Siren in Waiting

Chapter Three

Mouse put the finishing touches on the big bed. She’d cleaned it, and now with brand-new sheets, it looked comfy and homey. She’d gotten rid of the heavy drapes and the dark quilts. Now the room looked light and airy, despite the ornate nature of the furnishings. Once she’d stripped and refinished the antique bedroom set, it would look just right. For now, she was perfectly satisfied with her afternoon’s work. The bedroom was fresh and feminine, and the bathroom fixtures all worked. She’d scrubbed the bathroom until she was sure her arms would fall off, but it sparkled now. The antique claw-footed tub was a beautiful monstrosity. She couldn’t wait to soak in it, but she’d been practical. She’d used the shower.

She moved in front of the window unit, allowing the cold air to caress her skin. She felt different somehow.

Stronger.

She had a home, and it was all hers. Despite the fact that the majority of her belongings were back at her parents’ house, she intended to spend the night here. She had an overnight bag with some clothes and her personal items.

Of course, she could always try on the clothes she’d found. Her eyes strayed to the trunk she’d discovered in the back of the master closet. She’d felt odd opening it, like she was spying on someone, but according to the contract she’d signed, the trunk and all its contents now belonged to her. Maudine Bellows only had one relative, and he’d died six months before she had. Even if Barry Bellows hadn’t been killed in a car accident, Mouse seriously doubted he would have wanted his elderly aunt’s clothes. The property was another matter. He would have been deeply interested in that. Barry Bellows had run a real estate agency along with his partner, Bryce Hughes. Bryce had already offered to take the place off her hands.

Mouse wasn’t interested in making a quick buck. If Bryce Hughes got his hands on the place, he would probably tear it down and put in a convenience store or a fast-food restaurant. The last thing Deer Run needed was another place to get a ninety-nine cent burger.

Mouse let the thought go. It was nicer to think about the trunk. It had been like finding a treasure trove. Gorgeous, classic clothes. Vintage designers. She knew a couple of the names. Chanel. Givenchy. Everything looked like it had come straight out of a Doris Day film. Or Audrey Hepburn.

Old Lady Bellows had secrets she’d hidden.

And the pictures. Mouse had stared at them in shocked disbelief. Apparently during Hollywood’s heyday, Maudine Bellows had worked in Dallas for Republic Pictures. The old black-and-white photos told the tale. Maudine was smiling as she stood next to John Wayne and Clarke Gable. Maudine had lived a life.

Mouse couldn’t help but wonder why Maudine’s final years had been so lonely and bitter. The woman smiling in the pictures alongside Claudette Colbert had little resemblance to the Maudine Mouse had known.

Along with the clothes and photos, Mouse had found a thick book. A diary. Maybe the truth of Maudine’s life was in there. She’d only glanced at the first page, the lines written in a flowy, feminine hand. The first words of the diary had been written on July 5, 1956.

This is my diary. I will kill anyone who reads it. Yes. That means you.

Yep, there was a reason Maudine Bellows had never been married. Mouse touched the book and slid it into the dresser drawer she’d cleaned out earlier. It was now free of old antacids, a mildewed V.C. Andrews paperback, and a hideous set of what Mouse was pretty sure were bottom-teeth dentures. She’d handled those with care. There was a rumor that Maudine had eaten several local children with those false teeth.

She sighed and decided to get dressed. Bo should be here any minute. She picked out a skirt and a T-shirt. It was boring, but that was who she was.

Was that who she had to be?

She stared down at the clothes. They looked like they might fit. Many of them were far too formal for dinner at Patty Cake’s, but there was a pretty yellow-and-white sundress. The skirt was gathered, and the neckline was far lower than anything she’d worn before. Surely it wouldn’t fit, but did it really hurt to try?

Ten minutes later, Bo knocked on her door. She let him in, grateful that the lights in the parlor worked. The hall light didn’t, but she had enough illumination from the parlor and the living room. She strode toward the back of the house to the living area and shut off the lamp, leaving only the soft light from the parlor on.

“Damn, girl, where did you get that dress? Why are you wearing a dress at all? You do know we’re going to Patty’s, right? Was I supposed to take you somewhere else?” Bo stood in her dilapidated hallway with a quizzical look on the face she loved so well.

Bo O’Malley was proof positive that the universe just loved some people. Six foot three with a crop of perfect gold hair and a drool-worthy body, no one ever would think to compare him to a rodent. He looked down at her, his blue eyes wide.

