Chapter Seven
“Tell me what you’ve done that has Fletcher’s panties in a bundle?”
Embarrassment flooded her cheeks. “I don’t know—”
“Fine! I used to pee the bed,” Bear said.
“Excuse me?” Her long lashes fluttered against the tops of her cheeks. “Recently?”
He laughed. “No, not recently. Up until I was five. Not every single night. Only when I had a nightmare. I used to be scared to death of aliens.”
“Why are you telling me?”
“If you’re going to be embarrassed then I will be too. I’m confident you won’t divulge this top-secret information to anyone that I’ve told you. It could destroy my tough reputation.”
“I can take a secret to my grave.” One corner of her mouth lifted.
“I was selling foot pics on Cowgirl Delight Fan Page to pay my way through college. Bentley said he couldn’t be with someone who’d done something so despicable.
He even used the word despicable. The future representative for Texas can’t be associated with someone with poor taste.
” Aasia swirled the ice around the glass.
“Do you think I’m despicable, Bear?” She looked up at him with those big, beautiful eyes.
“No, I don’t think you’re despicable.” Bear swallowed against the tightness in his throat.
“Fletcher’s a dickhead.” For as long as he and Aasia had been friends, not once had he seen her this tipsy.
Everyone deserved to have some liquid therapy after a breakup.
At least he could be here to make sure she made it home safely.
“Remember, sweetheart. You’re a novel and books are never distasteful.
They’re pieces of art.” He groaned inwardly.
He was being sappy, but she didn’t seem to mind.
When he saw her for the first time, he’d felt his body burn with a new fire.
She’d been riding the mechanical bull here at Oscar’s that had been installed for a weekend festival.
He’d give his right arm if that bull was a permanent fixture.
He was staring at her and almost tumbled off the stool.
Maybe she wasn’t the only one who’d had too much to drink.
“Did you drive here?” he asked. He certainly hoped not.
“No. I caught a ride from my neighbor, Pete. He said he’d slide by and pick me up later, but I told him I’d be okay. His old truck smells like motor oil. And limes.” She lifted the collar of her shirt and sniffed. “I smell like motor oil and limes now too.” Her pert nose wrinkled.
Bear thought she smelled like cupcakes and buttercream frosting. God, he’d love to eat a cupcake right now. “I’ve been in his truck. He always has those citrus air fresheners hanging from his rearview mirror. If he thinks they cover the odor of his marijuana habit he’s mistaken.”
“He talked about Pedora the entire ride in. He’s head over heels. I told him he should just ask her out already.” Aasia licked her bottom lip that sent strong awareness through Bear.
“Why didn’t you drive?”
“Car’s broke down again. Can’t shift it out of park.” She heaved a sigh. “It’s at the shop until morning.” She pulled the drink closer and cupped the glass with both hands. “What time is it?”
“After nine,” he said.
“Then I have plenty of time to drown my sorrows away.” Tears misted her eyes, but she blinked and the moisture disappeared. “You’re such a good friend.” She patted his shoulder and the off-balance of weight sent the stool toppling.
He up-righted her and the stool. She didn’t seem to notice or care. “I try.” He winked.
“Why are men so stupid?” she groaned. “Please tell me what I’m missing?”
He bit his bottom lip to keep from laughing. “Not all men are stupid, right?”
“That remains to be seen,” she huffed. “Except for my present company of course. You’re smart, Bear.” She planted her hand against his chest and thrummed her finger. “And built.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” He winked.
The fringed hem of the jean skirt she wore brushed against her toned thighs.
With each drink the hem scooted an inch higher on her long, toned legs.
The blouse with the low-cut neckline showed off the valley between her breasts, revealing just enough to make a man say a prayer for relief from the torment.
“Aasia, I know you might not want to hear this, but Fletcher gives all men a bad name. Maybe it’s time to break the cycle and move on. You deserve someone who appreciates you. Someone who loves you the way you need to be loved.”
“And how do I need to be loved, Bear?” Their gazes locked.
Her lips were supple and full…and those eyes.
They were sending a silent message, and he wasn’t sure he was reading that message clearly.
Guilt slithered through him. What would she do if she found out that Bear had been monitoring Fletcher’s actions for months?
And because she’d been near Fletcher on many of those occasions Bear had been privy to their arguments.
She shifted and the deep V of her shirt gapped.
He couldn’t resist a long look of the lace trim on the red bra.
He was the despicable one. He shouldn’t be staring at her tits like a horny schoolboy, but the need he had infiltrated every neuron in his brain, blurring the lines between right and wrong.
Maybe Grimes had a point, unfortunately.
Bear swallowed the knot developing in his throat.
A part of him wanted to tell her the truth, but what good would it do to explain that he was working uncover?
His entire team, Texas Heat, occupied Creed’s Creek Ranch.
He wished the case would burst wide open but things like this took time—a slow hand.
Sort of like whatever was happening between he and Aasia.
Her eyes glistened with desire, but her words reminded him that he didn’t want to be a rebound.
“You should be loved the way you want to be loved. From someone who has the emotional intelligence of a man and not a boy.”
One brow lifted above her iridescent eyes. She picked up his left hand and turned it over, running the tip of her short fingernail along his rough and callused palm as she leaned closer to inspect it. “I used to be able to read palms.”
“Used to? It’s not like riding a bike?” He chuckled.
“A lot of palm reading is about intuition. Somewhere along the way I must have lost that ability.” Her moan came from deep within her chest. “If I had fine-tuned intuition, I would have seen Bentley’s true colors and walked, no ran, the other direction.”
“Sometimes we have to weather the storm to get to the rainbow.”
“Wow. You have a deep heart line.” She followed the groove with her finger. “The love line governs all matters of the heart, including romance, sex and commitment. Oh…that’s very interesting.”
