Texas Hold 'Em (Smokin' ACES) - By Kay David Page 0,6

and faded. The white felt hat, silver badge, pressed shirt, and polished boots were all gone. A quintessential bad boy had replaced the quintessential lawman.

He didn’t answer.

“Santos? Did you hear me? I asked you what the hell—”

“I heard you, damnit.” He thrust his hands behind his back and tucked the gun away. “Why don’t you tell me what that was about instead?” He tilted his head toward the direction of the men’s escape.

He’d always been a master at deflecting attention, manipulating the situation, doing whatever it took to turn things his way. She’d fallen for his maneuvering more often that she wanted to admit; she wasn’t going to repeat that particular mistake. She put her hands on her hips. “Last time. Why are you here? You can’t just show up out of the blue like this and not explain yourself.”

“I have business in Rio County,” he said brusquely.

“Business? What kind of bullshit is that—”

He cut her off. “Answering my question seems like the least you can do since I saved your ass. Tell me what that was all about first.”

He wasn’t going to give up. “I’m not sure,” she finally conceded. “I think he wanted to spring one of the idiots we have locked up.” She stared into the darkness then looked up at Santos again. “I think maybe one of the local drug guys named Juan Enrique must have put him up to it.”

“If you had let me fire, we might have found out for certain. I could have hit a tire and stopped them.”

Had his eyes been this empty before? His hollow stare unnerved her, almost as much as his sudden appearance.

“And you could have hit a person, too, so unless you explain what you’re doing in my county, I need to get back to the station and get on the radio. Everyone needs to know about these guys. If you don’t want to come with me, then I suggest you take a bath, get a haircut, and leave town. You might scare some of my citizens if you hang around looking like that.”

A deep voice splintered the quiet as someone called out her name in the darkness. Rose looked over her shoulder to see Kingson Landry running in her direction, his hand on his holster, determination in his stride.

“That’s my deputy—”

Santos’s fingers latched onto her arm. His grip felt as desperate as the boy’s had been. “I wasn’t here, Rose.”

“What…?”

“You didn’t see me, okay? This is important. Tell me you understand.”

Her forehead wrinkled. “What on earth is your problem? King’s going to want to know why I’m talking to some stranger out here in the dark, especially looking like you do.” Glancing over her shoulder, she saw the deputy drawing near. She turned back to Santos. “I have to tell him something—”

The night swallowed her words. Santos had already vanished.

…

Rose Renwick hadn’t changed one bit.

The dress she’d worn had clung to a body that could still stop his heart, her curves lush and her lips tempting. Her eyes still held the same distrust of him, too.

But it hardly mattered. Once she found out the truth—and she would find out—the miniscule amount of trust left between them in the wake of their breakup would disintegrate for good. She’d never want to have anything to do with him again, and he couldn’t blame her.

Prior to bringing the crew to Aqua Frio, he had done his due diligence, or so he called it. Parking down the street from where Rose lived, he had watched her place for several weeks, on and off, hoping to see something—or someone—that might end his search without it even beginning. After she entered the tiny house, her silhouette would fill each window in the same order and then she would close the drape, turning on lamps as she went from room to room. Twice she’d had people over, and low laughter had crossed the street to where he’d hidden. Once she’d gone out with someone, and they’d kissed on her front porch in the shadow of a honey mesquite.

The envy he’d felt for that man at that moment had almost sent him spinning out of control. All he’d been able to think about was how desperately he wanted to feel the softness of her lips once again, touch the curves beneath her clothes, pull her to him, and never let go.

Instead the desert’s darkness had seeped into his bones, nothing more than old memories keeping him company. He’d drunk himself into a stupor that night