Loving Lies (5 page)

Tight, hard abs tempted her fingers as he passed her, but she refrained, barely, from reaching out and testing their hard-packed power once again. In response, his hand settled on her hip as they stepped back to the ground, watching as the beat-up, four-wheel drive pickup drew into the clearing with the self-proclaimed uncle to all, Ron, at the wheel, looking less than pleased.

Chapter Four

 

Uncle Ron, Ron Jackman, was a lean, grizzled, hard-living salesman with a pleasant smile that could turn dangerous in less time than it took a man to draw breath. The glint in his pale blue eyes was less than comforting as he stepped up to the RV and stared Slade in the eye for a long moment. When he turned to Jessie, his smile was easy, lazy, but with a hint of steel.

“Well, at least you're alive,” he grunted as Slade curled his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer to him. “Rhonda was afraid we lost you in the dark somewhere last night until Jazz finally pulled his head out of his rear and remembered you coming in here to hide from Billy.”

His voice was a deep baritone, radiating friendliness despite the suspicion in his eyes as he turned back to Slade. “You could have let me know you had her. We've been searching everywhere for her.”

Something Slade should have thought of. Most of the men who gathered at the parties watched out for the women who came there, especially the younger ones. Jessie was especially looked after, considering some of the new riffraff showing up on the lake in the past few years.

“Sorry about that, Ron.” Jessie leaned closer to Slade, the warmth of her seeping into his very pores as his arm tightened on her. “I should have thought to call you. I just didn't think about it.”

Rhonda had been watching out for Jessie as long as she had been coming to the parties. She was one of the special girls Rhonda had taken under her wing long ago. You didn't mess with her babies and get away with it.

Ron ran his hand over his dark cheeks, his gaze slicing to Slade again. Slade hid his smile, knowing the other man was just waiting to tear into him. There could be no mistaking the fact that he and Jessie were now lovers. And Slade had no intention of trying to hide it.

“Why don't you go on in and see if I stocked the fridge with anything for lunch.” He kissed the top of her head as his hand ran down her back, everything inside him rejecting the idea of letting her go.

“Why? So the two of you can argue about why I'm here?” She laughed, genuine amusement rather than anger shining in her eyes as she turned her face up to him. “You two are watching each other like a pair of dogs ready to square off. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't where I wanted to be.”

Slade smiled back at her, a rakish smile that brought a flush of heat to her cheeks and hunger to her eyes.

“Go on, minx.” He smacked her rear, ignoring the playful swipe she took to his head as she turned and bounced inside the RV, sliding the door closed with a smart little snap.

Slade turned back to Ron, crossing his arms over his chest, and stared at the other man silently.

Scratching his chest in irritation, Ron shook his head before a cold, thin smile shaped his lips.

“You should get rid of your garbage ‘fore taking on something that sweet,” he growled, nodding toward the RV where Jessie searched the kitchen.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Slade frowned, confusion knitting his brows as Ron grimaced.

“Amy's at the clearing looking for you. She's driven us crazy running that four-wheeler of her uncle's around the parked vehicles. You're damned lucky only a few of us know you like to come here. I doubt it would be pretty if she found you holed up with Jessie.” His gaze was sharp, suspicious. “I hope you're not playing with that kid, Slade. I wouldn't be happy.”

Ron wasn't prone to comment or concern himself with other's affairs. He kept his private business private and allowed others the same consideration. The fact that he was giving the warning was due more to the affectionate protectiveness Jessie inspired in the men who gathered together each weekend.

“What makes you happy isn't something I lay awake at night worrying about, Ron.” Slade grinned to take the sting out of his words. “Come on, man, you knew this was coming the same as I did. I thought I could run from it this weekend until I turned around and realized she'd been sleeping in the RV the whole time I'd been heading out here. She's mine. I wouldn't have kept her here if I didn't intend to hold onto her.”

He could feel that band tightening around his throat again. Commitment. Like an over-tight collar threatening to smother him.

