Lone Star Bachelor

Since their earlier meeting he’d shaved, a shame from a purely aesthetic perspective, but his smooth profile remained square-jawed perfection. A man ought not to look that good.

She swallowed and watched the passing town instead of Sawyer Buchanon, though her thoughts remained on him. Purely for professional reasons. He was her job.

“It’s a new home. Why don’t they live there?” she asked.

“Brady already had his own place out in the country when he and Abby realized they couldn’t live without each other. They’ll live in his house when they get back from Italy.” He flipped on the signal light and slowed to turn. “You should see that place. It’s spectacular. All kinds of golden wood and native rock. The house is huge, but then, so’s my brother.”

“I’ve heard that. He played football at Tech. Linebacker.” She wasn’t that much of a football fan but no one lived in Texas without being aware of the game.

Sawyer’s gaze swung toward her, flashing lightning. He spoke easily but with a bite. “I’ve no doubt you know where all of us went to college, with info right down to our GPAs.”

As a matter of fact, she did. She did not, however, think he would appreciate that information and since she wanted him to talk, she skipped right on past the comment.

“The police ruled out one suspect, Jake Hamilton. He’s now your brother-in-law.”

“Yeah. Pointing fingers at Jake was a mistake. He’s all right. He treats my sister like a princess, and that’s good enough for me.”

“Then why did you suspect him as the vandal?”

He glanced over, eyebrow jacked. “Don’t you already know this information?”

She flipped a page in her notebook. “I want to hear the story from your perspective.”

With a button push, he silenced the radio. “Okay, then. In a nutshell. A hunting accident. Jake and Quinn were stupid kids, Quinn in college making a big splash as a pro-bound quarterback.”

She knew all that, too, but let him talk. Everybody in Texas and most of America knew about the superstar football player. He’d been in the news, ESPN, Sports Illustrated and attended charity benefits constantly until the accident.

“He was up for the Heisman Trophy his freshman year.”

“Sophomore, too. Quinn was the man with the golden arm and the big future until he and Jake decided beer and guns were a good mix. Mistaking him for a deer, Jake accidently shot Quinn.”

Jade watched his profile, saw the tightening of his mouth and the way his Adam’s apple bobbed. He still ached for his brother.

“Destroying his golden arm.”

“Right. Quinn’s had years of surgeries, rehab, physical therapy. He’ll never be the same, but he’s doing okay.”

“I can see where that would generate some animosity, but why blame Jake for the vandalism?”

“My brothers weren’t exactly excited when Jake and Allison reconnected and fell in love. I think maybe Quinn and Brady were looking for a reason to blame Jake.”

“Payback?”

“I suppose, but payback’s not usually the Buchanon way.” He lifted a finger and motioned toward a housing complex. “There’s the Huckleberry Addition up ahead.”

“Most of the vandalism has occurred here?”

“All except the time at Abby’s house.”

“Hmm.” She scribbled in her book. “Her place was an anomaly, which may indicate a personal connection in that instance.”

“Yes. Maybe. But if that’s true, why are all the other crimes here in the Huckleberry Addition? We have other projects going on all the time. And why isn’t Brady the focus of your investigation, considering the property was his makeover and the owner was his fiancée?” He pulled alongside a curb and stopped the truck.

“Fair question. My focus is on all areas, not you only.” Definitely not. Not with the way her blood pressure spiked every time he beamed those electric eyes in her direction.

“Brady will get his share of attention when he returns from that honeymoon.” She slid the backpack over her shoulder. “Unless I’ve already solved the case.”

“I hope you can.”

So did she. “Can we talk a minute before I see the homes?”

He paused, one hand on the door lever. “What about?”

“You.”

His head dropped back and he groaned. “Dad won’t be satisfied until you do, so go ahead. I have all day.”

“Does that bother you?”

He hiked an eyebrow. “Does what bother me?”

“Spending the day with me.”

Sawyer studied her for several uncomfortable seconds, his expression serious. She expected some flirtatious remark, a come-on.

Instead, he said, “The jury is still out on that.”

“Fair enough.” She was disappointed and the reaction ruffled her. Why should she care one way or the other whether he enjoyed her company? He was a client, not a friend. “I’ll need a list of all your friends, particularly women you’ve dated recently, along with their contact information.”

“That’s a bit invasive, isn’t it?”

“Part of the investigation. Jilted girlfriends can sometimes harbor anger for a long time. You know the old adage. There is no fury like a woman scorned.”

“Scorned?” He frowned and his eyebrows dipped as if she’d insulted him. “I’m not that kind of guy.”

She’d be the judge of that. “Are you seeing anyone now?”

“Not anyone special, if that’s what you mean. Are you?”

His tone was relaxed and conversational but Jade stiffened anyway. Her traitorous pulse jumped higher than a kangaroo on a trampoline.

With self-protecting snarkiness, she crossed her arms tightly and glared. “I’m asking the questions, if you don’t mind. Who have you dated in the last month?”

Sawyer shifted in his bucket seat, bounced a fist against the steering wheel and, with a sigh, reluctantly mentioned two names.

He had to be lying. While assuring herself her interest was purely professional, she pressed. “That’s all? Two?”

He gave her a puzzled look. “Clare and I are work pals, though, nothing serious there. We work together sometimes, so occasionally we grab dinner or watch a ball game. She’s fun. Knows how to laugh and have a good time.”