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Gunslinger. Angi MorganЧитать онлайн книгу.

Gunslinger - Angi Morgan


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good hostess would open the screen farther and invite him into the kitchen. The hot July air was thick and getting hotter. A bead of sweat rolled across her skin and wedged between her breasts, squeezed together by her sports bra.

      Her voice and body might appear to be calm, but she was hyperaware of every second of panic she stopped from bubbling to the surface. Knees about to buckle, she wanted to run inside and leave the handsome Texas Ranger locked out on her stoop.

      Bryce took off his hat, getting closer to the screen. He raised his hand toward the handle, but changed his mind at the last minute.

      “I’m not sure what I can say. It was never my intention to use scare tactics to get you to listen to me. I wanted you to trust me before I had to tell you.”

      “That was never going to happen. I can’t—won’t—trust anyone like that again. You’re wasting your time. Not to mention the taxpayers’ dollars.” She let the screen shut but didn’t make a move to close the inner door. Why was she was putting off the inevitable?

      Maybe she didn’t want to leave. Or shoot, it really was because his concerned look crinkled the corner of his eyes. And he looked different without his glasses. Maybe that wasn’t concern and he just couldn’t focus.

      Whatever the reason, he’d taken his hat off and his hair had a cute little flip where his hat had rested. He was seriously adorable-looking—whether guys liked to be thought of that way or not. And yes, she didn’t want to shut the door in his face.

      “The gentlemanly thing for you to do is leave now.” She edged the door closed a little more.

      “You’re right. Leaving would be polite. But right now, I’m a Texas Ranger...not a gentleman.”

      The screen popped open and her reflexes moved her backward into the kitchen. He was through the door quickly, shutting it and turning the dead bolt. Once that was done he turned to her, hat in hand, bare-chested and terribly sunburned.

      “You’ll forgive me, Kylie. I’ve got my orders and I need to make sure you’re clear on a few facts.” He gestured to the small table in the corner. She joined him. “You see, someone—we assume Tenoreno—is actively looking for you. His father is in jail awaiting trial for murdering his mother.”

      “I heard. Don’t you think I keep up with them?”

      “What you might not know is that we think Xander doesn’t want his father cleared. He’s taking over the family business. He also knows that we’re building a case against him. You can help strengthen the state’s case.” He leaned forward on his knees, slowly spinning that silly straw hat brim through his fingers.

      “No. No. No. A thousand times no. I don’t have any evidence to help you. Don’t you think I tried that before the divorce? If I could have blackmailed him for my freedom, I would have.”

      “The rumors aren’t true, then.” He totally looked the part of a workingman. Somebody who fixed things for a living. He’s not, she reminded herself, staying angry. He deceived her and all the residents of Hico.

      “Does Mrs. Mackey know you’re a cop?” She placed both her feet flat on the ground and sat straight in her chair. She knew all about body language and she was being as inhospitable as possible.

      “Not a cop.”

      “Is there a difference?”

      “Technicalities mostly. Honor. A code that’s hard to understand.” He set the hat on one knee and leaned back against the vinyl chair.

      She understood all too well why he winced. It was the reason she wore a special UV-protected shirt with long sleeves. “I have some aloe that will help that burn.”

      “I’ll be okay. If you wouldn’t mind answering a few questions about the Tenorenos—” He pulled free of the chair, gritting his teeth so hard the muscles jumped in his jaw.

      “I’ll be right back.”

      Summing up her options had become second nature. She hadn’t been spontaneous in five lonely years. It had taken over an hour to decide to ask Bryce to retrieve her pole saw.

      Should she grab the handgun she’d hidden in the bathroom in case of a bad situation like this?

      It should have already been decided. She’d weighed all the variables when she’d bought the gun and learned how to use it. If Bryce hadn’t been in the house, she’d be talking to herself, debating. But he was in the house and he’d most likely leave if she just asked.

      That was the rub. She hadn’t asked.

      Why? She was ready to move past living this way and had made the decision after she’d met him last week. That’s why. He was already part of an idea that would rescue her from her routine.

      She looked at herself in the bathroom mirror. The gun was in a hidden compartment behind a picture. It had taken her weeks to build it herself. The result was amateurish, but it was covered by a frame and no one knew about it.

      Pulling the aloe from the cupboard, she longed to be brave or a little fearless. It had been quite a while since she’d felt like life was to be lived with reckless abandon.

      “Get lost?” Bryce’s deep voice penetrated her body like a shock. He stood at the edge of the kitchen. He hadn’t followed.

      Her breath caught in her throat like an air bubble or hiccup. Maybe it was more like trying not to cry. Whatever it was, she was uncertain and confused. There was no reason to automatically trust this man.

      No reason to help him with answers about the Tenorenos or his sunburn.

      Bottle of lotion in hand, she turned to his smiling pink face confident that she’d thought out her plan a thousand times and it was the right thing to do. She shoved the lotion into his chest. He caught it with one hand while the other held on to his hat.

      “As much as I want to celebrate five years of freedom, I know that I’ll never be free from the Tenoreno family. I had hopes but nothing will change that. So I’d like you to leave, Bryce. Just go away.”

      * * *

      BRYCE HAD BEEN asked to leave. As a Texas Ranger, he should. As a man who had delivered news that clearly upset this woman...he couldn’t.

      “You have no reason to trust me, Kylie.” He watched her chest rise, inhaling air to state her defense and pushed on before she could. “I do see why trusting anyone would be almost impossible. You asked me what the difference was between a cop and a Texas Ranger. We don’t have an agenda.”

      “I’d still like you to leave and I think you have to now.”

      “I’m not leaving until I explain.”

      “I wish you wouldn’t.” She flattened against the wall.

      Was she afraid? She should be. Her ex-husband was turning out to be as bad and deceptive as his father. “Xander Tenoreno lost the police detail this morning. There’s a chance he could be headed here.”

      He wondered how Kylie had ever managed to fool anyone about her fake history. With every mention of her ex’s name she paled and practically became a different person. Her entire demeanor changed. Now was no different, her eyes darted to the bath, her hand rubbed her side—probably one of the bullet-wound scars.

      “You told Xander so you could get me to do your bidding. You’re all the same. Out only for your own selfish interests—”

      “Kylie!” He raised his voice and reached for her wrist.

      A couple of seconds later, the bottle of lotion she’d given him went flying against the wall and he was lying on his back wondering how he’d been outmaneuvered.

      “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I’ve done that in practice, but never... I didn’t mean to—oh, no.” Kylie knelt next to him alternating between a pat on his shoulder and his head.

      “You’ve


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