For the Love of Sin

Even so, he still wasn’t quite sure how he’d allowed himself to get talked into this. All Troy knew was that he was there to get some answers, and he would do what it took to get them. He’d also been instructed to persuade Senada Calhoun to return to Chattanooga. That, he thought as he stepped into the busy watering hole, could get a little tricky.

Peanut shells littered the scarred wooden floor. Cowboy paraphernalia decorated the walls. His stomach growled at the scent of hamburgers and beer. Past the haze of cigarette smoke and what seemed like a herd of male bodies, he immediately spotted Senada.

Troy watched her give instructions to a waitress, then turn her attention to the customers, moving from one table to another. Her hair swung in a long black silky mantle past her shoulders, her eyes flashed with a hint of the fire in her personality, and her smile, well, her smile could tempt Saint Peter.

She probably thought the black jeans and frilly white shirt she wore covered enough to discourage male attention. Perhaps on another woman they would, but Senada’s black jeans cupped and molded her hips the way a man would want to cup and mold her with his hands. Her blouse had a ribbon that held the white material against her tanned skin.

Troy bet every man in the place was rubbing his fingers together with an itch to tug that ribbon loose. In his own gut, he felt a visceral tension grab and clench.

Shaking his head, he put the first sensation down to temporary insanity and the second…to indigestion. He moved toward her, and by the time he got within talking distance, her back was facing him. He hesitated a second, feeling as if he were preparing to walk straight into a fire.

He shook off the ridiculous thought. “Any chance a guy from Tennessee can get a beer around here?”

Senada whirled around, her dark brown eyes wide with surprise.

There was something different about her, he noticed instantly. Her usual flirty demeanor was missing, and she didn’t quite conceal a flash of vulnerability. Then he could almost swear he saw steam coming out of her ears.

Senada frowned. “Lisa sent you.”

Troy shrugged. No use denying it.

“She shouldn’t have.”

“She was worried.”

“There’s no need. I’m fine. I—”

He grinned. “What am I gonna have to do to get that beer?”

Senada stopped and took a deep breath. She wanted to club him. Lord help her, the last thing she needed was one of the Pendleton brothers planting his size-12 feet into her life. “This way,” she said tersely, and headed for the bar.

“Interesting place you’ve got here,” Troy said.

“I don’t own it. I manage it.” She motioned for the bartender. “Rico, please give this man a beer.”

“On the house?” Troy asked, needling her a little to gauge her reaction, as he leaned against the bar.

Senada paused in the act of pouring herself a glass of water and looked at him sideways. “Consider it one for the road.”

Troy laughed. Maybe this was the change he needed after all. He leaned closer, matching her haughty expression with a steady gaze. “Darlin’, my return flight’s not booked. I’m here for the duration.”

Impatience gnawed at Senada, and she seriously considered throwing the water in his handsome face. It took all her effort, but she stifled the urge. “Then make the duration short. There’s no need for you to stay on my account.”

“There is a need.” He took a long swallow of beer. “I need to know why you left Chattanooga, and—”

She pushed her hand through her hair. “I told you. I needed a change.”

Troy shook his head in disbelief. “Here? You would deliberately choose to leave a thriving upscale catering business for this?”

“My mother is from this area,” Senada said, and took another sip of her water.

“Are you living with her?”

Senada didn’t know why she felt compelled to answer his questions, except she knew that if she didn’t give him some excuse, he would never leave her alone. “No, I’m not living with her.”

“Is she sick?”

“No,” she said quickly, feeling the familiar pinch of loss. “She’s dead.”

Troy paused a half beat. “When?”

“Years ago.” She neither expected nor received sympathy from Troy. She knew the Pendletons had lost their mother and father, yet somehow they had come out stronger because of it. Until lately, she thought she’d become stronger because of her losses too. “Listen, I need to get back to work. There’s no need for you to be—”

He caught her arm. “I need, because I made a promise. I can’t leave here until I’m satisfied that you’re okay.”

The determined look in his violet eyes unnerved her. “It’s really none of your business.”

“It is now.”

Senada took a calming breath. No need to get upset, she told herself. She could handle Troy. She’d always sensed she made him a little uncomfortable, a little off balance. She preferred it that way. Instead of pulling away, she stepped closer and smiled. “Why Troy, I would have never dreamed you cared. You’re an intelligent man. Now take a good look,” she dared him. “Can you honestly say I look like I’m suffering?”

She withstood his narrowed gaze and felt a measure of surprise that he focused on her face instead of her breasts.

He lightly traced beneath her eyes with his callused thumb. “Dark circles?”

Another dart of surprise raced through her. He was more perceptive than she’d thought, and she would be looking for a new concealer tomorrow. “A good time and late night will catch up with the best of us,” she lied with a shrug, and slipped away. “You should know that. Now you’ve done your brotherly duty. Give Lisa my best and tell her I’m fine.”

Senada turned her back to him and wished with all her heart that she wasn’t lying. Because she wasn’t fine.

Troy watched her deliberately avoid him for the rest of the evening.

“Muy attractiva, sí?” a man next to him said.

Unfortunately, the only Spanish Troy knew was what he’d learned from Speedy Gonzales cartoons and Terminator movies. “Pardon?”

The man snickered. “One hot woman, that Senada. Yes?”

“Yeah,” he said, sizing up the man. “You know her well?”

“Not well enough.” He gave Troy a meaningful glance. “She is a beautiful tease. All the men try, but she goes home alone. My name is Juan Marcheta. You are new?”

“Visiting from Tennessee. I’m Troy Pendleton.”

“You do not sound like the Texans.”

Troy chuckled. He supposed he sounded pretty foreign to this guy. “I guess not. You know anywhere I can get a room for the night?”

Juan recommended a few places, then left Troy to ponder the puzzle of Senada. Although he would be the first to admit he had the sensitivity of a block of wood, he suspected something strange was going on. Aside from Senada’s abrupt departure from Chattanooga, she usually had a half-dozen men dangling on her line. The fact that she wasn’t seeing anyone gave him pause.