“No. I just thought it would look nice.” She felt self-conscious all of a sudden. She was brutally aware that her breasts were far more exposed than she was used to. The bodice of the sundress formed a deep V, and the dress clung where her usual clothes hung down. She normally wore shapeless clothes that gave the illusion that she weighed more than she did. Her breasts seemed curvy and round now. A moment ago, she thought they looked a little sexy. She’d stood in front of the mirror and vamped, giggling at the thought that Bo might take one look at her and fall at her feet.

Bo didn’t look like he was interested in her new look. All she could read on his face was disapproval. Maybe she didn’t look as nice as she thought.

His face was set in deep lines. He finally waved his hand as if dismissing the whole thing entirely. “It does look nice. I’m just surprised is all. Um. I didn’t think you really cared about looking nice.”

That was typical. Bo didn’t even see her as female. “Well, maybe I’m changing. I’m almost twenty-six. Maybe it’s about time I started dating.”

It really was time. She had several plans in place.

Bo actually laughed.

“I’ll go change.” She started to turn and changed her mind. She could change back into her old clothes, but her mind would be working all night. At this point, all she would think about all evening long would be the fact that Bo didn’t find her attractive. He couldn’t help that. Maybe she needed a bit of distance. “You know what, I think I’ll just eat here. You go on. I’m sure Clarissa needs a dinner date.”

His hand came out and caught her elbow. “Don’t be like that, Mouse. I was just surprised. And you never seemed interested in dating. I’m sorry. Come on. I don’t want to eat dinner with Clarissa. I want to spend some time with my best friend.”

Her heart softened. It was a strange friendship that she and Bo had formed, but she depended on it. “All right.”

And she didn’t want to be alone tonight. She’d been alone far too often since her father passed. The quiet had begun to eat away at her. It was all right when she had something to do, but at night when she was all alone, she felt the heavy weight of her loss.

“Besides, I’m meeting Clarissa at the honky-tonk after I drop you back off. I might not want to spend a lot of time talking to the girl, but she can sure dance.” Bo gave her a wink and opened the door.

Mouse sighed. It looked like she was in for a long night.

Trev looked down at the menu, though he didn’t really need to. The menu at Patty Cake’s hadn’t changed in thirty years. He had it memorized, but staring at the menu meant he didn’t have to deal with his brother-in-law. Or the fifteen other people staring a hole through him. It was way too much to think that the good people of Deer Run were above reading tabloids.

“And now you’re going to run someone else’s ranch?” Bryce’s voice sounded nasal to Trev’s ears.

He glanced over the menu at his brother-in-law. Bryce Hughes was handsome in an antiseptic fashion. He was always fastidiously clean. Bryce had come up from Houston and started a real estate company. He’d done well for himself. Even when the market had fallen out, Bryce seemed to make money.

Trev had no idea what his sister saw in the man.

“It’s called being a foreman. I know ranching.” At least he used to. He’d spent a couple of weeks at a ranch in Willow Fork recently. He’d been happy that it had all seemed to come back to him. He’d even enjoyed the easy camaraderie he’d had with the other hands. He was genuinely looking forward to getting started at O’Malley’s ranch.

“Yeah, well, I would have said you knew football, too,” Bryce grumbled.

“Stop,” Shelley said under her breath. “You promised.”

It had been like this ever since he’d walked in the door of his sister’s house. Bryce had tried to cut him down in a million different ways. Bryce had come home and immediately asked if Shelley had hired a new lawn-care man because the truck in the driveway obviously belonged to the help and should be parked in the back of the house where it wouldn’t offend anyone.

Yeah, he just loved his brother-in-law.

“Football and I didn’t get along,” Trev muttered, looking back at the menu. That was how Leo had explained it to him. He had the talent for the game, but he couldn’t handle the pressure. Leo had tried to get him to understand that didn’t mean he was a failure. The words had always rung hollow to Trev’s ears.

“Trev always was a cowboy.” Shelley seemed determined to put a positive light on everything. “He used to ride the fences with Daddy every morning. He wasn’t even eight years old, but he would get up before dawn and help out.”

He’d liked that time with his dad. Everything was peaceful and quiet. Later on in the day, his father had a million responsibilities, but in the pale light right after dawn, it had been just Trev and his father.

Maybe if he hadn’t discovered he could throw a damn football, he would have been riding the fences that morning his father had a heart attack. Maybe his father wouldn’t have died and Momma wouldn’t have had to find him out in the south field, his old horse nudging him like the damn thing was trying to wake the man up. Trev had just started junior year two-a-days. He’d rarely talked to his dad after he’d started football, but the old man had come to every game.