“Yeah?” he said. She let go of his hand like she got burnt. “Wait. You’re not going to tell me what you found?”
“Are you into palmistry?” she asked.
“Maybe.” If he could be truthful, he’d tell her that he enjoyed her holding his hand, the way the ends of her hair brushed his skin and the lovely scent of her. Being near her was the ultimate good vibe.
Her mouth twisted as she took ahold of his hand again. “Be open-minded. This is your love line.” She pointed to one of the creases. “Think of it as a fingerprint. It’s unique to you.”
“Hmm. What does my love line say to you?”
“Well, you don’t always communicate how you feel and tend to be solitary when it comes to love.” Her gaze settled on him. “You can also be disconnected which can make people think you’re cold but you’re not. You’re actually very caring about people who mean something to you.”
“All that from a palm, huh?”
She released his hand. “All that from a palm.” She winked.
He flexed his hand because her touch had left his palm warm. “You don’t know a damn thing about reading palms, do you?”
She laughed. “Nope. Not a thing, but I had you going. What are you hiding, Bear?” She’d edged closer, her tongue sliding out across as if the words had left a taste on her lips.
“Excuse me?” He shifted on the stool, his Wranglers fitting snugger. He looked at his hand. “Did my palm tell you I’m hiding something?”
“I see the walls in your eyes. You’re a mystery, Bear.” She touched his wrist. “Not that it’s a surprise. And not that I’m complaining. I’ve never been afraid of puzzles.”
“I’m just a simple cowboy, ma’am. Living and breathing the land.”
She lay back, smiling. “You’re the least simple man I’ve ever met.” She plucked the cherry out of her frothy pink drink and bit into the plump fruit.
He had it bad if he found it sexy to watch a woman eat, but damn…he wanted to lick that tiny drop of juice off her bottom lip. Shit, she beat him to it.
“How would you take me asking you questions?” Her beautiful eyes sunk right through his raw surface.
“What would you like to know?” This could be a dangerous conversation, but he enjoyed the casual flirting.
With many other women he’d been fast about taking things to the next level and even faster getting the hell out of dodge.
With Aasia, he wanted to take thigs as slow as an IV drip so he could savor every second.
“Hmm.” She rolled the cherry stem around her forefinger and thumb. “What was your childhood like?”
“Fishing poles, skipping rocks, and shenanigans. It was a good childhood. The best.”
Wendi set a bowl of pretzels near them and Bear reached for it at the same time as she did. Their fingers brushed and he smiled. “Ladies first.”
He felt something trapped in his chest. Something sweet and dangerous.
She recoiled, giving a nervous laugh. “No, you go ahead. You take the pretzels. I read once that a lot of people don’t wash their hands when they use the restroom and then they reach into the bar snacks.”
“Those are fresh pretzels,” Wendi chimed in.
“Can a man get a drink around here?” Tipsy Tim swayed on his stool at the end of the bar. He frequented the bar so much he got the nickname. Bear didn’t mind the old man, but at times he could get a bit abrasive when he’d had a few too many.
“Hold your horses!” Wendi sighed. She looked back at Aasia and said, “I can’t wait until I’m done with my nursing degree. Three more classes and I’m out of this place.”
Bear watched to make sure Tipsy Tim behaved himself with Wendi and then said to Aasia, “Just so we’re clear, I always wash my hands.”
She sipped her drink through the straw, but her gaze was directed at the couples on the dance floor.
“If I remember correctly, you like to dance.” He’d enjoyed watching her dance the last few times she’d been in Oscar’s. He needed to cool himself. He was starting to sound like a perfected stalker. Bear had the utmost respect for woman. His ma had taught him well.
With a quick shrug, she said, “It can be therapeutic. Listening to music. Closing your eyes. Allowing your body to sway. How about you? Can you shake those hips?”
“Want to be the judge of that?” He slipped off the stool and laid out his hand.
There was a second hesitation before she laid her hand in his.
She felt so soft against his rougher skin.
He became fully aware how his knuckles were covered in rough skin and his nails were surrounded by hangnails.
He never broke the habit of chewing his nails to the quick when he was deep in thought.
But she didn’t seem to notice. She stood and they made their way to the dance floor, just as the upbeat song faded and a slow one played.
“I think I can manage to not step on your toes,” he said.
“I’d rather not have a size eleven on my toes.” She stepped close and he wrapped his arms around her waist.
“Size twelves,” he corrected her.
Their bodies were flush and he instantly felt a jerk below his belt. He should never have invited her to dance because he knew he couldn’t hide what she did to his body. He wasn’t doing a very good job of behaving himself so he couldn’t judge Tipsy Tim. However, Bear couldn’t blame alcohol.
They moved together to the Luke Combs song, like wheels moving in the same direction. He hummed along to one of his favorite country tunes.
She laid her head back to look up at him, a smile situated on her lovely lips. The neon sign on the wall behind him gave her a glow.
“I’m just going to say this. Let’s not pretend any longer. There’s an attraction between us that’s getting harder and harder to deny. Am I wrong?” Her eyes were like a beam lighting his way to uncharted territories.
She could rope the moon with her bright eyes. “Liquid courage is a thing.” He swallowed hard.
“Are you playing coy with me, handsome?”
This was a new side to her.
Bear could hardly breathe as the air between them thickened, tension buzzing like a live wire.
The gentle teasing and her lingering gaze made it impossible for him to ignore the chemistry pulsing in the space they shared.
He watched as her stance toward him shifted into playful disdain, and her lyrical dismissal was both bold and freeing, making Bear wonder if tonight was the moment everything would change between them.
But he pumped the brakes.
There was a lot to him that she didn’t know. He wasn’t intentionally keeping secrets, but if she knew his secrets would she still want him? Trust him?