as she pivoted on her sandaled heel and made her way to the club's entrance. There, with any luck, she thought, Hank would be waiting.

  It was time to get this over with.

  ***

  Jared almost tripped as he stepped onto the stage, the guitar case banging painfully against his shin. He winced and softly cursed, grateful that the rest of the band was sitting at the bar and not watching him and Lacey.

  She’d come after all. And I still got the first dance. His attraction to her still pooled in his groin, he turned his back to the dance floor hoping he could pull himself together before anyone noticed.

  Tonight she looked different, much prettier than he had allowed his memory to capture. And that dress…bare armed, silky soft, sexy swirling skirt, low-necked…and some shade of light orange he assumed had some kind of delicate name. Women’s fashion eluded him, but, man, Lacey had pulled it all together and looked like a million bucks.

  And her hair was different, all pulled back from her face in a braid. He'd managed to slip his hand under it while they danced so he could hold her closer, his hand caressing the bare skin on her back. Even braided, she had such soft, silky angel hair.

  He was irritated with himself. Frustrated. Aroused. That was the worst part. He had not expected his body to be so out of control. He shook his head. She's not your business, he reminded himself. At least—if she’d even noticed his wedding ring before—at least now she knew… What? he chided himself. That he was available? He shook his head, feeling even more frustrated. No, even if he was looking, Gloria had revealed she was a career woman, right? So, nope, she was just a disappearing fantasy. That was it.

  As he checked his amplifier and each cord for good connections, he glanced at the front door. Lacey was talking with Hank, their heads close together. He saw that Hank stayed seated, giving him an obvious opportunity to look down the front of Lacey's dress. Did she even realize?

  Snake. What could she possibly see in that guy?

  Jared watched as Hank stood up, removed his hat with a sweeping gesture, and said loud enough for everyone in the room to hear, “I'd be honored, ma'am.”

  What was that all about?

  Gloria's tapping foot interrupted his thoughts as she stood at the end of the stage with a tall glass of ice water. “Hey, hon', what's up?”

  Jared tore his gaze from the doorway. “Gloria, do you have any idea what your hairdresser could possibly see in Hank Erickson?”

  Gloria hesitated a moment. “By the tone of your voice, I'd say you really have something else on your mind.”

  Jared groaned. “What I don't need is for you to analyze me every time I ask you a question.”

  “Still cranky, I see. What's goin' on with you? I've never seen you this perturbed before.”

  “Did you hear what they were talking about at the door just now?”

  “Who?”

  “Hank and…Lacey.”

  “Now, why would you care a hoot what they were discussing?”

  Jared frowned at the question. Exactly. Why do I care?

  Gloria handed him the glass of water. “Drink this and cool down, Mister Nosy, and I'll tell you.”

  Jared drained the glass and handed it back.

  “Better?”

  “Better.”

  “Okay. The mall where Lacey's salon is has a charity event each year. This year it's a Dream Date Bachelor Auction. They've got every line of work represented—”

  “And that has exactly what to do with Hank?”

  “Like I was saying,” she continued, giving him a look that said he should zip his lips. “There will be good looking and eligible firemen, construction workers, executives, policemen—get it?”

  Jared nodded. “Sounds like The Village People to me.”

  Gloria gave him her best you-better-hush-and-let-me-finish scowl. “And Lacey and Kandy had to come up with two cowboys. Kandy asked Luke, and Lacey just asked Hank. Happy now?”

  Jared's jaw dropped. “She asked Hank?”

  “What is your problem, Jared? Are you sayin' you have an interest in my hairdresser?” she teased.

  Jared glared his response.

  “Well, if you do, you'd better think about doin' somethin' about it other than bein’ cranky all night.” With a grin, Gloria twirled and returned her attention to the tables filling up with the first customers of the night.

  Jared's glance flitted from Gloria and then to see where Lacey was sitting.

  Maybe I will.

