7. Jezebel

CHAPTER 7

JEZEBEL

I cursed under my breath as the asshole who’d been hitting on me at the Salt Shaker yesterday evening strode in my direction.

“You need a hand?”

“Are you kidding me?”

“So, sorry about last night. Kayla gets a little crazy sometimes.”

“A little crazy? She stabbed me in the fucking thigh.”

“I kept telling Conner he needs to keep her under control.” He grinned. “But she’s out of the picture now, so there’s no reason you and me can’t go out.”

“Didn’t you have a date with you?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, but it’s nothing serious.”

Was the universe laughing at me right now?

“Listen to me very carefully. You have five seconds to turn around and get back into your truck, and if you don’t move fast enough, I’m going to use this crutch to hit your testicles so hard that they’ll lodge in your throat.”

He stared at me for one long second, and then he laughed. “Hey, you’re playing hard to get. I like it.”

“Five… Four… ”

Another truck pulled up. For the love of fuck…

“Having car trouble, ma’am?”

This guy was older, late thirties, dressed in jeans and cowboy boots. He swaggered toward me with his thumbs stuck in his belt loops.

“I have a tow truck on the way.”

“Eh, don’t waste your money. I’m real good with cars. Used to spend time in my daddy’s auto shop back in Kansas.”

“Thanks, but I don’t need help.”

“Pop the hood, and I’ll take a look.”

“Get away from my car.”

“Now, now, there’s no need to be rude. I’m a nice guy.”

And I had two crutches.

“You offered help; I declined. It’s not a difficult notion.”

“Why are you being so difficult about this? I didn’t have to stop. You looked better from a distance, anyway.”

Heaven help me. If he didn’t shut up, I was going to end up in jail, and Priest would bitch like hell about having to bail me out.

“Are you fond of having teeth?”

“Say what? Women like you need to learn their place.”

I was about to give him a permanent lisp when another vehicle stopped behind me. Damn, I hated eyewitnesses.

“Bella, you okay?”

Fuck. I froze. And Cole must have mistaken my horror for fear because he planted himself in front of me, six feet of righteous indignation.

“Get the hell away from her.”

Salt Shaker Guy held up both hands. “Sorry, man. Didn’t realise she was spoken for.”

Cowboy Boots wasn’t quite so gracious. “You oughta teach her some manners.”

He seemed to be waiting for an answer to a question he didn’t ask, so I threw my right crutch like a javelin. The pointy end jabbed nicely into his ribs, and he doubled over, gasping.

Cole winced and folded his arms. “Seems to me that she’s doing just fine by herself.”

In hindsight, that was the moment I should have realised I had a problem.

But like a fool, I simply stood beside a pissed-off Cole as Cowboy Boots took a step forward and considered retaliating but ultimately decided against it. Instead, he slung the crutch back at us, and it landed harmlessly at my feet. We watched him stomp away with Salt Shaker Guy right behind him.

I almost wished they’d stayed.

Getting into a brawl would have been far more fun than having a roadside chat, even with the disadvantage of multiple injuries.

“What happened to your leg?” he asked after a long pause, stooping to pick up my crutch.

“I tripped down some stairs.”

“Sorry to hear it.” This was why I shied away from sleeping with locals. To avoid awkward conversations outside a chicken restaurant. “You’re okay apart from the, uh, cast?”

“Pretty much.”

Or at least, I was until you showed up.

“What about that guy?” He nodded after Cowboy Boots.

“Are we talking physically or personality-wise?”

“Physically.”

“He’ll be fine, unfortunately.”

Cole pondered that for a moment. “I’m not usually a fan of violence, but I guess he deserved it. What happened with the car?”

“She breaks down a lot. The tow truck should be here soon. ”

Cole leaned to look through the window. “She’s a beaut. Not the kind of car I imagined you driving.”

“I guess you could call her an inheritance.”

He straightened. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

I nearly said “I’m sorry for yours,” but I remembered at the last moment that I wasn’t supposed to know about his connection to Uncle Mike.

“It was a long time ago.”

“Time heals, but it doesn’t erase.” He closed his eyes for a second and took a breath, and I knew it wasn’t only my life that had been touched by sorrow. “If I offered to buy you lunch, would that be weird?”

“Probably. I actually need to go pick up treats for my friend’s dog.”

“Swear I’m not trying to stalk you, but I came here for cat food. Took an early lunch break.”

“You have a cat?”

“You inherited the car; I inherited a Siamese named Tinkerbell.”

Now I could say it. “I’m sorry for your loss too. A relative?”

“My uncle. We weren’t close, but…” He trailed off. “My car’s right here. Want me to drop you at the door?”

I could easily walk the two hundred yards, but I wasn’t going to act like a bitch to Cole, not when he was being genuinely nice and not when he’d be moving his car to the store’s parking lot anyway.

“Sure.”

His car was a Prius, not a new one, and the inside smelled of Lysol. He caught me wrinkling my nose and grimaced.

“Tinkerbell was sick a couple of weeks ago. She clawed her way out of the carrier on the way to the vet and puked on the seat. The back seat, not the one you’re sitting on.”

“She’s okay now? ”

He nodded. “The veterinarian thought she ate something bad. She doesn’t go beyond the yard, and I checked the house… I don’t know. The paint in the hallway seems to be degrading.”

“Degrading?”

“It went sticky for a day or so. Maybe she brushed against it and then licked her fur.”

“Really? When was this?”

“Right after we—” He blew out a breath. “Forget it. You obviously had your reasons for splitting, and I’m not going to pry. I’m just glad you’re okay.” Another glance at my leg. “Mostly okay.”

Fuck, Valeria didn’t check the paint dried before she left?

“The morning after always sucks. Awkward conversations over breakfast, guys wanting more than I can give and getting pushy. It’s easier to slip away. Sorry.”

Sorry. The word felt foreign on my tongue. I rarely apologised for anything, mainly because I didn’t give a fuck what most people thought of me.

“I guess I can understand that. Emotional entanglement is the last thing I want either, especially when I won’t be staying in Las Vegas for much longer.”

“You won’t? The house is a rental? You should speak to your landlord about the paint.”

Cole turned into the parking lot and headed for the front. “I own the house at the moment, but as soon as I resolve the difficulties with my uncle’s estate, I’m going home.”

“Where’s home?”

I already knew the answer, but if he told me himself, I wouldn’t have to pretend I didn’t.

“San Gallicano. It’s an archipelago in the Caribbean.”

“West of Saint Vincent, right?”

“I’m impressed. Most people can’t find it on the map. ”

“I think I saw it on a travel show recently. Do you live on the main island?”

“No, a smaller one. Emerald Shores. It’s a little slice of paradise and about as different from Vegas as you can get.”

My phone buzzed.

Echo

Is this who I think it is?

There was a bird’s-eye view of Cole and me, his hand on the small of my back as he opened the passenger door for me. Echo could be a real pain in the ass sometimes. How long until that satellite was out of range?

Sin

Could be? I only saw the rear view.

Me

No comment.

Marcel

OMG, OMG, OMG!

“You’re popular,” Cole remarked.

“Oh, it’s just a chat with my writing group. One of the girls is having man trouble.”

That girl was me.

I was having the man trouble.