“Yes, well there are rumors that they’re going to make the new ones more adult-friendly.”
Mavie glowered. “I can see where that’s headed, if it’s not just rumors. I guess
Tank laughed. “They will never do that. Imagine having to give up on all that merchandising for kids.”
“Well, I hope you’re right.” She threw up her hands and went back to the kitchen, muttering about the world in general and modern movies in particular.
“YOU’RE GOING TO TEXAS!” Mallory exclaimed when he got home.
Tank nodded. “I need to talk to the sheriff down there and compare notes. Maybe we both saw something that we don’t remember and discussing it will pop it out.”
“It’s dangerous,” Cane said quietly. “For you to go alone.”
“I’m not taking Rourke with me,” he told his brothers. “In case you wondered. He’s needed here, to keep an eye on you and the Bakers.”
“But, Tank...” Mallory began to protest.
“Not to worry,” Rourke interrupted as he came into the room. “Sorry, didn’t mean to intrude, but I’ve got it covered. He won’t be going alone.”
“You’re not coming with me,” Tank said shortly.
“No. But I have someone who’ll be at the airport when you get there.”
“Who?” Tank asked.
“Nobody you know. Nobody you’ll recognize. And nobody will recognize him, either. But he’ll be watching. If you get into any trouble at all, you’ll be safe.”
“Thanks, Rourke,” Mallory said. “I was concerned.”
“Yeah, me, too,” Cane replied.
“I’m a grown man,” Tank protested.
“Yes, but you’re our brother, too,” Mallory said, “and we worry.”
He grinned at them. “Nice of you.”
“We’d miss the piano playing,” Cane said with a twinkle in his eyes. “Even if it is pretty sad compared to Mallory’s.”
Mallory grinned. “Truer words were never spoken.”
Tank threw a napkin at him.
HE BOOKED A flight online and then he drove over to Merissa’s house to see her.
“I’m going to Texas,” he said while they drank coffee in her kitchen at the little white table. Clara, discreetly, left them alone.
“To see Sheriff Carson.” She nodded.
He laughed wryly. “Nothing gets by you.”
“Not much, anyway.” She sipped coffee.
“Do you see anything?” he asked.
She searched his eyes. The look was long and intent and she blushed and laughed. “No. I mean, I don’t see anything bad.”
He reached across the table and took her hand in his. “You know,” he said, “I could really get addicted to that pink blush. It makes me feel dangerous.”
She laughed. “You’re not dangerous. Well, maybe a little.”
He smoothed his thumb over her soft palm. His expression hardened somewhat. “You already know about the way I was shot.”
“Yes.”
He turned her hand over and looked at it instead of her. “There are scars. Some of them are pretty bad. I never wear cutoffs, even in summer. Or go bare-chested.”
“You think the scars would matter to me?” she asked softly. She smiled. “Silly man.”
His eyes jumped up to hers. “Are you sure? Or are you just guessing?”
She started to speak when Clara came to the door carrying her purse. “I have to run to the store. I’m out of walnuts!”
Tank stared at her.
She grimaced. “Well, it’s winter and we feed birds. We feed lots of birds,” she explained. “There’s this gorgeous woodpecker—”
“Yes, he drills on the wall outside every morning until we put walnut halves on the fence.”
Tank blinked. “Walnuts?”
Clara laughed. “We buy walnuts in bulk. The woodpecker loves them. There are two pairs of them. And of course we have the little birds that stay year-round.” She sighed. “But I’m out of walnuts and he’s outside my bedroom window right now. Can’t you hear that?”
They listened. There was a loud drumming sound, like wood being hit with a nail over and over again.
“It’s him,” Clara explained. “He won’t stop until he gets fed, and I’ve nothing to feed him. So I have to run to the market.”
“Be careful,” Merissa said.
“I’m always careful. I won’t be ten minutes.” She waved and ran out the door.
“Don’t run, there’s ice!” Merissa called after her.
“Okay!” Clara called back. There was the sound of a car door opening and closing, and then an engine that eventually fired up.
Merissa winced as the car made it out of the yard. “I had a mechanic check it out for me,” she said heavily. “It starts only when it wants to.”
“I’ll have my mechanic come over and see about it.”
“Oh, no, please. You’ve done so much for us already...!”
He smoothed over her hand. “I have to take care of my best girl,” he said softly. He tugged on her hand. “Come here,” he said softly.
That deep note in his voice melted her. She got up from her chair and let him pull her gently down onto his lap.
“You need to see what you’re getting into,” he said quietly. He unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it away from his muscular, hair-covered chest.
She was so fascinated with this view of him that she didn’t notice the scars.
That rapt stare made him laugh. He’d been uneasy about showing her what the bullets had done, but she didn’t seem to find him unpleasant. In fact, her stare was flattering.
He drew her hand to the muscles under the thick, soft hair. “Here.” He drew her fingers over the thick scars where the bullets had gone in. Two had hit him in the lung and collapsed it. Another had passed under his rib cage. Two had hit his legs, in the thighs, and it had taken several surgeries to remove splintered bone and repair muscle.
“I’ve never touched a man like this,” she faltered.
He smiled. “I like that.”
“You do? Really?” she asked softly. “I was afraid... Well, you know, some modern men think it’s really stupid that women don’t pass themselves around like drinks at a bar.”
“I’m not one of them. I’m pretty old-fashioned myself.”
She traced around one of the scars and winced. “This must have been horribly painful, Dalton,” she said.
He liked the way his given name sounded on her lips. She was soft and warm and sweet. He looked at her mouth and ached to catch it under his. The way she was touching him was very arousing.
He bent and took her lips softly under his. “You taste like black coffee,” he whispered, chuckling.