“Trev was always a natural with horses, too. He always did ride better than me. I miss riding.” Shelley took a sip of her tea. “Maybe Lexi wouldn’t mind if I came out and went riding.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Bryce said, frowning. “We talked about this, babe.”

A little bit of Shelley’s light faded, but she smiled anyway. “Of course. I have things I need to concentrate on, anyway. I got a new client. The mayor asked me to redesign his office.”

Bryce nodded. “Yes, that’s right. You need to concentrate on your business. Hey, did you hear the Hobbes girl bought old lady Bellows’s place? I had really hoped we could snap that sucker up. I assumed the auction would be months out, but they got that will through probate damn fast. Who would have guessed the old lady would leave everything she had to a damn animal shelter?”

“I thought it was smart of them to just auction it all off. They made a bundle,” Shelley said.

Bryce’s eyes narrowed, his irritation plain. “I would have paid them more. It’s the perfect place to put a strip mall.”

Shelley rolled her deep-brown eyes. “Yes, tear down the gorgeous house to put in a strip mall. We need another dollar store.”

The bell rang as the door swung open.

“Speak of the devil.” Bryce turned to greet the newcomers.

Oh, but what walked in that door didn’t even vaguely resemble a devil. Trev felt every nerve in his body go on high alert as a brunette walked through the doorway. She was wearing a yellow dress that showed off an hourglass figure. The sweet-looking dress nipped in her middle and plunged exactly where it should, emphasizing her waist and her impressive breasts. Most women in his life didn’t have curves like that. Even at The Club in Dallas, he’d been surrounded by wealthy, fashionable women. They tended to be slender and well made-up. Most had had a nip and tuck by the time they hit twenty-five.

Not this woman. She was natural. As far as Trev could tell, she wasn’t wearing any makeup past a little mascara. Her skin was fair, with an almost translucent quality. No spray tan for that one. Trev let his eyes roam as she glanced around obviously looking for a table. A waitress approached, and the woman got the sweetest smile on her face. Her eyes glanced down before she forced them back up. She spoke quietly.

He’d been trained to look for signs, and every bit of that training told him he’d just hit the jackpot. There was a sure intelligence in her brown eyes that belied her obvious submissive nature.

Her hair was pulled back in a bun. If she was his, he would walk straight up to her and tangle his hands in it. He would force her hair to spill over her shoulders, drowning her in brown and gold velvet. From the massive size of that knot at the back of her head, Trev would bet it reached almost to her waist. And it would be soft, like the woman herself. She would be silky and sweet. She would kneel at his feet, and when she looked up at him, he would feel ten feet tall. He wouldn’t feel like a failure. He would feel like her Master.

This woman was soft, so soft it practically poured off her. When her lips turned up in a shy smile, Trev wondered what they would feel like on his cock.

Fuck. It had been too damn long since he’d had sex. He thought about the small bag he’d brought with him. Julian Lodge had given it to him the day he’d finished his training and was allowed to work with subs in The Club. Leo had laughed and told him never to be caught without his kit. At one point in time, Trev had always carried around an athletic bag. Now he carried a small leather one with lube and ropes and a whip.

You never know when a little sub is going to need some discipline, Leo always said.

He imagined her tied up and spread on his bed, awaiting his pleasure.

And then he noticed the man beside her. A tall, strong cowboy in Levi’s, a western shirt, and well-worn boots. Blond hair curled out from under his Stetson.

Bo O’Malley.

Just the person he didn’t want to see. He owed Bo O’Malley one of those long, rambling apologies he never seemed to get good at. It was something every addict got used to, but Trev wasn’t looking forward to it. He’d forced himself to apologize to so many people, but he was pretty sure Bo O’Malley wasn’t going to listen.

Bo put a hand to the pretty woman’s waist and started to lead her to an empty booth on the opposite side of the diner. The woman’s head turned. Her eyes trailed back and locked on to him. They widened in recognition.

Trev felt his stomach knot. He couldn’t change his face or his past. He just hated the way people looked at him now.

Except she smiled shyly, as though she was just looking at a stranger and trying to be polite.

Damn, but he wanted to eat her up.

“Do you know Mouse?” Shelley asked, an expectant look on her face.

“Mouse?” Trev had to force his eyes away. The woman with the brown hair scooted into her booth. She faced his way, but looked at Bo. Was she his wife?

Bryce snorted. “Mouse Hobbes.”

He searched his brain, trying to connect that face to a name. “Bethany Hobbes?”