  Chapter Five

  Jared's jaw ached from clenching his teeth, a byproduct of the tension that had built as he worked hard to keep his gaze on Lacey all evening. A couple times she caught his stare and flashed him a small smile. She sat at a table close to the dance floor with Kandy and the same group of women as the week before.

  Unless she was dancing with Hank, that is.

  Eleven. Eleven times she was in his arms. When she tried to dance with anyone else tonight, Hank quickly cut in. Jared lost his place during one of the band's easiest tunes when he saw Hank's hand drift slowly downward until his fingers touched the curve of Lacey's bottom.

  His heart had soared as she’d pushed Hank away slightly, just enough to force him to reposition his hand. Good.

  Lacey disappeared with Hank only once during the band's breaks. During the rest of their breaks, Jared had positioned himself as close to her table as he could, hoping to overhear conversation. No luck. The club was too rowdy tonight for that. He spent the entire evening on pins and needles. Waiting.

  After the last song, he shook his head in confusion. Waiting for what? Like Gloria had said, he needed to either do something or forget it.

  The sound of a chair slamming against a table got his attention and he watched as Lacey allowed a very inebriated Hank to lead her outside.

  It was now or never, he thought. As soon as the equipment was stowed, he would find her…and warn her, whether she wanted to hear it or not. It was the least he could do.

  ***

  When Lacey walked back into the Rockin’ Ranch she saw Jared on stage, winding the last of the microphone cords. She walked straight toward him, hoping like hell he wasn’t in a hurry to leave.

  “The music was good tonight,” she said, intentionally speaking slowly and deliberately, anxious to keep her voice steady, especially after what had just happened outside. Her cheeks felt flushed and hot, her wrists beginning to ache.

  “Thanks. I enjoyed your dancing to it.”

  She heard an unfamiliar edge in his voice. Or was she imagining it? Taking a deep calming breath, she continued. “Kind sir, are you in a position to rescue a damsel in distress?” She forced a smile, hoping her emotions weren’t showing on her face.

  Jared stared at her, a flash of confusion in his eyes. “What's wrong? Flat tire?” Though his voice sounded neutral, Jared's face betrayed his concern. He looked down at the cord in his hand. “Where’s Hank? I'm sure he would be happy to—”

  “I'm not really interested in having Hank's help right now,” she interrupted. She bit her lip, the only way to keep it from quivering. Please just say yes. Don't ask what happened.

  Jared's eyebrows pulled together as he considered her words but didn’t respond right away. He turned and finished stowing some equipment and picked up a long, thin guitar case.

  In a painful flash, the lights came on in the club accompanied by a loud shout of “last call for alcohol—drink 'em up or lose 'em.” Lacey's hands flew up to shade her eyes fr
om the sudden glare.

  When her eyes adjusted she saw Jared's gaze locked on her wrists, at the hot red rings there. Instant tears welled in her eyes, blurring her vision.

  “Lacey—”

  “I…well, I need a ride home…I could call a cab, I guess, but it's just that I thought you might be able to help me out and…” The words tumbled out in one breath. Please say yes. Please say yes.

  “I thought you came with Kandy.” Again his eyebrows pulled together, concern filling his gray eyes.

  “She left already. She thought I was getting a ride home from—”

  “Hank.” Jared finished her sentence, bridled anger in his voice, his eyes narrowing.

  Lacey blinked in surprise, followed by a rush of relief. He seemed to understand and maybe he wouldn’t even ask what had happened.

  “Milady, I am delighted to be of assistance,” he said, his voice soft and warm now, although it also seemed like he might be struggling to keep things light between them. “Okay if I meet you outside in five minutes? I'll say my goodbyes and settle up with the band. You can meet me out back, all right?”

  Lacey nonchalantly dabbed the corner of her eye with her finger, catching a tear before it escaped. She forced a smile and nodded. “Great.”

  ***

  Jared watched as Lacey walked out the back door.

