Chapter Two
Like Vegas, Reno was a city that never slept, but the sidewalks were relatively empty as Austin passed under the Biggest Little City in the World archway. Empty enough that he noticed the car slowing behind him. The traffic light ahead of him was green. No reason to slow, unless…
He shot a quick look over his shoulder. A Ford Escort came to a stop and the driver leaned over to look at him through the tinted passenger window. Austin shoved his hands deeper into his jacket pocket and kept walking. The window whirred down.
“Austin.”
Did he really want to continue this?
“Austin…please…”
He rolled his eyes skyward, then reversed course. Stepping over to the car, he braced a hand on the edge of the doorframe as he leaned down to look through the open window. “Do we know each other?”
Kristen’s mouth tightened. “Yes.” He said nothing and her expression faltered. “Would you get in the car?”
He wasn’t certain if it was curiosity or the uncharacteristic note of desperation in her voice that made him reach for the door handle, open the door and settle into the cramped seat. Once he was inside, Kristen focused on the green light beckoning her to move forward, presenting him with a stiff profile.
“Where are you staying?” she asked.
“The Legacy.” Only a few blocks away.
“Maybe we can circle the block a few times.” Her knuckles were going white on the steering wheel.
He gave a careless shrug. “Circle away, Kris.”
She put the car into gear, moving back out onto the street. “I pretended I didn’t know you because my family is unaware that I’ve encountered a few roadblocks.”
She sounded like she was reading from cue cards.
“You might work on your inflection, so that you sound more genuine.”
She shot him a look. “I am being genuine.” She jerked her gaze forward again.
“No, you’re being curt and impersonal.”
She was also desperate—that was more than obvious. Something was wrong in Kristen Alexander’s life and, even as he tried to tamp it down, his protective instinct rose. He tamped harder. “Roadblocks. That’s why you’re slinging drinks?”
She nodded, and then, instead of circling the block, she pulled into an empty parking spot a couple of blocks past the Legacy. Austin was relieved she was no longer trying to drive—her mind was obviously not on the road.
“Why be ashamed of moonlighting?” He knew the answer. People like Kristen didn’t dress up in costumes—especially a costume like this. His gaze slid from the bejeweled feather thing in her hair to the cardigan sweater she wore over the satin corset that barely contained her breasts, down to the super short skirt. Not Kristen’s normal style, unless she’d changed one hell of a lot since high school.
Her chin lifted. “I’m not ashamed.” The words came out a little too casually. “I just…I didn’t want Whit and my folks to worry about me.”
It was a legitimate concern. Reno wasn’t an easy town in many regards, but his gut told him it wasn’t the entire truth.
“I’m asking you not to tell them, Austin.”
He cocked his head. Studied her as the traffic light a few yards away turned first yellow, then red. He didn’t know her that well. He’d fancied himself wildly in love with her once upon a time, only to discover that having a crush didn’t mean you knew someone. Or that they wouldn’t humiliate you in public.
When he didn’t answer immediately, she swallowed nervously, but kept her gaze glued to the street in front of her. “Allow me to keep my private life private.”
“From your sister?”
“Yes.”
“Who can finish sentences for you?”
Her jaw muscles tightened. “I told you—I don’t want my family to be nervous on my account.”
“They seem to be okay with Whitney’s lifestyle.” Her sister tended bar in Marietta and wasn’t shy about having a good time.
“That’s Marietta, and that’s Whitney.”
Good point. Marietta was a small, warm place compared to the Biggest Little City and Kristen was book smart rather than street smart. “What kind of roadblocks have you run into?”
“That’s not the issue.”
“Yeah. I think it is.” He caught the flash of something that looked a lot like annoyance in her eyes—there then gone—and wondered if it was because he’d dared to question her. “Maybe I’m worried about your wellbeing,” he said softly.
Her lips parted and, heaven help him, he couldn’t help but notice how sexy her mouth was. Soft pouty lips that promised…well…many things. “You’re telling me that you came back to the casino because you were concerned about my wellbeing—not because you wanted to catch me in a lie?”
“The lie was a big part of it.” He let out a soft snort. “I mean, come on, Kristen. That is not a normal thing to do.”
“It is if you’re desperate.” Kristen closed her mouth, hard, giving Austin the impression that the words had slipped out before she could stop them. It was a good bet that was exactly what had happened.
