Lone Star Bachelor. Linda Goodnight
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her.
Something beneath the surface of the cool, serious PI intrigued him. She was much more than she’d let him see.
Yeah, and he must be sniffing too much sawdust.
Whatever. He’d take Mom’s sage advice and live his faith instead of preaching it.
With that in mind, he shifted easily to her other interesting statement. “How long were you a cop?”
She sipped her tea, and for a second Sawyer thought she would tell him to mind his own business. Again.
She set the glass down and rubbed damp fingers on her napkin. In this heat, the tea glass condensed faster than Campbell’s soup.
“Four years in Paris. Texas, not France.”
Was that the hint of a real smile he spotted dancing around her pretty mouth? Being a naturally happy guy, he couldn’t help offering a smile in response.
Apparently, discussing her job was preferable to talking about God.
“You’ve probably had to say that a million times.”
“At least. Mostly on the phone. People here in Texoma land know the real Paris is in Texas.”
A joke. They were making progress. Pepped him right up. “Did you like being a cop?”
“Loved it. Most of the time.”
“Then why switch careers?”
“Oh, you know.” She shrugged, contemplating a biscuit and a pat of real butter. “Did you always want to be a carpenter?”
Changing topics. Nice diversion. Or was that a cop tactic to dig for info?
“No. When I was six I wanted to be Batman. Still do, but they tell me the job is taken.”
A spark lit her eyes. “Your degree is in business.”
He slapped a hand against his chest, pretending shock. “Are you saying Batman didn’t have a business plan?”
This time she actually smiled. And the result knocked his socks off. He was tempted to look under the table to see if they were still there. Except he was wearing work boots.
“Seriously. Why a business degree if you planned to build things?”
“Dad was a stickler. All of us kids had to at least try college—preferably his alma mater, Tech. I liked college life and stuck around to get a degree.” Mostly because of the good times, but he didn’t tell her that part. “Even if I pound nails for the family company, I’m still a businessman. What about you? Did you attend college?”
He held his breath waiting for the cold shoulder.
“Community college classes in criminal justice and then police academy and some investigation courses. I always knew what I wanted to do.”
“How does one know such a thing? Especially you, being a woman.” He held up both hands. “No insult intended, but you’ve probably taken some flack as a female in a male-dominated field.”
She stiffened up. “I can handle myself.”
“No doubt.” One blast of that arctic stare and a lesser man would freeze in his tracks. “But it couldn’t be easy.”
“I had some run-ins. Guys who didn’t want to ride with me. Who thought I couldn’t hold my own and would get them killed. Suggestive cartoons in my locker. The basic hazing stuff.”
A bite of green beans froze halfway to Sawyer’s mouth. “Say that again.”
She shrugged. “Harassment made me tougher. I wasn’t about to wimp out after that.”
“Still.” He didn’t like the idea of some creep shooting innuendoes in her direction. He and the brothers would bust some chops if anyone did that to their sisters. Which brought to mind her family.
“Didn’t your brothers want to knock some heads?”
Her gaze was cool. “I didn’t tell them. Why would I?”
A revealing confession. She faced the world on her own. “Because men stand up for their women.”
“Let’s get this straight, Mr. Buchanon. I don’t need or want a man to take care of me.” She tossed a wadded napkin onto the table. “Not now. Not ever.”
Ouch. Raw nerve. Somebody had done a number on her. Somebody who needed a knot jerked in his neck.
Sawyer was normally a lover, not a fighter, but he wouldn’t mind meeting up with the culprit. Preferably alone.
The next evening Jade pushed back from the small wobbly, laminated motel desk and read over the notes she’d typed into a computer document.
She’d spent the day interviewing the rest of the Buchanon family, including Dawson, who reminded her constantly of his twin. They were both too good looking for words, but so very different in personality. To her consternation, it was the playboy twin she couldn’t stop thinking about.
A psychological default, she suspected, and one which she would fight with all her might. She refused to be a stereotype, falling for the same kind of man over and over again.
Dawson had been her focus today. Sawyer could wait, though she would have to talk to him again soon, regardless of her misgivings. Dan Buchanon wanted her focus on Sawyer, and the big boss was the man paying the bill.
With seven Buchanon siblings and the two parents, she’d asked the standard questions and written a lot of notes, but nothing raised a red flag. Whoever was vandalizing the Buchanon properties covered their tracks well. At this point, she needed a clue. Any clue. Sawyer had been little help.
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