  Damsel in distress. He certainly didn’t like the sound of that.

  And something tells me that Hank had something to do with those fresh bruises on your wrists. If he hadn’t just promised to meet her outside in five minutes, he’d be searching the place for Hank.

  With his mouth set in a determined line, he collected his pay and strode out the side door to the parking lot, determined to hear the whole story. That is, if she would tell him.

  Jared found Lacey near the bottom step of the deck out back and he gave her a nod and a smile, tipping his head toward the lone truck in the back lot. She fell in step next to him and when they reached the truck, he unlocked the passenger door, slid the guitar case behind the bench seat and offered her his hand. He caught her glance for only an instant. She seemed embarrassed, but allowed him to help her into the truck.

  Then he walked around the truck and climbed behind the wheel, turning the key in the ignition. “So, where to?”

  Looking straight ahead she answered in a quiet voice as she gave him directions. He stared at her hands, now lying motionless in her lap. Even in the dim light he could clearly see the red edges of bruises on both wrists.

  He caught her gaze again as he backed the truck out of his spot. She quickly looked away, embarrassed, he guessed.

  Jared waited for several minutes before he finally cleared his throat and asked, “What happened with Hank, Lacey?” He needed to know if his suspicions were correct. He needed to know if he needed to go back to the club, find him, and kick his ass.

  At a stoplight, he turned and looked at her. The dashboard lights bathed her face in a soft yellow glow. But she quickly turned her face to look out the side window, away from his scrutiny.

  “I'm fine, really,” she began. “I didn't mean to…to lead him on…”

  Jared winced at the confessional sound in her voice. “Let me tell you a little something about Hank. He's not who he seems. He can create the appearance of charm, all right, but he's pretty much a cretin and known to be a ladies' man.”

  Lacey turned her face his direction, nodded, then tipped her head back a little and smiled. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears.

  She was a tough one. “How are your wrists?” He returned his gaze to the road and waited to see what she might say. The fact that it looked to him that Hank had grabbed her and hurt her, well, he could feel his blood boiling in his veins just thinking about it.

  “Really, it’s nothing. Looks worse than it is.”

  “I should have warned you about him,” Jared said, wishing like hell he’d trusted his own instincts and cautioned her the minute Hank had had that first dance.

  “I'm a big girl, Jared.”

  Jared flinched at the offended tone in her voice. “I only meant that he's very good at taking advantage of innocents—”

  “Turn here,” she interrupted. “You can let me off at the sidewalk there, in front of the peach stucco one.” She pointed at a small, two-story apartment complex.

  “Look, I didn't mean to insult you. It's just that Hank had it in his head that you were going to be his latest conquest and—”

  “—and someone like me certainly wouldn't be able to handle him,” she finished

  In her voice he heard a hint of…he had no idea what. But, clearly, her reaction wasn’t good.

  Jared shook his head. Leave it alone, he told himself. He had no right to…to what? His mind was swimming, confused, baffled. He wasn’t used to feeling whatever it was he was feeling. Like the rug was being pulled out from under him, he decided, and that he’d completely lost his footing somehow.

  He pulled his truck to a gentle stop.

  Lacey let out a loud sigh, breaking the silence. “It's been a long night and I just need it to end. Really, I’m fine. Hank grabbed my wrists a little too hard. That’s all. Nothing to worry about. I appreciate the ride home.”

  Jared opened his door, intending to walk Lacey to her front door.

  “I'm fine,” she assured him, placing a hand on his arm to stop him. Then she quickly opened the door, got out and closed it with a thud.

  With his left foot still on the pavement, Jared paused. It was obvious she didn’t want to talk, and didn’t want his help. Now was the time to let it go.

  To let her go.

  He waited until he saw her safely go inside, then drove away. At least Hank had shown his true colors quickly. For that, he was grateful.

  But why did he feel that things were unfinished between him and Lacey?