“Do you want help?” The words came out automatically, and even though he cursed himself for saying them, knowing full well she’d throw them back at him, he couldn’t help making the offer.
Kristen dropped her gaze to her lap, her lush mouth tightening as she battled it out in her head. She finally drew in a deep breath, as if steeling herself, then brought her chin up and leveled a long look at him. “The way you can help most is to not cause my family worry. Don’t get revenge on me in this way.”
That pissed him off—especially after he’d offered to help. “This isn’t about revenge, Kristen.”
She didn’t look as if she believed him, but she let it go without an argument. “Then please just let things be.”
“I’m not promising anything one way or the other.” He had a feeling that Whitney would want to know that her sister’s life wasn’t all roses, and this situation was strange enough that he was going to mull it over before making any promises. But the fact that she assumed he’d tell might get her to do the right thing. Soon. “I’ll give you a couple days. That’s all I’ll promise.” He reached for the handle and shoved the door open.
“Austin…”
“A couple of days.” He shut the door, then leaned down to give Kristen one last look through the open window. “Have a good life, Kris. I hope it gets better.”
*
Austin stalked toward the entrance of the Legacy, moving with an unconscious grace despite being angry and favoring his right leg. And to think he’d once been fodder for her fantasies. Kristen popped a fist onto the steering wheel, then jumped when the horn sounded. Austin looked back, but she refused to make eye contact as she put the car in gear and pulled away from the curb.
Some nights were better than others.
This night was a crapfest.
What the hell was she going to do now?
Tell the family. What else?
Her temples started throbbing as she stopped at a light. Her dad would understand—eventually, although it wouldn’t be pretty in the beginning—because he was also a driven overachiever. But her mom…her mom was not going to understand. The Alexanders had raised their girls to do the right thing. Kristen had failed them, which made her feel sick inside.
She drove home on autopilot, glad to see that the spot where her roommate’s boyfriend parked was empty…although at least this boyfriend wore clothes. Nothing started the old blood pumping like stepping out of the bedroom in the wee hours and being confronted by a naked guy.
Except for a confrontation with Austin Harding.
That had got her blood pumping, and it was the reason she wouldn’t be sleeping tonight.
Would he tell Whitney?
He might—in a couple of days. She had that. She fully believed he would give her the promised time because, unless he’d changed a lot, that was the kind of guy Austin was. He had a code.
Kristen let herself into the apartment and locked the door before dropping her tote bag on the sofa. The situation would not get better on its own. She had to reconcile her lie. Now. Before it got worse. She’d call home. Confess. As she should have done when she’d first gotten laid off.
Whitney was going to hate her. She’d never kept anything from her twin, except this, and Whitney wasn’t going to be sympathetic to the didn’t-want-to-stress-the-family argument.
Kristen went into the kitchen and poured a glass of water, then went back to the sofa and sat in the semi-darkness. Her feet hurt. Her head hurt. Her life was spiraling out of her control.
What were the chances of running into a hometown guy in a city this size? And, if she had to run into someone, why did it have to be Austin, the only guy she’d ever yelled at in public? A guy who wasn’t exactly blameless in what had gone between them many years ago?
Yes, she’d taken a strip off him in public, but he’d started things. Insulted her. And regardless of what people say, an insult in high school, especially from a guy one was secretly infatuated with…although, in her defense, it was hard to find a girl in that school who wasn’t infatuated with Austin…did feel like the end of the world. Whitney would have shrugged off the insult, flung a few back. Kristen had felt like climbing into a hole. But she hadn’t. Not when he’d drawn the line. And she was still kind of proud of herself for that, even if it might bite her in the butt now.
No. Austin was not blameless. Unfortunately, he’d been in the power position a few hours ago, so she couldn’t point that out.
Maybe, after she confessed to her family, they could have a word.
The idea made her smile grimly.
She set the water on the end table and pulled her phone out of her bag and typed in Austin’s name. American Extreme Bull Riders Tour popped up. Kristen frowned as she studied the lineup of extremely hot guys.
Well, that explained why he was in town. He was a professional bull rider.
He was also pretty damned successful.
She flipped through his internet fan pages, read a few paragraphs of a National Public Radio transcript—Austin on NPR…go figure—then set down the phone. He was successful and articulate. Great. All the better to rat her out.
How had she not known he’d made something of himself?