A vision of a ridiculously shy girl from his high school whispered across his mind. She’d been younger than him. She’d been smart, but quiet. Utterly ignored. He couldn’t ignore her now. He hadn’t reacted this way to a woman in years. His hands tightened around his coffee mug. Despite the ache in his groin, it felt damn good to want something, anything besides a drink.

Bryce continued. “Poor girl’s been chasing after that cowboy since they were kids from what I hear. I have no idea why he lets her hang around. She’s been his shadow for years.”

“She’s not his girlfriend?” Trev’s cock had been at half-staff, but the idea that she was unattached had an effect on him. His cock hardened to the point that he could probably pound nails with the damn thing.

Submissive. The word floated in his brain like a butterfly. That girl right there was submissive, and she probably had no idea. He could show her. He could train her.

Now Bryce outright laughed. “Mouse? Mouse doesn’t have a boyfriend. I don’t think the girl has ever even been kissed. Who the hell in this town would kiss old Mouse?”

Trev could think of a couple of places he’d like to kiss her. Those full lips. Her round breasts. She probably had a plump pussy. He could put his mouth on all of those places. Never been kissed. Never been fucked. Never knelt at her Master’s feet. Trev knew that little fact should have sent him running. It didn’t. It just made him think about the fact that she knew absolutely nothing. And he could teach her.

But apparently she was in love with Bo. Hadn’t he taken enough from Bo?

“Her name is Bethany,” Trev heard himself saying. He didn’t like the nickname. It smacked of a put-down. He might not get to know the woman, but he wasn’t about to allow anyone to put her down around him. He knew the way things worked. If she was submissive and no one watched out for her, she could get ground beneath everyone’s feet.

Bryce snorted. “Good luck with getting that to change. She even calls herself Mouse.”

If she was his, everyone would change or they would have to deal with him. And that included her sweet ass.

“So, do you really want to order from a Podunk, piece-of-shit, hole-in-the-wall?” The waitress stared down at him. He hadn’t seen her walk up. He’d been far too taken by this sweet little Mouse. Bethany. Her name was Bethany. He was going to give her the respect she deserved.

Damn. The waitress’s words reached his brain. He’d really called this place a shit hole in fucking People magazine. He’d said a lot of things in the tabloids he shouldn’t have said. The reporter had practically cackled as she wrote the story. And he’d fucked her. And gotten high with her.

He turned his face up to meet the waitress’s glare. Patty’s hair had more gray in it, but she still looked like she could kill a man with just her glare. “I am sorry, ma’am. I’ve always loved this place, ever since I was a kid. I didn’t right know what I was saying at the time. I pretty much hated myself, so I said awful things about everyone.”

She simply stared. “Well, I could certainly see why you would hate yourself. Do you want to order something, or do we small-town idiots not even know how to make a burger?”

He wasn’t going to win with her. “I would love a burger.”

Hopefully she didn’t spit in it.

Shelley ordered, her mouth tight and tense. Bryce simply sighed and chose not to eat.

Patty walked away, her feet beating against the linoleum.

Bryce scooted out of the bench. “I should go back to the office. You two enjoy your time together. I hope once Trevor gets to work, he won’t have much time for us.”

“You hope?” Shelley asked.

“I meant suspect. I suspect.” Bryce shrugged as though it didn’t really bother him. “He’s going to be living at the ranch. I doubt he’ll get out much. I mean, ranching is such hard work. That’s what everyone tells me.”

Bryce pivoted on his expensive loafers and walked away.

Shelley turned sad eyes his way. “Don’t mind him, Trev. He hasn’t been the same since his best friend died. He’s been a little lost. Barry was his business partner. He died a few months back. Bad accident. He’s had a lot to deal with.”

And Bryce had obviously dealt with it by being the biggest asshole known to man. Trev leaned forward and took his sister’s hand in his. “Are you happy with him?”

She suddenly seemed to find the tabletop endlessly interesting. “He’s my husband.”

He tightened his fingers around hers. “That doesn’t answer my question.”

She pulled away. “Trev, you weren’t around when Mom got cancer. You don’t know what it was like. I needed someone, and Bryce was there. He isn’t the best husband in the world, but damn it, he was there when I needed him.”

Trev sat back, his stomach in knots. Of course. Shelley had married right around the time their mother had been diagnosed with stage three esophageal cancer. Trev had been drunk off his ass the night his mother had called to tell him. He was pretty sure he’d hung up on her and went right back to his party.

When the bills had kicked in, he was just about tapped out. He’d sold his house and only managed to give his sister a measly ten grand after he’d paid off all his bills. Bryce had probably put forth more.

