Tyler (Riding Hard Book 4), Page 2

  The cop asked them both what happened.

  “What happened is I said the wrong thing in the wrong bar and got my ass handed to me,” Tyler said, trying to grin, wincing when his mouth pulled on a cut.

  The pretty bartender scowled. “He was minding his own business, and Elijah lit into him.”

  The cop nodded knowingly. Apparently, he was familiar with Elijah and his ways.

  “You want to go to the hospital?” the cop asked. He’d shone a light into Tyler’s eyes, got him to follow his fingers, asked his full name, routine emergency tech stuff. Tyler knew the drill.

  “Nah,” Tyler said, trying to move without wincing. “I’ve been hurt worse falling off my horses. It’s my job.” He started to get his feet under him, groaned, and leaned back on the bartender. She was gorgeous—why was he in such a hurry to get up?

  The cop and his partner got their hands under Tyler’s arms and gently but firmly helped him stand. Tyler tested his legs and arms, patted his sides, wiggled his swollen fingers. Nothing broken, fortunately.

  But he was banged up. Tyler put his hand to his face and found his cheek swelling, blood from the cut on his lip. His hands were a mess, and his clothes were stained with both his blood and that of his enemies.

  “Why don’t you get back home?” the cop said. He spoke in a heavy Dallas accent, one that said this was his town, in all its chaotic glory. His suggestion wasn’t really a suggestion, and Tyler knew it. “Sleep it off, go to the ER if you’re still hurting in the morning.”

  “Yeah, will do,” Tyler answered.

  They asked if he wanted to file a complaint against Elijah or have the man picked up for assault, but Tyler shook his head. Rounding up Elijah probably wouldn’t do any good, and Tyler just wanted to get back to his hotel room and rest. He had a show tomorrow.

  The cops didn’t seem surprised Tyler let the incident go, which told him that Elijah was a serious pain in the ass to many. They talked to him a little longer, making sure he really was all right, then they got into their cars and left.

  The bartender remained by his side. She came up to his shoulder—just tall enough to rest her head there if she wanted. Her hair smelled sweet, and her hand on Tyler’s chest would be warm and light. He remembered the taste of her lips, the tightening in his heart when she kissed him back, and the heat that started in other places besides his heart. He wouldn’t mind kissing her again.

  She gazed up at him, not in longing, but in worry mixed with anger.

  “You should have asked them to take you home,” she said. “Or to a hospital. Elijah’s boys beat you up good.”

  Translation—Tyler looked like hell. Great. He felt for his keys, glad to find them still in his pocket, and glanced around for his truck. It sat under the one light in the parking lot, alone and shining, untouched.

  He shook his head, wishing the movement didn’t make him dizzy. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ve had worse than this in a tussle with my brothers. And we mostly like each other. Besides, I didn’t want to leave my truck.” He looked down at her, knowing that if he didn’t go, he wouldn’t resist the urge to slide his arm around her and pull her up for another kiss. He wanted to see if the second one would blow him away as much as the first. “What about you? You all right? I saw you in that fight, throwing guys around like a superhero.”

  She flushed, her eyes starry. “Sure, I was. Elijah’s a bully, and it wasn’t a fair fight.”

  “I appreciate that. I really do. Hey.” Tyler stuck his fingers into his back pocket and brought out three battered pieces of cardboard. “These will get you into our show tomorrow. We’re on at eleven-thirty. You have someone you want to bring?”

  She looked suddenly grateful, a real smile breaking through. Damn, she was hot when she did that. “Yes, my son, Dominic. He’s nine, and he’d love it.”

  A son. Good—Tyler liked kids. No mention of a husband or boyfriend. More good, though that didn’t mean one wasn’t lurking in the background.

  “All right, then. Guess I’ll be saying so long.” Tyler should walk away now, head for the truck, and heave himself into it. His feet wouldn’t move. “What’s your name, darlin’?” he asked. “I want to know who I’m saying good night to.”

  “Jessica,” she answered, her voice like music. “Or Jess.”

  “Jessica. That’s pretty.” Tyler tried to give her his flirting smile, but it pulled at the side of his lip, which smarted. “I’m Tyler. Tyler Campbell. If you come to the show, ask for me. Your son can meet my horses, and my brothers. One of them’s famous—Adam. He’s a movie stuntman.”

