He didn’t order anything for himself, just stood patiently waiting for them to be served. Several women were casting him glances, clearly liking what they saw. Carly had to admit, black leather suited him.
“So I guess one of those Harleys out front is yours,” she said, working to make conversation.
“That’s right. I like to ride. Gives me a chance to breathe.”
She studied his face. “The black one, right? That one’s yours.”
The sexy way his mouth curved made the bottom drop out of her stomach.Soo not good.
“That’s right. How’d you know?”
“That bike’s all about power and control. That would be you.”
His gaze remained on her face. “Or maybe I just like black.” He turned to look at the three other men in his group, who were watching them as if they were performers on stage. “Old friends,” he said. “Come on, I’ll introduce you. Row already knows them.”
Carly slipped off the bar stool, felt Cain’s big hand at her waist as he walked her across the room. She tried not to notice the heat spreading out through her body.
He stopped in front of the battered wooden table. “The blond guy with the ’stache, that’s Rick Dugan. You need your wisdom teeth pulled, he’s your man.” Dugan saluted, flashing a white grin that was a walking ad for his work.
“The black guy with the shaved head—that’s Delroy Aimes. We call him Del.” The black guy winked. “He’s a criminal attorney. If you get in trouble, he’s a good man to know.”
Del chuckled.
“The guy with the pretty face and goofy grin is Johnnie Banducci.”
“Hello, sweet thing,” Johnnie said, clearly the ladies’ man of the group, though he wasn’t much competition to Cain; at least Carly didn’t think so.
“Guys, this is Carly Drake, Joe Drake’s granddaughter.”
Carly smiled. “Nice to meet you all. I live in Iron Springs now so I’m sure we’ll be running into each other once in a while.”
“Oh, I hope so, darlin’,” Johnnie said.
Carly wished Cain would step back out of her space but instead he moved a little closer. The smile fell off Johnnie’s face.
Carly looked up at Cain. “I need to get back to Row. I’ll leave you to your friends. Thanks for the drink.”
“My pleasure,” he said.
Carly considered telling him about the note, but now wasn’t a good time. Maybe she’d call him tomorrow. Or maybe not.
He walked her back to her seat at the bar, then sat back down with his friends.
“Wow,” Row said as Carly climbed up on the bar stool. “That was interesting.”
“What was interesting? You mean because he came over to say hello? He’s helping the sheriff with the Hernandez case. We both wound up at the department this morning at the same time.”
Row shook her head, shifting the dark red curls across her shoulders. “What was interesting was the way he was looking at you. Cain has a standing rule—no messing with the women in Howler County—or anywhere else around here. Blackland Ranch is his personal refuge. That’s what he calls it. He doesn’t want any hassles, and a pissed-off former bedmate can be a very big pain in the ass. Cain dates women in Dallas or pretty much anywhere he wants, but not here.”
“Probably smart,” she said, ignoring a stupid little pang.
“Yeah, that’s his rule. But the way he was looking at you? Kind of seemed like he was thinking of breaking the rule.”
Carly ignored a little jolt of something she refused to name. Cain had his choice of women. Even if he were interested in her, no way was she lining up in that queue. She reached for her tequila and finished the shot, took a sip from the fresh shot Cain had bought.
“We better order some food or we aren’t going to be able to drive home,” Row said. “Burgers sound good?”
She hadn’t eaten much that day, and suddenly realized she was starving. “A burger sounds great.” Then she was going home before the tequila kicked in, before the drink made her think of Cain and what might happen if her clothes fell off.