Ron stared back at him, his eyes cold. It was more than evident he wasn't satisfied with the explanation.

“You better do something about the Jennings girl then. She obviously thinks she has a hold on you, and you know damned good and well she's never particularly liked Jessie.”

Amy could be a mean witch at the best of times. She was a good woman, and for a while, until the past month actually, she had been his partner on a secret operation for the F.B.I in conjunction with the Office of Homeland Security. The fact that she worked for the agency and lived close enough to him that he knew her well had worked out for them and the operation. The fact that she was looking so hard for him could be a problem.

“Amy doesn't have a hold on me.” Slade shook his head, trying to push away the memory that the operation they had worked on had been dropped rather than completed, and the needed information still hadn't been gained.

”You better hope she doesn't,” the other man grunted, rubbing his hand roughly over his lower face. “Because if she goes after Jessie and you let her tear into her…”

“No one will hurt Jessie.” The smothering sensation disappeared beneath the instinctive, furious urge to shelter Jessie.

“Make sure of it,” Ron warned him firmly. “And expect Rhonda to tear you a new ass next time you see her. Jessie has been one of her babies for years, and she's worried herself to death since the girl came up missing. She won't be happy that you didn't let her know where she was.”

Rhonda was Ron's wife. A petite, blonde-haired spitfire who everyone knew better than to mess with. She was friendly as hell, smiling, laughing, making everyone feel welcome. But mess with one of her babies, whether the child or person she had taken under wing was her blood or not, and she would take an iron skillet to your head. She had been known to do that on more than one occasion.

“Jazz and Zack said to tell you they're kicking your ass too.” Ron smiled then. A real pleased, exuberant kind of smile that had Slade grimacing. Jazz and Zack had been his best friends all his life. They were presently partners in a rapidly growing home construction company that threatened to make them very comfortable, wealthy old men one day.

And Slade had no doubt they would kick his ass. They were usually damned good at keeping their word.

“I can see you're looking forward to it,” Slade muttered. “Hell, you'd think I took off with a minor the way you're acting. She's of age, Ron.”

“And I have a feeling you fucked up,” Ron drawled. “And that kid you've hijacked this weekend is going to be the one to pay the price. If that happens, I'll kick your ass, and you can bet I won't leave you walking when I'm finished.” His finger poked into Slade's chest, causing him to blink at Ron in shock before narrowing his eyes.

“If I fuck up and lose her, then you won't have to kick it.” He knocked the other man's hand back, tensing, preparing to meet the challenge in Ron's eyes. He didn't want to tangle with the gutter fighter he knew his friend was, but he would if he had to. “If I lose her…”

He snapped his lips closed. Fuck it. “This is my business, Ron, not yours. Not now, not ever.”

Ron flexed his shoulders, his anger more than apparent, even as confusing as it was. What the hell had Amy done to piss him off so hard? Slade couldn't fathom the reason behind it, but he knew he would damned sure get to the bottom of it.

“I'll take care of Amy after I take Jessie home tomorrow,” he snarled, furious at the other man's interference and threats. “I'll deal with whatever the hell she thinks she's doing and Jessie won't be affected. You know better than to think I'd hurt her.”

“And I don't think you'll have a choice,” Ron bit out. “That's the pissy part, Slade. Amy plain pissed me off while she was out there this morning, and her smart-assed shit didn't go over real well with Rhonda either.”

And when Rhonda wasn't happy, Ron got nervous.

“I'll take care of Amy.” Slade pushed his fingers through his hair in irritation. What the hell could she be up to?

“Yeah, you do that,” Ron muttered, jerking the door of the truck open as he glanced back at him. “And watch your ass, boy, because I think it's about to get fried.”

He swung into the pickup, revved the motor, and threw his hand up in farewell as Jessie stepped from the RV. A second later he was backing away from the camp spot with a squeal of tires before he turned and headed back to the main road.

