Taming The Texan - Jules Bennett

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      “Sure you were,” she countered. “You keep looking at my mouth and wondering what it would be like to kiss me, so don’t pretend you didn’t want to know if I’m taken.”

      There went the old Alexa again. Scott had always told her she was bold. She’d always said what was on her mind, because...why play games? But since his death, she’d been quieter, more reserved.

      Apparently the moody cowboy brought out the best in her.

      “You’re an attractive woman,” he replied. It shocked her that he was just as blunt. “I’m a guy. But don’t worry, sweetheart. Your lips are safe from mine.”

      Cocky cabron. Like she’d asked for a kiss?

      Alexa spun away and jogged through the rain to the safety of the back porch. The old swing swayed in the wind as another rumble of thunder rolled through. She crossed the porch and took a seat. Pulling her hair over her shoulder, she squeezed out the excess water.

      Glancing back to the barn, Alexa saw Hayes standing in the opening, hands on his hips, black hair plastered to his head from the rain. He stared across the yard at her as if trying to decipher his next move.

      Well, he could think all he wanted, but she was staying right here until it was time to roll out...or whatever lingo ranchers used. Wagons ho?

      As if she didn’t have a care in the world, Alexa used the toe of her boot to push off the concrete. Even though she was completely soaked through, she sat on Hayes’s porch swaying back and forth as if this were a sunny summer day and she was sipping a cold glass of Southern sweet tea. As if this were her own home... If she really stretched her imagination, she could picture Mason toddling around in the grass, splashing in the puddles.

      Wait. She needn’t get swept away in her own dreams. Fantasizing about a sexy cowboy was one thing, but imagining herself here with her son was flat-out dangerous.

      Just because she’d been saving for a home of her own with a yard for Mason didn’t mean she should picture him here. This was Elliott property. This was Hayes’s property. To be here with Mason would mean an emotional investment she wasn’t ready to make.

      Hayes started across the yard, favoring his left side, walking as casually as you please, as if he weren’t getting pelted by rain. Oh, that control he managed to cling to was so maddening, even more so because she didn’t seem to have any of her own at the moment.

      The entire time he closed the distance between them, he had those dark eyes fixed on her.

      Alexa swallowed and attempted to give herself a mental pep talk on not getting tangled up with this frustrating, captivating cowboy. But the closer he got, the more her nerves danced around in her belly.

      She had a feeling her interesting day had just gotten started.

       Three

      Being drenched did absolutely nothing to get his mind back on track. Granted, his life in general hadn’t been in the right place since he’d signed up for the Army at eighteen.

      How the hell had this simple trail ride turned into Miss Alexa, of the swinging hips and sultry midnight eyes, nestled on his porch swing? Since when did he ever let anyone else take control of his life?

      Oh, yeah. Ever since his former fiancée betrayed him with their commanding officer while he was fighting for his country, seeing things no man or woman should ever have to see. Clearly, he hadn’t had control over that situation.

      Hayes stepped up onto the porch and leaned against the post. “You might as well come inside,” he told her. “This doesn’t look like it will pass anytime soon, after all.”

      She braced her feet to stop the swaying swing. “I’m soaking wet. I don’t need to go in. I’m quite happy swinging and watching the storm. With those dark clouds, I bet it will be a doozy.”

      Hayes sighed. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re drenched and I can at least offer dry clothes and put yours in the dryer.”

      “Oh, don’t be so cliché,” she told him as she came to her feet. “Wearing your clothes during a storm? Next, you’ll find some way that we need to share body heat by wearing nothing.”

      Hayes had actually thought of that, but he wasn’t about to mention it now. She clearly had a low opinion of his intentions.

      He forced himself not to stare at the way her jeans and her tank molded to every single dip and flare of her curves. A gorgeous woman with a killer body...it was like fate was seriously testing him. He wasn’t in the mood to be tempted and he sure as hell wasn’t in the mood for games.

      “I’m going inside to change, you can come or you can stay out here and be wet. I don’t give a damn.” He crossed to the screen door and jerked on the handle. “And offering you clothes in a storm isn’t cliché. It’s called manners.”

      He stepped inside and eased the squeaking screen door shut without slamming it. The old linoleum in the entry hadn’t been replaced in decades, so he wasn’t too concerned about dripping in here.

      Hayes headed toward the utility room off the kitchen. There was laundry in there he needed to put away, so he knew he’d find something for himself and he could throw his things in the dryer.

      The loud bang behind him had Hayes crouched down in an instant, his hands coming up to shield his head. But within two seconds he realized he was home, not in battle, and the slam came from the back door.

      Slowly rising to his feet, he glanced over his shoulder to find Alexa staring down at him, her eyes wide with worry.

      Damn it. He didn’t want pity or empathy. Hell, he didn’t want company, but that wasn’t an option right now. Couldn’t he ever fight these demons alone without witnesses? His brothers knew to keep their distance, and he’d come out of his house when he was having a good day...which happened to be earlier today, but now he was ready for privacy.

      His heart still beat rapidly in his chest, he continued to stare at Alexa, silently daring her to apologize.

      “I—I didn’t know that would trigger something,” she murmured. “What can I do?”

      Clenching his fists at his sides, he willed his mind to chill out and stay focused on the fact that he was safe here on Pebblebrook.

      Well, as safe as he could be with a soaking wet woman standing in his kitchen. She’d asked what she could do. That in and of itself was rather amazing.

      He was so tired of everyone asking if he was okay. Hell no, he wasn’t okay. Jumping at a door was not normal. Flipping out at the roll of thunder was damn embarrassing. He never knew what would set him off until it happened, so there was no way to prepare.

      Well, except the screen door. He’d let it go once and it had slammed at his back and he’d flattened himself on the floor for several minutes before he came back to reality. He’d only made that mistake once, but he hadn’t thought it would be an issue again because it wasn’t like he had regular visitors.

      “You want a change of clothes or not?” Hayes asked, ignoring her question.

      He tugged at the hem of his soaked shirt and peeled it up and over his head. Clutching the wet material in his hand, he turned his attention back to Alexa.

      Her eyes were fixed on his chest, no doubt zeroing in on the scars. Definitely not a story he wanted to get in to, but he wasn’t ashamed of fighting for his country. He was only ashamed he’d been fool enough not to see the betrayal going on behind his back. But even that pain paled in comparison to the horrific scene in that tiny village where he’d been able to save the women and children, but not his brothers-in-arms.

      “If you have a spare shirt, that would be great,” she finally told him.

      “What about your jeans?” He knew his were irritating him already.

      “I

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