  ***

  Inside her studio apartment, her back against the door, Lacey finally allowed the tears to escape from beneath her tightly closed eyes. Hank was a ass, sure, but she was an idiot.

  She wiped the tears from her cheeks. Hank didn't deserve her tears, she thought angrily, then shivered as she looked at her wrists.

  When she’d declined his invitation to go home with him instead of him taking her home, she’d naively thought he would accept a polite “no thanks.” Then when he’d tried to kiss her and she’d turned away, her wrists were suddenly behind her back in a painful vice grip, immobilizing her before she could even think.

  As he’d pushed her against the wall, his body hard against hers, she couldn’t believe what was happening. The sour smell of his breath was nauseating, but adrenalin had kicked in enough for her to threaten “the family jewels” if he didn't let go right now. With an unpleasant belch, he’d released her and mumbled what a bitch after her as she’d stormed away, her emotions a sickening mixture of humiliation and fury.

  Throbbing pain reminded her of the need to ice her bruised wrists, a manifest of her naïveté. She shook her head in frustration as she walked into the kitchenette, turned on the faucet and ran cold water on her wrists at the sink.

  Looks are deceiving, she reminded herself. Or maybe he’d just had too much to drink. Or maybe I just don't know how to pick men.

  The sound of the phone disturbed her thoughts and sent her heart racing. Who would call at the late hour? Wiping her hands on a towel, Lacey snatched the phone from the wall before its second ring.

  “What are you doing home? I was expecting the machine. I was just going to leave a message and tell you my phone died and leave another number in case you needed to get in touch with me.”

  Relieved to hear Kandy's voice and not a stranger's describing some horrible emergency or a relative calling to say who had just died, Lacey laughed. “Hello to you, too.”

  “What are you doing there? I left right after the last set to take Brianna home, then meet Luke for coffee. He said you and Hank were—”

  “Why the hell is everyone assuming Hank and I are a…a…coup
le?” She winced at her own description. “Is there some sort of rule about dancing with someone and all of a sudden you're an item?”

  “Lacey, what's wrong? Are you all right?”

  Lacey counted to five. Why was she so angry?

  “Lacey?”

  “I'm just tired. Hank was so sure I was going home with him, and Jared thinks I'm an innocent—”

  “Wait. Jared? The bass player? What's he got to do with anything? Stop. Back up. Talk to me…”

  Lacey shouldered the phone so she could take a bag of peas from the freezer. She wrapped it in a paper towel and put it on the table, then sat down and rested her throbbing wrists on it.

  “C’mon. It’s me. Talk to me,” Kandy repeated softly.

  “When Hank agreed to be in the auction tonight—”

  “Right. But that’s good, isn’t it?”

  “He said he would as long as I promised to bid on him and win. I didn’t say yes…or no. I figured I’d deal with that at the event. I didn’t want to commit, you know?”

  “Okay.”

  “But then at the end of the night he assumed I was going home with him tonight—he wasn’t just giving me a ride to my place—and he…he wouldn't take no for an answer.”

  “Lacey. What do you mean? What happened? Oh, I never should have left you—”

  “Stop. You know that self-defense class we took at the mall? Well I almost got the opportunity to try out a groin kick. Worked like a charm.”

  “Geez, Lacey, did he hurt you or—”

  “No…no…I'm fine, really. Just mad and upset. He seemed…well, okay…you know?” She sniffed back fresh tears. Maybe she was an innocent, like Jared had said. Right now she did feel naive and a little stupid. Had she just been fooling herself about Hank? Been blinded by his attention? Fooled by his good looks and charm? It seemed pretty obvious after the fact.

  “You’re sure you’re okay?”

  “Yes. He grabbed my wrists is all. Nothing serious—”

  “You have frozen peas in the house?”

  Lacey laughed. She’d shared with Kandy her remedy of using bagged frozen veggies for swelling and pain, which Kandy used frequently after a long day doing hair wearing ridiculously high heels.