Playing With Fire (Tangled in Texas, #2)(33)
Almost a week later, I was sitting in the passenger seat of Bobbie Jo’s tan Ford truck as she drove. She glanced at me warily. “You sounded a little upset on the phone. Is everything okay?”
I shrugged lightly. “I had a bad morning, that’s all.”
And that was the truth.
The note I’d found in my mailbox earlier that morning had irritated me, though it was only one of several I’d received over the past week. The Barlow brothers hadn’t improved with their spelling any, but the lame threatening notes were starting to get on my nerves. I had a good mind to march next door, give them an ass-kicking, and possibly a lesson in good grammar.
Nor had Cowboy come back after kissing me almost a week ago. Of course, that may have had something to do with me throwing him out of my house afterward and slamming the door in his face. But still…
I wondered if my blatant sexual inexperience had shone through the moment our lips touched. Maybe that was why the persistent playboy hadn’t returned. I mean, I’d kissed a guy before. Just not one who made me feel the way Cowboy did. Like I would willingly tear off my clothes and let him caress me any way he wanted.
And the thought terrified me. Because once I told him the whole truth about me, he’d hightail it. Never to be seen or heard from again. Though seeing how he’d disappeared already, I couldn’t figure out how things would be much different than they were.
It was probably for the best. If I was smart, I’d take a lesson out of Cowboy’s dating playbook by moving on and putting the whole experience behind me. It wasn’t like I had much of a choice. Cowboy had already dropped off the book I’d loaned him in the outdoor return bin and hadn’t been back to the library, either.
Another reason for my foul mood.
I’d told him that was exactly what I’d wanted. But if that were true, then why did my chest ache? And how come every time I thought about Cowboy’s body pressing mine against that door, my knees went weak?
Damn it. I let out a frustrated sigh.
“Want to talk about it?” Bobbie Jo asked, pulling me from my thoughts.
“Nothing to talk about. I’m fine.”
“You sure?” she asked, turning left into a driveway marked by a large wooden sign with faded black letters that read “Miller’s Bird Farm.”
I plastered on the most genuine smile I could fake. “Yep. I’m great.”
Bobbie Jo parked her pickup on a concrete slab in front of a large white house and shut off the engine. “Good. Then let’s go inside so I can introduce you to the girls.”
I opened my door and slid out of the truck as the distant sounds of birds, squawking and chirping, drifted to my ears. As I maneuvered around the front of the vehicle, I spotted a small flock of white and gray guinea fowl running loose nearby. Ignoring me, they scratched at the ground in search of insects.
“You’ll love Floss,” Bobbie Jo said, bringing my attention back to her. “She’s the sweetest thing ever. And Emily…well, she’ll grow on you,” she said with a laugh.
I laughed, remembering the story she’d told me about how Emily and Jake had gotten together. Emily had entered Witness Protection, and Jake had been the FBI agent in charge of protecting her. Unofficially at that. While none of that was remotely funny, the wild shenanigans Emily had put Jake through were.
“I guess Emily’s not causing any more problems for Jake now that they’re married and have a baby,” I said, stepping up beside her.
“Are you kidding? That girl is a handful. Lucky for her, Jake loves every minute of it…when she’s not frustrating him to the point of throwing things.”
One of my eyebrows rose involuntarily. “Isn’t he a little too old to be pitching fits?”
Bobbie Jo smiled, then turned toward the back passenger door of the truck. “Jake wants Emily to behave herself, but that’s like asking the sun not to rise.” Her hand stilled over the door handle for a moment, then she shook her head and frowned. “He’s a man, Anna. They all throw tantrums when they don’t get what they want.” She swung open the door to retrieve Austin from the backseat.
By the sound of her strained voice, I gathered she must’ve had another run-in with Jeremy. “Do you want to talk about it?” I asked softly, returning the favor.
“And ruin our good time?” Bobbie Jo snorted. “Definitely not.”
I waited patiently as she pulled the baby from his car seat and shouldered his diaper bag. She’d dressed him casually in a simple, orange-striped onesie with matching socks and a thin blanket wrapped around him. It was a warm day, but the cool breeze kept it from being too hot.
“After we go see what the women are up to, we’ll check on my boys and see what trouble they’re getting into. They’re helping Hank over in the pasture today.”
Her boys? As in plural? Oh, no.
I glanced out into the field and caught sight of a group of men standing on the other side of the barbed wire fence in the back pasture. My gaze landed squarely on Cowboy as he stood from a crouched position and stretched his arms above his head, elongating his tall, muscular frame. The white T-shirt he wore lifted a few inches above his belt buckle, allowing me a glimpse of his well-defined, perfectly sculpted abs.
Oh, dear God. I wish I’d known he’d be here.