Something To Talk About

Randi Lee Jenkins came out of the bathroom at the Lone Dog Saloon, scrubbing her wet hands against the thighs of her jeans. She hated this place, and had it not been for her serious need to pee she wouldn’t have stepped foot in the honky-tonk.

Drunken cowboys and stale beer were not her idea of a good time. All she wanted was a long hot bath and to finish up her thesis. One more semester and she was through with nursing school. She’d be making some serious changes in her life when graduation day came.

She was almost out of the hellhole when she spotted him. Billy Purcell--her boyfriend--with Sally Moore perched in his lap.

Randi’s hands curled into fists as she watched Billy kiss Sally’s neck... as his hand rubbed her skinny thigh. Sally was giggling and turned in time to see Randi staring at them. She sent Randi a big toothy grin before grabbing Billy and shoving her tongue in his mouth.

Humiliation smacked Randi in the face as she turned around and rushed out the door before Billy could see her.

*

“Dirty, rotten, stinkin’, bastard,” Randi shouted as she swung the Louisville Slugger and connected to the front headlight of Billy’s prized four-by-four. Humiliation had quickly morphed into a rage that consumed her, wildfire quick.

She crawled on top of the hood, her eyes blurring with tears she refused to let fall. Crack! A long jagged line appeared down the center of the windshield. She raised her bat for another blow. “Wasted three years of my life on that low-down dog.” She’d known, deep down, that Billy was a pig. Hell, he’d spent the last two months on the couch complaining their mattress was too soft. She should have known what a huge fucking lie that had been. Between her job and school she’d brushed the thought aside, refusing to admit that Billy was no good for her.

The window gave way, shards of broken glass flying to the four winds. Jumping down from the hood she marched to the back of the truck, taking out both taillights and putting three serious dents in the tail gate. By this time a small crowd had gathered around the truck.

“Let him live in my home rent-free, eat more in a day than I do in a week.” She peppered the fire-engine red body with dents from front to back end.

“Here, girl. If you’re gonna do it, do it right!” Old Paul David cracked a toothless smile and tossed her his hunting knife.

Randi picked it up where it stuck in the ground and plunged it into one shiny black tire. “Let’s see ya get home now, you pig.” Systematically she slit all four tires. The truck lowered to the ground with a hiss.

She opened up the passenger door, taking the knife to the leather seats. She carved them in a criss-cross pattern, pulling out the filling as she went. Sitting in the cab, she brought her booted foot up and kicked the stereo until it was pushed so far in only an expert would be able to retrieve it.

Never, in all her twenty-four years, had Randi ever lost her temper this badly. Hell, she barely ever raised her voice. But this was the last straw. Between her job as a cashier at the local grocery store, the pressure of school, and her crappy personal life, something had to give; she just hadn’t known what. Well, now she did: she and Billy were through.

She bent low, ready to pull the carpets out when she was grabbed around the waist and hauled out of the truck. Randi dropped the knife and started kicking and flailing.

“Hold on there, Randi Lee. Ouch! Now, Goddammit, that hurt.”

Randi went limp at the familiar, deep voice. Great. Someone had called the law.

The adrenaline rush crashed, leaving Randi exhausted as she leaned into Jon Denton, Carter County, Texas’s Sheriff.

“Damn, sweetheart, you sure made a mess.” He turned her around in his arms, but kept her securely in his grasp.

His whiskey-brown eyes gleamed from under his Stetson. The corners of those gorgeous eyes crinkled as he smiled. “What did Billy do that has you out here destroying his truck?”

Before she could answer a howl rent the air as Billy ran up and surveyed the damage. Spinning around, his face as red as the paint job, he screamed, “You stupid bitch! What did ya do to my truck?”

Randi lunged, but Jon had her captured by the waist again before she could reach Billy and strangle his no-good, lying ass.

“Your truck! I pay for that truck. It’s in my name.”

Billy looked back at Jon. “I wanna press charges. Destruction of property, assault and being a royal bitch.”

“You stupid asshole, it’s my property! If I wanna destroy it, I damn well will.” Randi felt a rush of bitter satisfaction when Billy’s face went from red to purple with rage. She smiled and finished, “Let Sally drive you home.”