But then again, why would she know? She rarely made it home, due to college and work, and when she had gone home, she’d focused on family or vegged out in the house she and her sister had inherited from their grandmother. Relished the freedom to do nothing—until nothing started to get to her. That was when she and her mom and Whit would tackle one of the many house projects her mom saved for “the girls”—repainting rooms, sorting through the basement, organizing the garage. They always made a trip to the Marvell Ranch, if the roads were clear, and she’d reconnect with her cousins. She always enjoyed that because, even though she and her cousins rarely saw one another anymore, it never felt awkward when they got together again.
Kristen picked the phone back up and scrolled through more screens, stopping at the American Extreme Bull Riders Tour schedule. Her forehead wrinkled as she studied the dates and cities. Brutal. Austin was in a different city every week from January to October. Before Reno, he’d been in California, and before that New Mexico. Next week he’d be in Salt Lake City. That spoke of dedication. Commitment. The things she’d once told him he lacked. The irony of his success and her lack of it was not lost on her.
Her thumb hovered for a moment, then she hit the ‘image’ button and was rewarded with pages of photos. Austin with his shirt half buttoned. Austin without his shirt. Austin hanging in midair over the back of a bull. Austin throwing his hat.
Austin looking hot as hell.
Kristen clicked out of the screen and set the phone aside.
Enough Austin. The guy could put a wrinkle in her life, and the last thing she should be doing was ogling his semi-naked and very hard body.
*
Austin jammed the keycard in the lock upside down not once, but twice. Finally, he got the damned thing flipped around and opened the door. The drink he’d had before riding the elevator up to fifteenth floor hadn’t kept him from mulling over the situation with Kristen Alexander, but it had affected his motor skills.
He dropped his wallet and change onto the dresser, then went to the window and stared out over the city lights. She’d actually pretended to be someone else to keep her family from knowing that she’d ‘hit a few roadblocks’.
That was not normal.
None of your business.
Right.
He’d been told to butt out and he probably would. Probably.
Whitney would want to know what was up with her twin. That was a given. The question was, should he tell her? Was it his place to tell her? He and Whit were pretty good friends and had been for years. He liked her, felt easy around her—which was the opposite of how he felt around Kristen. Even in the short amount of time they’d been together tonight, she’d managed to put him on edge, both mentally and physically. Made him aware of how ridiculous his idea of ‘melting the ice princess’ had been back in the day.
Austin put a hand to his forehead and squeezed. He’d actually said that to his friends. Melt the ice princess. Of course, he’d been two or three beers in at the time, sitting next to a campfire with four of his buddies, discussing rodeo, life and women.
Who you asking to prom?
Kristen Alexander.
No shit? No way!
Yep…I’m going to melt that ice princess.
He unsnapped his shirt, tossed it onto a chair. Wild laughter had ensued. Followed by a few casual bets. His answer had been born of sheer impulse. Kristen Alexander did not run with his crowd, the rodeo crowd. She was on the fast track to success with a full-ride scholarship already in the bag, and she dated only the class elite. Her own kind.
But Austin always had liked setting his sights high, aiming for the impossible. He’d also had three classes with her that year and, sometimes, when she was concentrating and her features relaxed, she looked different. Softer. More approachable. As if the whole perfection thing was an act and there was another person behind the cool exterior, a person more like her carefree sister. He wanted to meet that person.
A few times he’d gotten a glimpse of her, the other Kristen, the one who didn’t look so high and mighty. He’d seen her laughing in the corner of the library with her friends on one of his rare visits, and after the librarian had shushed them, they’d looked at one another and then Kristen had burst into laughter. She unsuccessfully tried to turn it into a cough, which only made everyone laugh harder. He’d never seen her laugh before. It had intrigued him.
Not long after that, she’d dropped her books in the middle of the hall a few minutes before the bell when the halls were nearly empty. A flurry of papers had scattered across the tiled floor—more paper than he’d probably produced in all his high school English classes. He’d stopped to help and could still remember how she’d looked up as he knelt next to her, a startled expression chasing across her face before she’d smiled. A tentative, self-conscious smile that had transformed her face as her cheeks went pink.
And then her friends had swooped out of a nearby classroom to save the day, and she’d avoided his gaze as she’d stuffed the papers into her binder. He’d left, but couldn’t stop thinking about Kristen Alexander and how she’d seemed more shy than snooty for those few seconds. He’d always found her sexy in a hands-off kind of way, with her full mouth, long legs, firm ass. And now it looked as if there was more to Kristen than she let on. Catnip to a guy who liked a challenge, so he’d set about trying to charm her.
