Texas Grit. Barb Han
former friends weren’t supposed to think about each other. Notice, maybe, but not have a visceral reaction to.
“I really appreciate what you did after all these...” She diverted her gaze. In his arms, it was a little too easy to forget the awkwardness she’d felt toward him since high school. She pulled back, because thinking clearly while being barraged with his clean and spicy male scent made her pulse erratic.
Carrie was tall—not Dade tall, but tall—with midnight-black hair and tight curls that had minds of their own on humid days. She’d tamed them today with a straightening iron and had no idea why she was thinking about what her hair looked like after what had just happened. Stress caused her thoughts to bounce around, she reasoned.
“Are you shaking?” Dade asked.
“I guess so. That whole situation was stressful, but I’m fine now,” she said a little too quickly. She wasn’t okay. Recent events with Brett had her off-balance, and Nash had really done a number on her insides. “Nash has been hanging around the shop and tonight he had alcohol on his breath.”
Dade’s hand found hers, like they were still kids and running across the playground—which was as much as the action probably meant to him. It caused her heart to beat wildly against her chest. She chalked her out-of-control reaction up to the stressful encounter with Nash; his eyes had told her everything she needed to know about his intentions.
“What was going down a few minutes ago?” With Dade next to her, she should be able to relax, and she could in some ways, because he’d just saved her from what could’ve turned out to be a very bad situation. One that brought a few harsh memories threatening to crash down around her and reduce her to tears.
She couldn’t help but shudder when she thought about how close she’d been to history repeating itself. Well, now she was twenty-seven, not fourteen.
Dodging those heavy thoughts, she looked at Dade instead.
“That festival worker cornered me, and it got awkward. He’s been asking me out all week, but I refused, so I guess he decided to take matters into his own hands before he left town.” Hearing the words brought on another wave of anger.
A grunt tore from Dade’s throat, but he didn’t immediately speak, even though his jaw muscle ticked. “Tell me everything that happened.”
“He surprised me in the parking lot when I was closing up the shop. Things got a little weird and, luckily, one of my neighbors happened to be near. Samuel must’ve heard my voice or something, because he showed up just in time to distract Nash. I’m so glad the festival’s over so I won’t have to deal with that guy again. He’ll be long gone by morning.”
A dark look crossed Dade’s features and for a split second she thought she’d imagined it. “If I’d known, I would’ve been less friendly.”
That was him being friendly? She’d hate to see someone on his bad side. “I’m just relieved it’s over.”
His eyes darkened anyway, and that jaw muscle bulged again. “Only because I showed up. What if I hadn’t?”
She almost pointed out that Samuel had, too, but she knew he couldn’t have held Nash off for long.
“It’s my fault. I should’ve parked out front. Out of habit, I parked in back. I don’t usually close up the store after dark.” Thinking just how close the call had been caused her to shudder again.
“Don’t blame yourself for being harassed by a jerk.” Dade’s free hand fisted. Tension radiated from him in waves. “Did he physically threaten you?”
“He had me trapped against the wall before Samuel arrived.” The whole experience had tipped her off-balance, and she wasn’t thinking straight. She should be angry, not scared. Too many memories haunted her, bringing her back to that defenseless fourteen-year-old girl she’d been when her foster father had abused her. Well, she was a woman now and could stand up for herself, and she sure as hell didn’t need to make excuses for Nash or blame herself.
“I think it’s best if I take you to the sheriff’s office to give a statement,” he said with calmness to his tone and something else... Possessiveness?
She really was imagining things now.
Shock was wearing off, and the adrenaline rush was making her hands shake. “I appreciate the offer.”
“I don’t trust Nash.” Dade’s jaw clenched as he scanned the area.
He was right. She glanced around. Nash could be anywhere, hiding, biding his time in order to make another move.
* * *
DADE RAKED HIS hand through his hair. He’d seen the look in the festival worker’s eyes, and he hadn’t liked it. Thankfully, Carrie’s neighbor had been there to serve as a distraction until Dade could get things under control. The neighbor registered as a little odd, but Dade was grateful Samuel had been there to slow Nash down. Dade and Carrie went way back, and the thought of anything happening to her sat like a hot poker in his gut.
Seeing her shell-shocked and pale was like a physical punch, and his past shame roared to the surface. He hadn’t helped her in high school like he should’ve, but there was nothing stopping him now. Besides, she wasn’t thinking straight or she would’ve already come up with the idea of filing a complaint. Another reason leaving her alone wasn’t a good idea.
“My truck is parked this way.” He motioned toward the end of the alley.
She glanced at her sedan and then at him. “I don’t know, Dade. I’m tired. Part of me thinks I should just go home and try to forget this night ever happened.”
“This guy could harass a woman in the next town he’s in. We don’t know anything about his background or if the festival vetted him out before he was hired. He could have a record and he might escalate if we don’t nip this in the bud.”
Carrie stayed quiet, standing in the back alley. The thought of a man forcing himself on her hit Dade in a very dark place.
Finally, she nodded and took in a sharp breath. “You’re right. Let’s go.”
Dade ignored the fact that holding her hand felt different now. Of course it would—they weren’t nine-year-olds playing tag at school. Her hand was softer and more delicate, especially in comparison to his. He spent most of his time outdoors, first in the military and now on the family ranch, where he’d always been hands-on. His showed the long hours he spent in the elements. She didn’t seem to mind.
Electricity pulsed through him at the point of contact, but it couldn’t be more misplaced. She needed a friend, and the last thing he needed was another complication in his life. Besides, how many times had he vowed to explain himself to Carrie if he got the chance? Years had gone by and he hadn’t seen her. He’d been back for a few weeks now, and he’d come up with a million excuses for not telling her what he’d really want to say to her all those years ago when he’d been a jerk instead.
There were some wounds that ran so deep not even time could heal.
All the words Dade had wanted to say to Carrie since high school died on his tongue. Too many years had passed and, his own guilt aside, she might not want to think about what had happened anymore. Besides, she’d escaped an assault tonight and he could clearly see how rattled she was. This wasn’t a good time to bring up more pain.
“I completely forgot to ask what you were doing in the alley,” Carrie said, stretching her legs in his truck as she fastened her seat belt.
“Trying to stay away from the media while I picked up the bronze statue my family donates to the festival.” He turned the key in the ignition, and the engine hummed to life.
“Oh, right. The cattle run kicks the festival off.” Her shoulders were still