Texas Grit

“Back off, little man,” Nash demanded, his rough hand clamping around Carrie’s arm.

She jerked it free and brought up the pepper spray. Nash caught her arm in time to stop her from aiming at his eyes.

“Carrie, is that you?” A dark rumble of a voice boomed from the end of the alley, and all three of them froze. She recognized who it belonged to immediately. Dade Butler’s voice made her heart thump a little faster, and for very different reasons than being scared. The inappropriateness of her reaction to him caught her off guard, especially after all this time.

“Dade,” she said, her voice sounding as desperate as she felt.

“Everything okay here?” Dade had to be at least six foot four, with a body built for athletics. Ripples of solid muscles were apparent underneath his white T-shirt and low-slung jeans. He seemed to size up the scene accurately, based on the deep wrinkle on his forehead and the fact that he was frowning.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” Nash threw his hands up in surrender. “I was just leaving.”

Samuel stepped between Carrie and Dade as though sizing up a new threat.

“It’s definitely better now that you’re here,” she said to Dade to calm some of Samuel’s tension. The message? Dade was a friend. Samuel just got the muscle he needed to avoid getting his face bashed in. He should be grateful instead of tense.

Nash seemed to take the hint, backing away before heading toward the cinema with a few choice words mumbled just loud enough to hear.

“How long has it been since the last time I saw you?” Dade asked Carrie, his eyes intent on Nash.

She stepped away from Samuel and toward the sound of Dade’s voice as a sensual shiver rocketed through her.

“Too long.” She hadn’t seen him since the news of his father broke and hadn’t talked to him in years. She could never forget that voice, and even though dark circles cradled his still-too-serious crystal-blue eyes, he looked damn good. She turned to Samuel, whose body language was even tenser now. “Thank you so much for stepping in when you did. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t shown up. I’m good from here, though, so you don’t have to stick around.”

The quiet neighbor didn’t respond as he eyed Dade up and down. A glint of metal in his hand reflected in the light as he turned to face her. For the first time, she noticed that Samuel was hiding a knife. She appreciated that he was trying to help her and, sadly, they might’ve needed the weapon to fight off Nash. Between Samuel’s knife and her pepper spray, they might’ve had a prayer. But the festival worker seemed to know better than to try to take on Dade.

“Everything all right?” Dade’s brow arched as he seemed to process Samuel’s resistance to leave.

Samuel still seemed to be looking at everyone as a potential threat.

“It’s okay. I’m fine now. Dade’s a friend of mine,” Carrie said to Samuel. These were probably the most words she and Samuel had exchanged, and she was grateful he’d appeared when he did. It was probably adrenaline that had him still tense and ready to defend. He was somewhat awkward, and she figured he’d most likely dealt with his fair share of bullies in his lifetime, being on the scrawny side. The thought made her feel sorry for him. She knew what it was like to be pushed around and unable to defend herself. An angry riptide pulled at her thinking about it, about a past that had left her helpless. She dismissed thoughts that brought her back to that place where she was an innocent girl, fighting off someone who was supposed to be protecting her.

She shook off the reverie, focusing on Samuel. He nodded and seemed like he wanted to say something, but whatever it was died on his tongue. He settled on, “Good night, Carrie.”

He seemed so sad, and she wanted to do something to thank him. From the way he carried himself, she doubted he’d stood up for himself or anyone else for most of his life and it had taken a lot of courage for him to do what he’d done. “Stop by the shop tomorrow for an ice cream on the house, okay?”

“Thanks.” He smiled and she noticed his lip twitching—a nervous tic? Poor guy. He really was distressed, and she was even more grateful he’d tried to help. She’d send him home with a gallon of her signature ice cream blend for his aunt, too.

“’Bye, Samuel.” She stepped into a friendly hug with Dade, ignoring the shivers racing through her body with contact.

“What was up with him?” Dade pulled Carrie against his chest, and she felt how truly muscled he was. His sandy-blond hair and serious blue eyes made for one seriously hot package. And those were all things former friends weren’t supposed to think about each other. Notice, maybe, but not have a visceral reaction to.

“I really appreciate what you did after all these...” She diverted her gaze. In his arms, it was a little too easy to forget the awkwardness she’d felt toward him since high school. She pulled back, because thinking clearly while being barraged with his clean and spicy male scent made her pulse erratic.