His friends followed his progress closely, since a lot of them had money riding on the deal. Of course, word had gotten to Kristen about his plan to ask her to prom, and she’d sent a short sweet message back to him.
Tell him I don’t date losers.
He could still recall the jaw-dropping moment when one of his rodeo buddies passed the message along with a hearty laugh and a slug in the shoulder. “She thinks you’re a loser, dude.”
Maybe it was because of his father, who’d agonized about feeling like a loser after giving up a promising rodeo career to tend a farm that had gone bankrupt. Or maybe it was the fact that everyone and their grandmother had heard her comeback before he had, and started razzing him about it, but Austin had come close to tipping over after getting the message.
Then he wondered if it was possible to convince her that whatever she’d heard had been taken out of context. Most likely it hadn’t, but he had to do what he could.
With damage control in mind, he’d found her at her locker, wrestling a heavy book off the top shelf. She’d looked over her shoulder at him and froze, eyes wide, lips parted. Classic deer in the headlights.
“Austin.”
He’d reached out to take the book off the shelf and hand it to her. “I heard you called me a loser.” He spoke easily, as if it was no big deal and he was giving her a chance to explain, but people passing by in the hall started to slow their steps. Some came to a standstill. Fine. If she’d called him a loser because of his melt-the-ice-princess remark, then he’d apologize in front of witnesses. Make it right.
Kristen shot a look at the growing crowd and then tilted her chin up. Pressed her full lips tightly together. Refused to answer.
“Did you call me a loser?” Austin asked again. “Because if you did, you should own up to it.”
Her face had gone totally red. “I did.” The quiet words seemed to ring through the hallway.
“Why?” A clear opening for her to mention his campfire boast, and thus a chance for him to apologize and maybe even salvage this situation. She didn’t answer immediately, so he’d asked again. “Why?”
She glanced at the crowd as if looking for a means of escape. There wasn’t one, so she’d swallowed dryly, then tilted up her chin and said defiantly, “Because you act like one.”
The words had felt like ice water hitting him in the face. “What?”
“You don’t go to class, you drink too much, you have no goals. You’re wasting time when you could be achieving something. You swagger around like you own the school, but you don’t respect what goes on here. You act like a loser.”
Austin had stared at her, stunned. Kristen, who never talked, was talking now, and he didn’t like what she had to say.
“I’m not a loser.” The words had come gritting out from between his teeth. He was a high school rodeo champion, for fuck’s sake, but apparently that didn’t count.
She’d hadn’t said another word; in fact, she’d looked as if she wanted to melt into the floor, then she’d pressed the book he’d handed to her against her chest, slammed her locker and pushed her way into the crowd, which parted to let her through.
He could still recall the heat in his face as he fought to look as if it were her loss, then turned without a word and walked in the opposite direction, shoulders square, back straight.
But inwardly he was shaken.
All this time he’d been trying to charm his way into her good graces, and she’d thought he was a loser. Shit. Who else thought that? And if they hadn’t, did they now?
Austin had never thought of himself as having a fragile ego, but he had been damned glad that graduation was only a month away, because that confrontation had changed the way he felt about himself, school. Kristen.
And his buddies, being the kind of guys they were, didn’t let him forget that Kristen Alexander had called him out for being a loser. In their defense, they’d had no idea that he hadn’t shaken off the incident—or that her remarks had cut deeply, making him wonder if he really was a loser. He didn’t have goals, other than graduation and rodeos, certainly had no long-term plan for the future. That had seemed pretty loser-like.
The craziest part of the situation was that the confrontation had led to him becoming friends with Kristen’s twin, Whitney, who’d looked him up the day after the confrontation. She’d made no excuses for her sister; had simply wanted to check on him. And eventually, after most of their graduating class left Marietta, moving on to better and brighter things, they’d become friends.
Austin turned away from the window and sat on the bed, where he pulled off his new boots: first one, then the other, letting them fall to the floor. The ice packs he’d jammed into the small fridge were cold and he slapped one on his shoulder and another on his hip before reaching for the remote.
Big event tomorrow. It was time for a win. He’d made decent money on the tour thus far, and had avoided serious injury; for the most part, he’d only aggravated old injuries and that he could live with, especially with four long months stretching ahead of him. But he hadn’t won yet.
Kristen wouldn’t be there to see it, but he was going to show the world what a winner looked like.