“Well, that didn't appear to be a pleasant conversation.” There was a question in her voice he couldn't answer. Hell, he didn't know what was going on himself.

“You know Ron,” he finally sighed. “I guess they thought the bogeyman had dragged you off last night.”

“Didn't he?” She laughed up at him as he pulled her to him, her arms going around his waist. Slade pressed his face into her hair, inhaling the scent of tanning lotion, sunlight and lemon.

Amy wasn't typically a troublemaker, but she had been chasing him for months before he gave in and gave her what she seemed to want. A dumb move, he admitted. Damned dumb, and one he regretted less than a week into it. Hell, he should have just kidnapped Jessie the way he had wanted to and spent the week screwing her brains out. That would have been the smart thing to do. She would have been in his house by now, sharing his bed every night.

Which didn't seem like such a bad idea. Hell, he didn't have to run out right now and buy rings, right? She could just move in with him. He had a nice house, plenty of room for anything her little apartment held, and anything else she might want.

“So, did I bring any food?” he finally asked, pushing back his thoughts and concentrating on the sweet face staring up at him.

“If you count beer and chips as food.” Her grimace assured him she didn't. “Tell you what, we could go fishing. You clean them, I'll fry them.”

Surprise did nothing to still the warm surge of emotion filling him.

“Sounds good to me.” He nodded abruptly. “I did think to bring bait and poles. You're in luck, sugar, the river is right real close and it's some of the best catfishing around.”

 

 

 

Jessie was silent as they rested under the shade of thickly leafed trees, fishing lines thrown out into the water. She sat on one of the padded loungers he had carried from the RV for her. She watched the red and white bobber intently, not so much focused on any movement of the little ball, but focused more on Slade.

She had fantasized about him for years. Ached for him until she thought her chest would explode from the need for his touch, his kiss. He was her first lover, the only man to really touch her, to take her. And she was suddenly terrified of him.

Not physically. She had a healthy attitude toward sex, and experimenting didn't worry her in the least. Sexually, she didn't think there was anything Slade could do that would scare her away. He wasn't into sharing, and last she heard the games he liked to play weren't exactly painful.

No, it was the man she was glimpsing beyond the easy, wicked smiles and lust-filled gaze that made her suddenly self-conscious, made her aware of her own youth and inexperience.

He was twenty-seven, but he was older than her in more than just years. Four years in college, one doing only God knew what and two creating the rapidly growing construction business for which he and his friends had pooled their finances together. Rigor Construction was growing fast, its reputation and work in building homes speaking for itself. Slade had spent most of that time in Washington, D.C., working to pull in more government contracts for the building company. But there was something about Slade, about the year he spent with only infrequent visits home, that bothered her. Not that he hadn't settled in after coming back. He had, but Jessie was aware that in that year, Slade had changed in subtle, dark ways.

There was also the fact that Slade wasn't just a small-town boy anymore. He attended parties in D.C., moved in a cutthroat business world, and knew people that boggled her mind.

He looked as comfortable now, though, in cut-off jeans with bare feet, as he did in the suit he had worn when he attended a fundraiser in Washington, D.C. She doubted she could pick out a proper dress for such a party, let alone appear as confident, as self-assured as he did.

And she loved him. God, she loved him until it hurt, but the knowledge that she had no idea how to move in his world was beginning to weigh on her. She was a country girl, nothing more, nothing less. She had been raised in the mountains of Kentucky and had no desire to leave them. She wanted to settle down with the man who held her heart, have babies, do other people's taxes on the side and spend her nights in his arms.

But how could that ever be enough for him?

Amy Jennings had been quite vocal for the past weeks that she had finally snagged Slade. Despite the fact that he had spent less than a week with her, she was smug, self-assured, and confident that a ring would be forthcoming. For a while, Jessie had worried herself sick that Slade would marry the other woman. Mostly because she saw in Amy something she herself didn't possess. That same confidence and arrogance Slade wore so comfortably.

Beside her, Jessie felt like a country bumpkin in borrowed clothes.