Lawless

She fastened her seat belt while he got in and fastened his own, his eyes smiling as he approved the action.

“I have to tell most people to put their belts on,” he pointed out.

“Not me,” she said. “Judd taught me early that I would not ride with him if I didn’t wear it.”

“You’ve known him for a long time.”

“Most of my life,” she agreed. She sighed. “He’s taken care of me for five years. It isn’t that he’s possessive,” she said defensively. “He just wants to make sure that I’m safe.”

He gave her a rakish grin. “You’re as safe as you want to be,” he said.

She chuckled. “Now that’s encouragement, if I ever heard it!”

4

Shea’s Roadhouse and Bar was about a mile out of Jacobsville on the road that went to Victoria. It was big and rowdy on the weekends, and despite the fact that beer and wine were served at the bar, it wasn’t the den of iniquity that Judd called it. There were two bouncers usually. One had broken an arm in a fall, so that just left Tiny to keep things orderly. It wasn’t hard. Tiny was the opposite of his name, a huge, hulking man with a sweet nature and a caring personality. But he could be insistent when people got out of hand, and nobody lasted long in an altercation with him.

She said as much to Cash when they were seated at one of the small wooden tables waiting to be served.

“Altercation,” he repeated with a slow smile. “You sound like a cop.”

“Blame Judd,” she said on a sigh. “It really does rub off when you hang out with law enforcement types.”

He chuckled, toying with his napkin. “Are you sure he didn’t mind that you came out with me?”

She pursed her lips. “I think he did, a little. He’s very conventional.”

His eyebrows arched. “Are we talking about the same Judd Dunn?” he asked pleasantly. “The one who handcuffed a prostitute to the former mayor of Jacobsville when he caught them together in a brothel, and had someone tip off the newspaper?”

She cleared her throat. “He was a policeman here at the time...”

“...and chased a speeder all the way to Houston to give him a ticket?”

She moved one hand uneasily.

“...and then padlocked the local pool parlor until the owner promised to stop serving beer to minors?”

She sighed. “Yes. I suppose he used to be more unconventional than he is now. He feels that he shouldn’t embarrass the Texas Rangers. The exact figure changes from time to time, but this year, there are only 103 of them in the world.”

He gave her an amused glance. “I know. I used to be one.”

Her dark eyes widened. “You did?”

He nodded. “In fact, I worked with Judd for a while. I taught him those martial arts moves he uses so eloquently these days.”

“You know martial arts?” She was hanging on every word.

He chuckled. “There’s a movie cowboy up the road near Fort Worth who also runs a martial arts studio. He taught me.”

She named the actor.

He nodded.

“Wow!” she exclaimed, obviously impressed.

“Now don’t look like that,” he muttered. “You’ll embarrass me.”

She cocked her head, recalling something she’d heard about him earlier. “You’re one to talk about Judd being unconventional,” she added with a wicked grin. “We heard that you used the movie camera in your police car to film a couple in the back seat of a parked car up in San Antonio...?”

He chuckled. “Not the police camera—my own. And it was two local police officers I knew that I captured on tape. I made them promise to behave with more decorum before I gave them the only copy of the tape.”

“You make a bad enemy,” she pointed out.

He nodded, and he didn’t smile.

Around them, the band was just tuning up. It consisted of two men playing guitars, one with a fiddle and one with a keyboard. They broke into “San Antonio Rose,” and couples began to move onto the big dance floor.

“They’re pretty good,” she said.

“They’re missing their bass player,” he noted.

“I wonder why?”

“Oh, he’s in jail,” he said, smiling as the waitress approached.

“Why?” she asked.

“Some other guy was dating his girl. He chased them to her house in his car and made a scene. She called us.” He shrugged. “Fortunes of war. Some women are harder to keep than others, I guess.”

“Poor guy.”

“He’ll be out Monday, wiser and more prudent.”

“Hi! What can I get you?” the waitress, an older woman, asked.

“Pizza and beer,” Grier told her.

“Pizza and coffee,” Crissy said when it was her turn.

“No beer?” she asked.

“I’m not twenty-one yet,” Crissy replied easily. “And my...guardian,” she chose her words carefully, “is a Texas Ranger.”

“You’re Crissy,” the girl said immediately, chuckling. “I had a crush on Judd when we were younger, but he was going with that Taft girl from Victoria. They broke up over his job, didn’t they?”

Crissy nodded. “Some women can’t live with the danger.”

“Doesn’t seem to bother you,” the waitress said, tongue-in-cheek, as she glanced pointedly at Grier before she went away to fill the order.