“Officer Tallulah Gentry?” His eyes lifted to hers. “You’re little Tully Gentry?” Before she could answer, he tipped back his head and laughed. His laughter was as deep and rich as her mama’s dark chocolate fudge cake . . . and annoying as hell. As were his next words. “Little Tully Gentry almost shot me dead.”
If there was one thing Tully hated, it was being called little. “I’m not little.”
His laughter died as his gaze settled on her breasts. “Yeah, I guess you’re not little anymore.” His eyes lifted, along with one side of his mouth. “But I wouldn’t exactly call you full-grown either. Who thought it was a good idea to give such a nervous thing a gun?”
“I wasn’t expecting a raccoon to fall from a tree. And I’m not nervous.”
His dark brows popped up. “Really? If I remember correctly, you were always a nervous, fidgety kid.” She couldn’t argue. Around him, she had always been a bundle of nerves. Which resulted in embarrassing moments—tripping over her own feet, poking herself in the eye with straws, walking into light posts. “And just so you know,” he continued. “An uncoordinated raccoon isn’t a good reason for almost killing a man.”
“You’re right,” she said. “But if you hadn’t been acting so cocky and just told me who you were right away, I would’ve holstered my gun much sooner.”
“Sorry, but cops make me nervous. Especially Promise Springs’ cops. And I’m sure you can figure out why.” He picked up the plywood as if it weighed nothing and set it against the doorframe before grabbing the crowbar and hammering the loosened nails back in place. Once he finished, he headed around the side of the building.
She was going to let him go, but then a thought struck her and she raced after him. She caught up with him just as he reached his truck.
“Jaxon!”
He turned. In the bright beam of her patrol car’s spotlight, she could see how much he’d changed over the years. His boyish face had aged into a man’s. An unhappy man with no dimple creases or crinkled laugh lines. Just smooth harsh angles.
She didn’t know why that made her sad.
His eyebrows lifted beneath the swoop of ebony hair and she realized she was staring.
She cleared her throat. “I was wondering if you could keep what happened tonight between us. I don’t want folks thinking I can’t handle my job.”
“Folks or your daddy?”
The question didn’t surprise her. Everyone in Promise Springs knew how much she idealized her father. “Both.”
He studied her with those piercing gold coin eyes. “What’s in it for me?”
She didn’t know why she felt so disappointed. He was a Hennessy, after all.
“Never mind.” She turned and was almost to her patrol car when he stopped her.
“Hey, Officer Gentry!” When she looked back, her brain couldn’t help but register the extremely hot image he presented with his tatted, muscled arm resting on the open door of his truck and his dark hair framing his strong features. “I’m not a tattler.”
Relief flooded her. “Thank you.”
He nodded and went to get in his truck when a thought struck her.
“Jaxon!” When he glanced over his shoulder, she spoke much softer. “I’m real sorry about your mama.”
Nothing registered on his face. No sadness. No pain. Nothing.
“Well, that makes one of us.”
CHAPTER TWO
“You’re wearing a suit?”
Jaxon turned from the mirror he’d been using to tie his tie and looked at his brother who leaned in the doorway. It was ironic Dawson had the looks of an angel with his golden hair and pretty-boy features when he was the rowdiest Hennessy brother with the worst attitude.
Not that Jaxon’s attitude was much better.
His gaze swept over his brother. “And you’re wearing that?”
Dawson glanced down at his black T-shirt, faded jeans, and scuffed boots. “What’s wrong with what I have on?”