  And safely married and happily in love with his wife so he wouldn’t be stealing Tyler’s ladies anymore. Grant and Carter were also married, so Tyler didn’t have to worry about them either. It was great being the only single Campbell on the stunt team.

  “Thanks,” Jessica said, clutching the tickets.

  Tyler hoped, truly hoped, she’d use them. He’d introduce her son to his family and show the kid the horses. Then Tyler would suggest he take them out for a nice lunch. Maybe Jessica would smile at him for real again. After that he’d suggest he and Jessica go out to a fancier dinner, just the two of them …

  Right. She looked like a woman who wanted to hook up with a beat-up cowboy.

  “Good night,” Tyler made himself repeat. “See you there.”

  He leaned down with difficulty and retrieved his hat. One of the bikers had stomped on it after it had fallen in the struggle, right into an oil puddle. He gazed at the hat in resignation, gave Jessica a rueful smile, and headed for his truck.

  Limped for the truck was more like it. Tyler might not have broken anything, but he was battered and bruised and had pulled more muscles than he knew he had.

  He clicked the remote to unlock the driver’s side door and levered himself inside. There he sat, leaning back against the seat, eyes closed, while he willed pain to die down.

  When he opened his eyes again, he found Jessica standing next to his door. She was way better looking than his dingy hotel room, so he decided to sit still and enjoy her.

  “Hey, sweetheart,” he croaked.

  “Move over,” Jessica said in a firm voice. “You’re not driving anywhere. I’ll take you home.”

  Chapter Two

  Tyler stared down at Jess for a split second with those sexy blue eyes, then he slid over to the passenger side without argument, leaving the keys in the ignition.

  Jessica awkwardly climbed up and inside. The pickup was big, a guy’s truck, the driver’s seat pushed all the way back to accommodate long legs. Tyler watched while Jess adjusted the seat so could reach the pedals. She didn’t touch the mirrors, not wanting to hear any lashing out that she’d messed with their perfection.

  Tyler said nothing, only stiffly strapped on his seatbelt. Jess put on her own seatbelt and then turned the key. The truck throbbed under her, the engine powerful. It felt good, like a motorcycle ready to go.

  Jess wasn’t used to driving pickups—she had a motorcycle and a small car—but she figured out which gear was where and how sensitive the pedals were while Tyler leaned back and closed his eyes. Finally, Jess carefully maneuvered the truck out of the parking lot and into the street, only hitting an inch or so of the curb.

  Tyler didn’t admonish her. He groaned slightly when the truck bumped, but no cursing, no telling her she was clumsy and stupid.

  “Where to?” she asked as she glided the truck down the shabby back street.

  “Aw, damn,” Tyler said in a faint rasp, trying to put a laugh in there. “I thought you meant you’d take me to your home. I have the shittiest luck.”

  A vision flashed through her of the two of them in her small bedroom, the cowboy filling her bed with his warmth. Heat flashed through her, the vision potent.

  But no, he didn’t mean it. He was teasing. Jess had just met him, for crap’s sake.

  “Where are you staying?” she asked, as though she hadn’t heard him. She shot him a worried look a
s he pressed his hand to his abdomen. “You sure you don’t want to go to the ER? There’s one close.”

  “No.” Tyler shook his head against the seat. “I’ve been hurt so many times I know exactly when something’s wrong and when it isn’t. I’ll be okay after I lay my butt down.” He let out a grunt as he stretched out his legs. “I’m staying at a place called the Lone Pine, just off the 635. Not far, and nothing fancy.” He popped down the visor and peered at himself in the dusty mirror as he gingerly touched his face. “Aw, man, Carter’s gonna kill me.”

  “Who’s Carter?” Jess asked. Maybe he had an Elijah in his life too.

  “My brother. My older brother. I have three of those. One younger. Ross. I like him.”

  “Carter will get mad at you for fighting?”

  “Nah, not for fighting.” Tyler brushed a swelling cut on his cheek. “For messing up my face. Though I’m supposed to be a bad guy this time. Carter’s always a bad guy—he prefers it—but I go either way, depending on how many we need on whichever side.” His eyes narrowed and he slammed the visor back up. “I’ll wear a bandana. Or work my bruises into the show.”