“Sorry. I won’t mention it again.” Small talk. He needed small talk. His eyes strayed to Bethany. He wanted to ask about her. She’d been so smart in high school. Why hadn’t she gone off to college? Why was she still hanging out in Deer Run? He didn’t ask though. She wasn’t his, and he fucked up everything he touched, so he would leave her be. “So, I heard the rodeo was great this year.”

Shelley reached out. “Trev, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad.”

He ached inside. “Not at all. It’s all right. Now tell me about the rodeo.”

Bo managed to not roll his eyes as Bryce Hughes approached. He was a pretentious son of a bitch who always overdressed for the occasion. The man wore slacks and a blazer to the fair. And he always looked down on cowboys.

“Mr. O’Malley,” Bryce said with an unctuous smile on his face. Unctuous. Bo grinned. He only knew what that meant because Mouse used it an awful lot. She was fond of big words. He’d learned a lot from her.

Now he was learning a little bit about jealousy because that unctuous asshole was looking at her breasts. He might have learned what “unctuous” meant from Mouse, but “asshole” had just come with the territory. Bryce Hughes was a married asshole looking at a younger woman’s tits.

“Mr. O’Malley’s my brother,” Bo said between clenched teeth. “You can just call me Bo.”

Bryce seemed unconcerned with Bo’s show of defiance. “Well, I wasn’t sure what your brother had done about his name given his marital status. He might have taken on his wife’s name. Or the other fellow’s.”

And that was the crux of Bo’s whole world. His brother wasn’t normal. His brother lived an alternative lifestyle. His brother was always a badass who didn’t mind throwing his power around, so Bo took the brunt.

“His name is still O’Malley.” Bo felt his eyes narrow. He’d seen Bryce as he’d walked in. He knew exactly who Bryce had been sitting with. He hadn’t missed a damn thing. “And I would watch where you decide to throw stones. Your brother-in-law is the most hated man in the county.”

“Bo.” Mouse gasped a little. The prim set of her mouth let Bo know he’d done something she considered impolite.

Well, Bo didn’t care. Trev McNamara was an asshole addict who should never have shown his face in this county again. Didn’t he have strippers to screw? It seemed the man even neglected his strippers. What was the world coming to?

“It wasn’t my idea to have him come back here,” Bryce said, adjusting his tie. “Trust me, when I married his sister, I thought I was gaining an asset. He was the hero of Deer Run when he signed that contract with the San Antonio Bandits. I imagined his face on my billboards telling everyone to come to Hughes-Bellows for all their real estate needs. Life doesn’t always turn out the way you think it will. How is that new house treating you, Mouse?”

Bo really didn’t like the way Bryce looked at Mouse’s breasts. He had the insane urge to get Mouse a sweater despite the hundred plus degree heat. The neckline plunged down, showing off a crazy amount of creamy, smooth skin and the rounded tops of breasts he hadn’t imagined were really there. She always wore loose clothes. Bo had thought she was a little chubby. This dress dispelled those mistaken impressions. She was curvy and female.

What had she been thinking putting on that dress?

“I love it.” Pure pleasure could be heard in her voice. Her lips curled up in a strangely attractive little smile, like she had a secret. He’d never seen Mouse smile like that. “It’s the most beautiful house ever.”

“I’m surprised it wasn’t condemned. Well, when you figure out it’s more trouble than it’s worth, you go on and give me a call.” Bryce held out his card. Mouse’s hand came out obediently and took it.

Bryce walked away without saying good-bye.

“Why didn’t you tell that fucker to shove his card up his ass?” Something nasty was brewing in Bo’s gut. He almost never cursed around Mouse. He tended to like the person he became when she was around, but tonight he felt like fighting.

He didn’t fool himself. He felt like fighting because he was in the same room with Trev McNamara.

They had been friends once. After Aidan had left for college, Trev had practically become his big brother. Trev had been the quarterback. Bo had been a freshman in need of a mentor. They had bonded because unlike a lot of senior players, Trev had taken the kid under his wing. He’d taught Bo a lot about football. After a while it had been easy to hang out with the older student. There was a picture somewhere of Bo and Trev smiling on the day Trev graduated from high school. He’d told Bo that his door was always open in Austin. That had been a bold-faced lie. Bo could still remember Trev telling him to go away that night when Bo had needed a friend.

“I won’t call him. He would just try to talk me into a bad deal.” Mouse still tucked the card into her purse. “I just don’t see any reason to be impolite.”

“He’s a dickhead. Everyone knows it.” Bo couldn’t help but notice the fact that Mouse’s eyes kept straying away from him. “What’s got you so distracted?”

