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A Bull Rider To Depend On. Jeannie WattЧитать онлайн книгу.

A Bull Rider To Depend On - Jeannie Watt


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      Jess lifted an eyebrow, and Tyler let out a breath as he dropped his gaze to study the toes of his dusty boots. The thing about being a twin was that it was pretty hard to keep the guy who looked like you from reading you. He’d denied having any kind of lingering feelings for Skye after she’d married Mason—had said that he’d moved on from that hopeless affair—but Jess wasn’t fooled. Ty knew because he could read his twin as easily as his twin read him.

      “Right,” he muttered. The situation between him and Skye was complicated—or at least it was on his end, where feelings of guilt, frustration and resentment were coupled with an attraction that refused to die. On her end, it was simple—he was the bad guy who’d encouraged her husband onto the path of self-destruction, and she’d made no secret of her beliefs.

      He was guilty to a degree. Despite Skye asking him to stay far away from Mason while on tour, he hadn’t seen where a few wild nights would hurt anyone—but he also hadn’t known how far Mason would take the whole partying thing. By the time Tyler realized what was happening, it was too late to do anything about it. The most unfortunate part was that there wasn’t a good way for Tyler to defend himself. How did you tell a woman that she didn’t know everything about her husband and his code of ethics?

      You didn’t. Not after that guy was dead.

      Jess cleared his throat. “Skye won’t be happy about me telling you, but I thought...you know.”

      Tyler shot his brother a quick look, read the concern on his face and wondered if it was for him or Skye. He couldn’t help but smirk as he said, “That she might be desperate enough to accept help from the bad twin?”

      “Something like that.” Jess picked up the remote and changed the channel again. “It might give you a chance to smooth things with her.”

      Tyler gave a yeah, right snort as the pitcher on the screen threw a perfect strike. “She doesn’t want them smoothed.”

      “She doesn’t know the facts.”

      Nor would she...although he had to admit that this might be an opportunity to show Skye that he wasn’t the jerk she thought he was. He might have had difficulties controlling his wilder impulses back in the day, but beneath it all, he was a decent guy. Just like his twin.

      And as far as Mason was concerned—Mason was always his own boss and Skye needed to accept that.

      * * *

      WHEN SKYE GOT off shift at one thirty, Jess Hayward was waiting for her by her car.

      Only it wasn’t Jess.

      The warm smile on her face cooled as she realized that the guy loitering at the edge of the parking lot was Tyler Hayward. With the exception of the small scar on Tyler’s chin, the brothers were nearly identical, right down to their haircuts—but there was something different about the way they stood. And moved. Skye had learned long ago to tell them apart at a distance. If Jess was walking toward her, she went to meet him. If it had been Tyler...she’d changed direction to avoid whatever irritating thing he was about to do to her. When they were younger, he’d threatened her with various amphibians. As they’d grown older, frogs and salamanders had changed into smart-ass comments.

      “Good morning,” he said as she stopped several feet away from him.

      “Good morning,” she echoed coolly, knowing instantly that Jess had ratted her out. With the best of intentions, no doubt, but now she had to deal with Tyler.

      “You’re looking good, Skye.”

      A compliment. That was different.

      “You, too.” She spoke with polite indifference, but, infuriatingly, the fact of the matter was that he really did look good.

      He shifted his weight and folded his arms over his chest, as if debating how to launch into what he’d come to say. “We haven’t talked in a while, Skye.”

      That was true. With the exception of him offering stiff condolences at Mason’s funeral, they hadn’t spoken since they’d faced off in the parking lot behind the Shamrock Bar almost two years ago, shortly after she’d discovered that Mason had been gambling again. She’d asked Tyler to stop encouraging her husband to go out. He’d told her he would. He’d lied.

      Skye got her keys out of her pocket. No longer smiling, she tilted her head. Waited.

      Tyler took the plunge. “Jess told me that you are in need of a loan.”

      She shook her head. “Not any longer.”

      “Ah.” He looked as if he wanted to ask why, but her stony expression must have made him think twice.

      “Thank you for asking.” She hoped that would cause him to move along, and indeed he did take a couple of steps, but toward her rather than toward his truck.

      “You know...” he said, his expression becoming serious. Too serious, really. “...we’ve had our differences, but I was Mason’s friend—”

      “That was the problem, wasn’t it?” The angry reply burst out of nowhere, and Skye instantly clamped her mouth shut to keep from saying more. She needed to get out of there, away from this guy who so easily triggered her. She moved around him to her car, but before she could open the door, he put his hand on it. Her gaze jerked up, and he dropped his hand.

      “Mason was a grown man, Skye. He made his own choices.” His voice was so low and intense that it was little more than a growl.

      And you didn’t help matters. The words teetered on her lips, but she bit them back. She wasn’t getting into this. Not here. Not now. She forced her expression to go blank and uttered a lie. “I’m sorry, Tyler. That was uncalled for.” His gaze narrowed, telling her he wasn’t buying the false apology. “It was a busy shift, and I’m a little tired. I didn’t sleep well.” Total truth, there. “I appreciate your trying to help.”

      “The offer stands.” The way he spoke made her wonder why.

      “I’ll keep it in mind.”

      And she’d file it under Fat Chance. She was not asking for help from the man who was in a large way responsible for the situation she was now in. The very fact that he offered...

      “I need to go, Ty.” Before I tell you what I’m really thinking.

      He studied her, as if debating whether or not to prolong the conversation, and she in return studied him, her gaze unwavering. He was handsome. Dark and lean and dangerous looking. Ty had always kind of intimidated her. He was so different from his easygoing twin, who’d been one of her best buddies growing up. Funny how those things went.

      His mouth tightened a little as they silently regarded one another, the atmosphere growing more charged by the second, and for some reason the movement of his lips caused a tiny ripple in her midsection.

      Yes. Dangerous.

      Skye tore her gaze away and opened the car door. When she closed it, a wave of relief washed over her.

      Safe.

      * * *

      OH YEAH. That had gone well.

      Ty forced his tight jaw muscles to relax as he walked back to his truck while Skye all but laid rubber in her hurry to get away from him. It was obviously easier for her to blame him rather than Mason for the trouble she was in. He understood, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

      Nope. He pretty much hated it. But what could he do? Chase her down and tell her the truth about her husband? He might be angry, but he wasn’t that angry. He needed to let this go, focus on the here and now, on the things he could control, like where he lived.

      Instead of getting into his truck, he reversed course and walked into the café.

      “Hey, Ty.”

      Angie Salinas greeted him with a wide smile. See, Skye... Angie likes me. And Angie probably had more of a reason to dislike


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