Page 59 of Texas Kissing
46
Lily
The next morning, Bull had to pick up rope for the ranch from the hardware store, so we figured we might as well grab a coffee in town. We took both cars so that I’d be able to head back to the bus when we’d finished, and I bought the coffees while he bought the rope.
I was dumping huge amounts of cold milk into Bull’s Americano when it happened.
“Miss?” A voice that didn’t belong in Texas. A voice as out of place as my own. I spun around to look.
Big. As tall as Bull, although not quite as massively built. He was clean-cut where Bull had stubble, his hair neat where Bull’s was tousled. Even his face was refined, with high cheekbones to offset the strong jaw. He could have been sculpted by some Renaissance artist, cast in marble for ladies to drool over. The sort of smart, good-looking guy who could have been a banker or a stockbroker.
But his suit and his shoes didn’t saybankerorstockbroker.They said three letters that I’d been halfexpecting to hear for the last two years. Letters he was going to say any second, right after his name.
“Samuel Calahan,” he said with a smile. Then he opened his mouth again.
Time seemed to slow down. I felt my body locking up. It didn’t matter that I’d been preparing myself for years for exactly this situation. I knew I had to run, but I couldn’t fucking move.
“F—” said Calahan.
I looked behind him, towards the coffee shop door. He’d catch me before I got anywhere near it.
“...B…” said Calahan.
I picked up Bull’s coffee..
“...I,” finished Calahan.
I swung my arm, squeezing the cup as I did so to pop the plastic top off. Twenty ounces of hot coffee hit Calahan square in the chest and he staggered back, cursing and flailing at himself. I bolted past him and crashed through the door. I was panicking too much to think clearly.He’s going to take me back to New York! He’s going to make me testify and—
Outside, the blinding sunlight restarted my brain. All my planning kicked in and I knew exactly what I had to do. I ran across the parking lot.
In my car was my Go Bag. A simple little backpack stuffed with clothes, money and enough fake IDs to get me into almost any country I wanted, plus a Taser, water, energy bars and an encrypted USB flash drive with a backup of all my work. That was Plan B - get in my car and drive.
There might still be time for Plan A, though. Plan A was to drive back to the bus and pick it up. Most people make the mistake of thinking that because the bus has been parked in the same spot for two years, itcan’t move. But I keep it fully fueled and even give it a little test run every few months. Everything I cared about could come with me.
And that was when I realized my plans were out of date. I froze, standing beside my car, for fatal seconds.
None of my plans had ever accounted for a hulking cowboy I was crazy about.Shit!What was I going to do? I couldn’t ask Bull to come with me to Mexico (my first choice) or Canada (my second). He had a whole life here. He had family and—
A hand landed on my shoulder and whipped me around, keeping a tight hold of me.
Calahan’s shirt was still steaming and the soaked, brown fabric was sticking wetly to his skin, showing off a muscled chest.
“That,” he said tightly, “wasnot polite.”
I tried to wriggle out of his hand, but he had a grip like a vice.
“I just want to talk, Tessa,” he said. “Just talk.”
Just hearing that name again brought it all crashing back. I hated him for that. I glared at him and tried to yank my shoulder out of his hand again.
“Do you want me to put cuffs on you?” he asked. “I’ve got some.” He patted a pocket. “They may be a little damp, but they’ll work.”
I glanced around. A few passers-by had noticed us, but so far they were studiously pretending they hadn’t. Just a woman arguing with her boyfriend. That would all change as soon as the cuffs went on. Everyone in town would know my secret in about thirty seconds.
If I talked to him, it gave me options. I stopped trying to wrestle out of his grip. “Talk,” I snapped.
He cautiously took his hand off my shoulder, readyto clap it back on again if I tried to run. When I stayed where I was, he reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. It was limp and soggy with coffee, but I recognized the image as soon as I saw it: Bull and I in period dress, at the fair. A screenshot from a newspaper’s website. “What the ever-lovingfuck?”I whispered.