“Is that really who I think it is?”

She was looking at him. The fucker. “Yeah. That’s Trevor McNamara. Haven’t you seen an addict before?”

Her mouth turned down. “I’ve seen him before. I wasn’t close to him or anything. It’s just been years since I saw him on anything but a magazine cover or the television. I never thought he would come back. He looks good. He looks healthy.”

“He shouldn’t have come back. After what he said about this town in People magazine, I’m surprised he would show his face.”

Mouse shrugged. “He was a different person. And he didn’t say anything so awful.”

“He called us all small-minded rubes.”

Mouse stared.

He hated it when she made him feel like a dumb-ass. “I know what a rube is.”

He sure did now. He’d looked it up after reading that article.

Mouse picked up the menu. “Well, if you know what it means, then you know he was mostly right. And he was definitely right about the small-minded part. Hasn’t the way this town treats your brother taught you anything? They haven’t exactly been tolerant. If you don’t fit a very narrow criteria, you don’t get to fit in here. I should know.”

Mouse did know. She never had fit in, but that wasn’t really her fault. She was too quiet, too odd to really find her place here. Trev had been the damn king of Deer Run in his day. Trev had it good and had thrown it all away.

Bo didn’t like the way Mouse was looking at Trev.

“He’s an addict, you know. He got kicked out of the pros. Do you know how bad you have to get to be kicked out of football when you have an arm like his?”

“He went to rehab,” Mouse argued.

“Three times. It never took. He’s an addict. It’s all he’ll ever be.” Trev was an asshole, too. But he hadn’t always been. Bo remembered a time when Trev had been a goddamn lifeline. Trev had reached out and pulled Bo out of the abyss.

And then tossed his ass right back in. Trev was like everyone else. Everyone left. Everyone but Mouse. Even though his brother was back in his life, Aidan had Lucas and Lexi. He didn’t really have time for Bo.

“He’s obviously trying to get better. Why else would he be here?” Mouse asked.

Sweet, naïve Mouse. “He hasn’t got anywhere else to go. No one will have him. He got dropped by everyone. He got fired from his job, and his agent quit on him. All of his sponsorship deals dried up. He’s got nothing.”

A gentle smile crossed her lips. “And now he’s come home. This is where he should be. This is where he can find himself again. Everyone deserves a second chance, Bo.”

But Trev had had more than his share of chances.

“You used to be friends with him, right?” Mouse asked the question as Darlene, the waitress, put a Coke in front of her.

Darlene, Patty’s daughter, was just about the biggest gossip in town. She smiled conspiratorially as she pulled out her notepad. “Are y’all talking about Trevor McNamara?”

“No,” Bo said immediately. The last thing he needed was to get caught talking about that idiot.

“Yes.” Mouse just leaned in close to Darlene.

Darlene obviously chose to ignore Bo. “My momma says he’s not welcome in this town anymore after all the bad things he said, but damn, that man is hot. And he has a reputation, if you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, he has a reputation. As a cokehead and an asshole,” Bo complained.

Mouse ignored him, too. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Darlene’s blonde ponytail bobbed as she got to one knee. “I’m talking about sex, Mouse. He’s got a real bad reputation when it comes to sex. And by bad, I mean good.”

Bo thought seriously about poking out his own eyeballs with the knife on the table. Then he wouldn’t have to see his best friend glancing that jerk’s way and blushing. Blushing.

“He’s good at sex?” Mouse asked, her breath hitching just a little.

Darlene nodded. “The way I hear it, he can go all night. Some of the women who went to high school with him talked about the fact that he liked a lot of foreplay, but once he got in there, he didn’t leave for a long time. I know that everyone in this town hates him, but I think that won’t keep some of the women from crawling into his bed, real quiet like.”

Women. They were so much worse than men. “Darlene, I’d like to order now.”

She popped back to her feet. “Of course.”

Bo gave her his order, and she took Mouse’s, too. The minute she bounced off, Bo turned to his best friend. He gave off what he sincerely hoped was an air of paternal authority.

“Darlene is talking crap, you know.”

Mouse’s eyes trailed off. He knew who she was looking at. “I don’t know about that. Why would she lie?”

Bo rolled his own eyes. “Because that girl likes to gossip more than she likes to breathe. All right, let me let you in on a little secret. A man like Trev McNamara is never going to be good in bed.”

Now he had her attention. Her face caught his. “Why?”