Carrie was tall—not Dade tall, but tall—with midnight-black hair and tight curls that had minds of their own on humid days. She’d tamed them today with a straightening iron and had no idea why she was thinking about what her hair looked like after what had just happened. Stress caused her thoughts to bounce around, she reasoned.

“Are you shaking?” Dade asked.

“I guess so. That whole situation was stressful, but I’m fine now,” she said a little too quickly. She wasn’t okay. Recent events with Brett had her off-balance, and Nash had really done a number on her insides. “Nash has been hanging around the shop and tonight he had alcohol on his breath.”

Dade’s hand found hers, like they were still kids and running across the playground—which was as much as the action probably meant to him. It caused her heart to beat wildly against her chest. She chalked her out-of-control reaction up to the stressful encounter with Nash; his eyes had told her everything she needed to know about his intentions.

“What was going down a few minutes ago?” With Dade next to her, she should be able to relax, and she could in some ways, because he’d just saved her from what could’ve turned out to be a very bad situation. One that brought a few harsh memories threatening to crash down around her and reduce her to tears.

She couldn’t help but shudder when she thought about how close she’d been to history repeating itself. Well, now she was twenty-seven, not fourteen.

Dodging those heavy thoughts, she looked at Dade instead.

“That festival worker cornered me, and it got awkward. He’s been asking me out all week, but I refused, so I guess he decided to take matters into his own hands before he left town.” Hearing the words brought on another wave of anger.

A grunt tore from Dade’s throat, but he didn’t immediately speak, even though his jaw muscle ticked. “Tell me everything that happened.”

“He surprised me in the parking lot when I was closing up the shop. Things got a little weird and, luckily, one of my neighbors happened to be near. Samuel must’ve heard my voice or something, because he showed up just in time to distract Nash. I’m so glad the festival’s over so I won’t have to deal with that guy again. He’ll be long gone by morning.”

A dark look crossed Dade’s features and for a split second she thought she’d imagined it. “If I’d known, I would’ve been less friendly.”

That was him being friendly? She’d hate to see someone on his bad side. “I’m just relieved it’s over.”

His eyes darkened anyway, and that jaw muscle bulged again. “Only because I showed up. What if I hadn’t?”

She almost pointed out that Samuel had, too, but she knew he couldn’t have held Nash off for long.

“It’s my fault. I should’ve parked out front. Out of habit, I parked in back. I don’t usually close up the store after dark.” Thinking just how close the call had been caused her to shudder again.

“Don’t blame yourself for being harassed by a jerk.” Dade’s free hand fisted. Tension radiated from him in waves. “Did he physically threaten you?”

“He had me trapped against the wall before Samuel arrived.” The whole experience had tipped her off-balance, and she wasn’t thinking straight. She should be angry, not scared. Too many memories haunted her, bringing her back to that defenseless fourteen-year-old girl she’d been when her foster father had abused her. Well, she was a woman now and could stand up for herself, and she sure as hell didn’t need to make excuses for Nash or blame herself.

“I think it’s best if I take you to the sheriff’s office to give a statement,” he said with calmness to his tone and something else... Possessiveness?

She really was imagining things now.

Shock was wearing off, and the adrenaline rush was making her hands shake. “I appreciate the offer.”

“I don’t trust Nash.” Dade’s jaw clenched as he scanned the area.

He was right. She glanced around. Nash could be anywhere, hiding, biding his time in order to make another move.

* * *

DADE RAKED HIS hand through his hair. He’d seen the look in the festival worker’s eyes, and he hadn’t liked it. Thankfully, Carrie’s neighbor had been there to serve as a distraction until Dade could get things under control. The neighbor registered as a little odd, but Dade was grateful Samuel had been there to slow Nash down. Dade and Carrie went way back, and the thought of anything happening to her sat like a hot poker in his gut.

Seeing her shell-shocked and pale was like a physical punch, and his past shame roared to the surface. He hadn’t helped her in high school like he should’ve, but there was nothing stopping him now. Besides, she wasn’t thinking straight or she would’ve already come up with the idea of filing a complaint. Another reason leaving her alone wasn’t a good idea.

“My truck is parked this way.” He motioned toward the end of the alley.

She glanced at her sedan and then at him. “I don’t know, Dade. I’m tired. Part of me thinks I should just go home and try to forget this night ever happened.”

“This guy could harass a woman in the next town he’s in. We don’t know anything about his background or if the festival vetted him out before he was hired. He could have a record and he might escalate if we don’t nip this in the bud.”