  “What do you do in your show?” Jess asked, interested and wanting to keep him talking. He had an amazing voice, deep and gravelly and at the same time smooth like the richest coffee.

  “Stupid things.” His laugh was short. “Falling off horses and jumping back on, shooting at each other—fake shooting. I do a lot of acrobatics. Kind of my specialty.”

  That explained his athletic body and easy grace. “No wonder you could move so fast in the fight then,” Jess said in admiration as she took the ramp onto the I-30, heading east. “It was wild.”

  “I still got my ass kicked pretty hard,” Tyler said without rancor. “Hey, if you’re driving me, how will you get home? I’d offer to book you a room at the hotel, but you said you had a kid, and I’m thinking you’ll want to go back to him.” He waved the problem away. “Don’t worry. I’ll call you a cab or something.”

  Jess took her eyes off the traffic to glance over at him. Why the hell was he being so nice? No guys were ever nice to Jess, not since her dad had left so very long ago, not since they’d decided she wasn’t worth the trouble.

  She swallowed. “I’ll take you up on a cab back to the bar. My bike’s there. Buddy—he’s the manager—will make sure no one messes with it.” She’d snatched up her purse and phone when she’d told Buddy she’d better make sure the cowboy was all right. Buddy had waved her off, saying he’d close up the bar early now that all his patrons had taken off. No one there liked cops.

  Tyler studied Jess a moment while oncoming cars washed white light across his bruised face. “Why do you work there? That place is a dive. Dangerous.”

  “What’s a girl like me doing in a bar like that?” Jessica tossed back at him. “Answer—I need the job. Why the hell else would I be there? Plus they provide insurance. Crappy insurance, but better than nothing.”

  “I get that.” Tyler gave her a nod. “You have a kid. It’s tough raising them on your own.”

  He put a questioning tone on the last words, but he’d guessed right. “Yeah, I’m divorced,” Jess said, happy it was true. “My ex is in prison. Another reason I work at the dive. People don’t always want to hire me when they find out my husband is a con. Like he’ll break out and come after me.” Jessica shivered, knowing that Cade was capable of doing just that. “Elijah got me the job, actually. The bar owner owed him a favor. And probably money. It’s not a bad job—as a bartender, I’m paid more than the waitresses and I get tips.”

  Working behind the bar meant she wasn’t running around with a heavy tray, which was dangerous for her. Too many potential falls, plus a risk of dropping a ton of glassware, which she’d have to pay for. She could stand and pour drinks all night though—most of the people who came into the bar ordered beer anyway.

  Tyler stared at her. Not as if horrified because she had an ex-husband in prison, but with concern. “I don’t like you owing anything to that Elijah shithead.”

  “I don’t either,” Jess said truthfully. “But—”

  “And don’t tell me he’s great once you get to know him,” Tyler growled. “I’ve dealt with guys like him before. He’s not.”

  “I know that,” Jessica said, breaking through his words. “If you let me finish, I was going to say Elijah is my ex’s best friend. He’s not going to touch me. They have a code of honor.” She finished with a twist of lips.

  Tyler huffed out a breath. “Yeah, I bet.”

  “Hey, I’m tough and know how to take care of myself,” Jess said in irritation. “I’ve been doing this for a while.”

  Tyler held up his hands. “Fine. If you want to keep being a superhero, you go right ahead. I watch those movies. The ladies in them are seriously hot. My brother did stunts for a couple of them.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Jess asked, interested, but she couldn’t help grinning. “For the ladies?”

  “Funny. But yeah, Adam says they use guys to do women’s stunts. He can tell you all about it. Adam’s full of himself so he can go on—yackity, yackity.” Tyler mimed a mouth talking with his hand.

  Jess heard his pride for his brother though, and his fondness. “You like your brothers.”

  “Sure, they’re good guys.” Tyler looked out the window as they merged onto the loop of the 635, heading south. “When they’re asleep. Only time they shut up.”

  But he worked with them, fought with them, joked with them. Jess felt a pang of envy. She had no family anymore, except Dominic, whom she loved with a fierceness that scared her sometimes.