So naïve. She really did need him. “Because he doesn’t have to be. That man sitting over there was born with everything he needed to attract a hundred women at a time to his bed. He has looks and athletic ability. He can be a charming bastard when he wants to be. From what I’ve heard, the asshole’s even got a monster cock. No man who has all those things is going to give a damn about foreplay. He doesn’t need to. All he has to do to get a woman to open her legs is to smile at her. That’s going to be his version of foreplay.”

“How do you feel about foreplay?”

A sudden vision of stripping Mouse down and finding out if she tasted as innocent as she looked assaulted him. He loved to eat pussy. He could spend hours with his tongue up a woman’s cunt. Would Mouse taste sweet and delicate? Or would she get wet and creamy and tangy? How long would he have to lick her before her juice flowed over his tongue?

Fuck. He was thinking about Mouse and getting a goddamn hard-on in the middle of the diner.

“Sorry,” she said, looking down at her hands. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

She’d utterly misread him, but then Bo knew she probably did that a lot. She had very little experience. He wanted to let the whole conversation drop, but his hand came out and slid over hers.

“I like foreplay. When you decide to make love for the first time, you need to tell that man that you want a lot of foreplay. Don’t let him cheat you out of that.”

What was happening between him and Mouse? God. He wasn’t sure if he was ready for this. He wasn’t sure of anything at all. He loved Mouse. He knew that deep down. He loved her probably more than he’d loved anyone in his life.

But he wasn’t ready to commit to anyone. Hell, if he did commit to her, it didn’t mean everything would work out. He could ruin the only good relationship in his life by letting his dick lead him on.

Besides, if he slept with Mouse, it would mean something. She wasn’t a good-time girl. She wasn’t someone he could fuck and laugh when the next night she fucked one of his buddies. If he spent the night inside Mouse, it would mean she belonged to him. It would mean everyone would know about them. Right now, they were a weird pair. His friends and the rest of the town thought Bo was nice taking care of the odd girl. It would be different if they knew he loved her. He would be lumped in with her—an odd, misfit outcast.

Damn, he really hated himself sometimes.

“I want to go to the honky-tonk tonight.”

Bo let go of her hand. “What? Why?”

Mouse didn’t belong at The Rusty Spur. It was a dive bar just outside the county line. It was one of Bo’s favorite places in the world. It was also the part of his life he kept hidden from Mouse.

She leaned back in the booth. “I’ve never been. I’m almost twenty-six years old. I haven’t lived at all. I’ve spent every ounce of my energy taking care of my parents. I didn’t do a lot of the things other women my age have done. I want to see what it’s like.”

It was smoky and nasty. It was filled with energy and life and beer and a whole bunch of men who would be all over her in a heartbeat. No way. No how. No go.

“You’ve never been to a crack house, either, Mouse. That doesn’t mean you should go. You just cross that right off your bucket list. I’m not taking you.” He was supposed to meet Clarissa. He was going to drink for a while and then head on back to her place for a nice long screw. He wasn’t sure how that would work when he explained he needed to drop off Mouse before they got to the fun bit.

Her chin came up. “Fine. I can go by myself.”

Had something happened to her in that house? Where was this coming from? He stared at her like he’d never seen her before. “How are you going to get there? You don’t even like to drive.”

Those smooth, white shoulders shrugged. “I can drive when I want to. Or I can ride my bike.”

He slapped his hand on the table. This was getting ridiculous. “You will do neither one. That road is dark and dangerous. You could get killed.”

She bit her bottom lip, and a frustrated huff left her mouth. “I could get killed walking down the street. I want to go, Bo. I’m tired of being alone. I want to meet someone. I joined this online dating service, but I haven’t found anyone yet. It seems like we’re a little isolated. I’ve exchanged a couple of e-mails, but no one lives close enough for me to date.”

Bo felt like his head was about to explode. “You did what?”

He’d practically screeched. He toned it down. Everyone in the restaurant was looking at them now. Mouse had turned a spectacular shade of red.

She kept her voice low, but he couldn’t miss the irritation as she explained herself. “I joined this really nice dating site. I got a check from Lexi, and I bought a new computer. She showed me how to set everything up. She said the site I picked was very reputable, but I’m not supposed to meet anyone without Lucas running a background check.”

He was going to kill his brother. Aidan was behind this. He just knew it. Master Aidan just had to stick his nose into everything when it came to some submissive woman. And Lexi. Bo should never have allowed Mouse to work for Lexi. Lexi wrote BDSM romance novels. He loved his sister-in-law, but she was proving to be a bad influence on Mouse.

