Sharp Shootin' Cowboy (Hot Cowboy Nights, #3)(6)

“So you actually think some people deserve to die?” Her face was flushed, and her green eyes blazed.

“Some do,” he answered levelly. There was no way to win once an argument got emotional. “I’m a peaceful man who believes in minding my own pastures, but I also believe in good and evil. There are a lot of very bad people in this world. Certainly the ones who fly airplanes through skyscrapers. When that kind of thing happens, I believe in doing whatever it takes to protect our own.”

He could see her getting more worked up by the minute, and damned if he wasn’t also—just not in the same way. She’d been baiting him from the start, spewing arguments that usually just pissed him off, but in this case, it was turning him on.

His gaze locked on her mouth. Her tongue darted out as if she read his thoughts. She drew a breath as if to formulate another rebuttal, but he’d had enough. Before her lips could spout off any more of the Pacifist Tree Hugger’s Manifesto, he pulled her into his arms and silenced her with his.

*

The kiss came without warning, and Haley was too stunned at first to react. He began gently enough, his lips sliding over hers, hands cupping her face, thumbs stroking her jaw, and then he grew more insistent, his tongue probing the seal of her lips. His callused hands were simultaneously firm and gentle, and his lips paradoxically soft and commanding.

Mere seconds had her head spinning and stomach fluttering. She was slipping fast and not about to let him pull her in any deeper. Part of her wanted to give into it, to see where it might lead, but the other half resented his audacity. Her pride won out. She resisted the urge to soften, to open to him, then stiffened, pressing her hands against his chest.

He released her instantly.

She stepped back, knees weak and pulse racing. “I didn’t come here looking to hook up.”

“Neither did I. But sometimes unexpected things happen.” His gaze locked with hers, a look of speculation gleaming in his eyes. “When they do, it’s best to just go with your gut instinct.”

“That so? Well all my instincts scream ‘no marines,’ so don’t let it happen again.”

Suddenly remembering the cue in her hand, Haley turned back to the table. It took all of her will to focus back on the game. She could hardly believe how he’d nearly unraveled her with a single kiss. Then again, no one had ever kissed her like that. She made her break, pocketing the one, and then moved methodically around the table, calling each shot as she sank every solid. Only the eight ball remained, but it was trapped behind two stripes.

Reid’s lips curved with smug certainty. “Looks like I’ll get my turn after all.”

“Don’t count your chickens, cowboy.” She laid down her cue and searched the wall behind her for a shorter one. “Jump cue,” she said in answer to his silent question.

“You’re kidding right?”

“Nope.” Approaching the table, she angled for her shot. She could almost feel his eyes on her ass. She glanced over her shoulder. Sure enough. He was leaning against the wall with both arms crossed over his broad chest, his gaze zeroed in on her behind.

“Enjoying the view?”

“Sure am,” he confessed, unabashed.

He was sadly mistaken if he thought he’d unnerve her. Keeping him in her peripheral vision, she widened her stance and stretched out over the table. All signs of smugness evaporated from his face. He tugged on his jeans.

Haley grinned, reveling in her small victory, and then prepared for a bigger one. “Eight ball, side pocket,” she declared with confidence. On a three count she took the shot, jumping the stripes to pocket the eight. “Yeah baby!” She threw down the cue and fisted the air, gloating in her triumph.

Reid gaped at the table. “I’ll be goddamned. How did you learn to do that?”

“My grandpa was a regional pool champion.”

“That bit of information was mighty sneaky to withhold.”

She shrugged. “You didn’t ask. Loser buys. I’ll take a mojito.”

His gaze darted to her hands. “No bracelet? Thought you never broke the rules.”

“I said I play by them. That’s not quite the same. Are you gonna buy me that drink or not?”

Reid signaled a waitress, ordering a beer and a Coke. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he answered her scowl. “I might bend a few rules, but I do abide by the law. And you aren’t legal yet…not for drinking anyway.” His gaze swept slowly over her, inciting ripples of heat in its wake.

“You’re wasting your breath,” she insisted, but her gaze wavered from his.

Reid Everett oozed the kind of quiet, sexy confidence that inspired both trust and stupidity. He was self-assured without arrogance, supremely comfortable in his own skin, the kind of man who made smart girls do dumb things. Her will was growing weaker the longer she stayed with him. Her brain told her it was time to go, but she couldn’t quite bring her feet to comply.

Yolanda’s appearance was her saving grace. “Thought you might be getting thirsty, chica.” She had two drinks in hand and a marine in dress blues hot on her tail. She handed Haley a cosmo, not her drink of choice, but it would have to do.

“Haley, this is Corporal Rafael Garcia. Rafi, esta es mi major amiga, Haley.” She eyed Reid with interest. “Who’s your friend?”

“Garcia’s better half,” Reid answered with a smirk.