  “You have kids?” she asked.

  Tyler’s laugh filled the truck. “Me? No. No kids, no wife. Carefree bachelor. If people still call it that.”

  Jess noticed he didn’t say “no girlfriend.” She bit the inside of her mouth so she wouldn’t ask.

  “My brothers are married,” Tyler went on, unprompted. “Adam married his high-school sweetheart, and Grant married the girl he lusted after in high school—not the same thing. Carter married Grace, and he’d been jonesing for her since they were in grade school.” He shook his head. “I guess no one does anything in Riverbend schools except look for marriage partners. Carter already has a daughter—sweet little thing—and Bailey and Christina—my sisters-in-law—had kids earlier this year. Bailey a boy, and Christina a girl. Grace now is ready to pop with her firstborn. I’m about to be an uncle four times over.”

  Jessica’s heart burned. It sounded nice, brothers and sisters-in-law, nieces and nephews, connections Jess was never going to have.

  “Congratulations,” she said.

  “Huh. Means I’ll be stuck babysitting a lot, I’ll bet.” Tyler shook his head, his groan of pain a little softer. “Here it is, sweetheart. Take this exit, and the first driveway into the lot.”

  Jessica followed his directions, pulling into a Texas chain hotel that was nice, not the seedy dives her ex’d had them stay in whenever they rode out of town. Nothing fancy, Tyler had said, but it was a hell of a lot nicer than some apartments she’d lived in.

  Tyler waved her to a place in the dark lot, saying he didn’t have to be dropped off at the front door like a baby. His room was just up a flight of outside stairs around the back.

  Jess parked and turned off the truck, sliding out of it and hurrying around to the other side to help Tyler down. He was already prying himself out of the passenger seat, dropping to his feet. Jessica slid an arm around him, bracing herself to hold him.

  He came unbalanced as he landed, his weight crashing into Jess and her weaker leg. Tyler caught himself, but not before he’d pressed the length of his hard body against Jessica, sending pins and needles of energy from the top of her head down the backs of her legs.

  Tyler straightened up, but he kept his arm around Jess’s shoulders. His blue eyes were dark in the night, his smile as hot as his touch.

  “Thank you, darlin’,” he said in all sincerity. “You all right? I
fall like a ton of bricks.”

  “I’m fine.” Jessica straightened, felt shaky, and ducked out of his embrace to steady herself on the cold side of the pickup. “Like I said, I have a son. I catch him all the time.”

  “Yeah, but he can’t be as big and ugly as me. Come on, sweetheart, I’ll get you that cab.”

  Jessica didn’t like the dart of disappointment that went through her. Yes, she needed to get back to the bar to pick up her bike, and she needed most of all to go home to Dominic, who’d be asleep by now. His babysitter was good at seeing he went to bed on time.

  But for some reason she wanted to linger here with Tyler. Talk to him. Ask him more about his brothers and sisters-in-law, how they’d gotten together, what he’d meant when he’d said Grant lusting over his wife-to-be in high school wasn’t the same thing as having a high-school sweetheart. She wanted to ask him about the brother called Carter, who would be furious at Tyler for getting bruises on his face, but who’d fallen in love with the woman who was now his wife way back in grade school.

  Most of all, she simply wanted to hear his voice, as warm and comforting as a Texas summer wind.

  There was a wind now, hot with a touch of humidity, bringing with it the smell and noise of the city. The 635 ran heavy with traffic even at this hour, cars and trucks swishing by only a few yards from the hotel’s parking lot.

  I’m feeling good because he’s being nice to me, Jessica told herself. He’s being nice because we just met. Everyone in Texas is taught to be polite to strangers. That’s all this is.

  Tyler, unaware of her inner dilemma, took a step, heading for the hotel.

  His leg folded up under him, and he ended up sitting on the asphalt, banging back into the wheel of his truck. “Fucking hell,” he muttered.

  Jessica bent over him, hand on his shoulder. “You okay?”

  “Shit.” Tyler’s face was twisted with pain. “I’m fine—just … Damn it. Help me up, darlin’, will you? I look like an asshole—a drunk asshole. Wish I was drunk. It would hurt less.” He caught her hands and got his feet beneath him. “One, two, three …”