“Yeah, I bet Ted Bundy could have passed a background check. Serial killers who haven’t gotten caught don’t show up in the system. That’s a real nice plan there, Mouse. Real smart. Let me get this straight. You’ve decided you want to get laid and the best way to do it is to meet some man on the Internet you don’t know from Adam. Since that hasn’t worked out for you, you’re going to pick a guy up in a skank-ass bar. That’s real classy.”

Tears were pooling in her eyes. “You go to that bar all the time. You sound very hypocritical right now.”

He knew he did. He sounded like an asshole. But he couldn’t stand the thought of some jerk who’d had one too many using his girl. His girl. It was happening too soon. They had been building to this for years, but now Bo knew he wasn’t ready. He wasn’t ready to give up the life he had for the one he would have with Mouse. Why couldn’t things stay the same? Why had she put on that dress? Why did she have to look so fucking pretty? Why did he have to be such a goddamn coward?

“Hey, if you want to get a reputation, you feel free to go to that bar. Those men will screw just about anything that walks in the door. You won’t have to look long before one shoves you up against the wall and fucks you right there. Is that what you want? You want to lose your virginity in a honky-tonk? Hell, if all that matters to you is the sex, I can call up five of my friends and set it up for you.”

“Is there a problem here?”

Bo hadn’t realized he’d had an audience. Trev McNamara and his sister stood at their table. Trev’s jaw was clenched, and there was a dangerous glint in his eyes as he looked down at Bo.

Mouse gamely attempted a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. Her nose had turned red. She wasn’t the type of girl who cried pretty. When Mouse cried, she really cried. “No. We’re fine, but thank you so much for asking.”

Trev’s whole face softened when he looked down at Mouse. “Are you sure, ma’am?”

She nodded, but the tears were streaking down her face.

“This is none of your business, Trev.” Bo practically growled at the man, but it was Trev’s sister who replied in a low tone.

“You’ve made it everyone’s business by yelling. You’ve humiliated her. I don’t know what this is about, but no one misunderstood the fact that you just called her a whore in front of the whole diner. Patty’s already on the phone.” Shelley pinned him with her dark eyes. She put her hand out and took Mouse’s. “Hey, let’s go fix your mascara, Mouse.”

Trev cleared his throat.

“Bethany,” Shelley corrected. “Sorry. My brother doesn’t like the fact that people call you Mouse. He doesn’t understand, but he can be immovable about some things. Come on.”

Mouse and Shelley disappeared into the ladies’ room.

“You stay out of this, Trev. And you stay away from her. She isn’t one of your strippers.”

Trev frowned down at him. Bo wished he was standing. He knew even standing, Trev’s six foot five topped him by an inch or two, but now the former quarterback loomed over him. “I realize that. Don’t throw this on me, O’Malley. I’m not the one calling her a whore in public.”

“I didn’t do that.” He certainly hadn’t meant to. “I was trying to talk her out of making a terrible mistake. You know all about mistakes, don’t you?”

“I do, indeed, and you’re making a huge one. This scene is going to haunt her. No one will think less of you, but they’ll talk about her. She’s going to feel this little scene for a long time. Now, we can go a couple of ways. You can shake my hand, and we can pretend this was all a misunderstanding and then people will start talking about us. Or you can prove yourself to be less of a man than I thought you were, and you can keep spitting bile.”

Trev was right. If he held out his hand, people would talk about how Bo O’Malley was the dumb-ass who welcomed the bad boy of Deer Run back to town. Or he could leave Mouse high and dry to take the brunt of his temper.

Bo cleared his face and put a friendly smile there. He held out his hand. Mouse had been through enough without having to listen to gossip about herself. His buddies would give him hell, but Bo could survive it.

“You always were a good man, Bo,” Trev said solemnly as he shook Bo’s hand. “Even when you were just a boy. Scoot over and Shelley and I will eat with you two, and the scene will be utterly forgotten.”

Bo wasn’t sure why, but he did it. He let the bastard sit beside him. He tried not to think about the fact that Trev McNamara calling him a good man had nearly brought a tear to his damn eye. He’d so looked up to this man at one point. And he’d been brutally let down.

When Mouse returned, she sat across from Bo, quieter than she’d been before.

“Mouse, I’m sorry,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

She shook her head. “It’s okay. I won’t mention it again. You’re right, that kind of stuff isn’t for someone like me.”

His heart ached. That kind of stuff. Sex and affection and love.

Mouse turned to Shelley and politely asked about her job. Shelley started talking about her redecorating efforts, and the two were off. He and Trev sat there not talking. But Bo didn’t miss the way Trev’s eyes nearly ate up Mouse.

When his burger came, Bo found he wasn’t hungry anymore.