A hush fell over the crowd as Billy gaped like a fish out of water. Damn. How on earth had she ever thought he was good looking? He looked like a landed trout. Before she could even begin to gloat, though, the crowd parted and Sally stepped through. She looped her arm around Billy’s neck and wrapped her skinny body around him like a vine. He smiled and kissed the little redhead, grabbing her ass and using a lot of very obvious tongue. Randi wanted to gag. “Maybe I will, Randi Lee. At least she doesn’t just lie in bed like a cold fish when we’re doin’ it.”

Several murmurs passed around the crowd, and Sally gave her a malicious smile. Randi flushed from head to toe at the insult, but she’d be dammed if she let him get the last word.

“Yeah, well, maybe she can get off on a little Vienna sausage!” She held up her pinky meaningfully and let it droop.

Billy’s face went purple again and he lunged.

*

Aw, fuck. Jon dropped Randi Lee and stepped into Billy’s charge. The other man was every bit as tall as Jon, but he was skinny and flabby, and lost his breath in a loud whoosh as his solar plexus connected with Jon’s shoulder, which he’d lowered into Billy’s charge.

The drunken idiot hit the ground gasping and whimpering about police brutality, with Sally Moore egging him on. Jon rolled his eyes and moved back to Randi Lee’s side.

“All right folks, show’s over. Get on back inside.” He raised a brow and let his gaze go hard on the crowd when no one moved. “Now,” he said, and while he kept his voice even and almost pleasant, there was something in his tone that sent the bar crowd scuttling back to their drinks.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asked, tipping up her chin with one finger. Her tear-streaked face punched a hole in his gut. Everyone in Carter County knew what Billy was doing behind her back, but no one had the guts to tell her. Even him. He wrapped his arm around her waist as she leaned into him and cried.

He walked them to his patrol car, opened the door and set her in the front seat. “Don’t you move, sweetheart,” he told her. He slipped the seatbelt around her, locking her in, before closing the door.

He walked back to Billy and Sally. The younger man was screaming. “Why ain’t she in handcuffs, Sheriff?”

Jon folded his arms across his chest. “She’s not the one who tried to get physical.”

“She got physical with my damn truck,” the other man screeched.

“Billy you best get home and pack up your stuff. I’ll keep Randi Lee away tonight, but I suggest you be gone by morning.”

“Me gone? She’s the one who done lost her damn mind. Look at my truck. If you don’t do something, I’m gonna report you to the state police.”

Jon remained calm; he’d dealt with his share of drunks and Billy was no different.

“Let’s not make this any worse than it already is, Billy. I think you’ve done enough to Randi Lee. It’s time for you to move on.”

Billy stepped up into Jon’s face, his finger pointing at Jon’s chest, “You better do your job, Sheriff, and take that bitch to jail.”

Before Billy could utter another word, Jon had him up against the truck with his arm behind his back.

“You listen here, Billy Purcell. Everyone in town knows what a drunken dog you are. Don’t mess with me, boy, or I’ll haul your ass to jail for assaulting an officer. I’m giving you tonight to get out of Randi Lee’s place. You’re still there in the morning, I’ll be taking you to jail.” He pulled back a little and looked Billy in the eye. “You’re pretty enough. I give it twenty-four hours before you’re someone’s bitch.” He released Billy in disgust, turned his back on him, and stalked to the patrol car.

He would take Randi back to his place. That was the only way he could guarantee she’d be safe and stay put.

Yeah, right. Jon rolled his eyes at himself. Like he hadn’t been looking for a way to get Randi Lee Jenkins in his clutches for the last however many years. Flipping open his phone, he dialed his home number. Wyatt picked up on the third ring.

“You’re late, Sheriff.” Wyatt’s low drawl never failed to tickle the nerves at the base of Jon’s spine.

“There was a little dust-up at the Lone Dog and we got company tonight,” he told the other man, and was rewarded with Wyatt’s chuckle.

“Well, hell, Jon. When isn’t there a dust up at that dive? So, who’re we rescuing tonight?”

Jon took a deep breath, uncharacteristically nervous about his lover’s response.

“Randi Lee finally caught Billy with his hands where they shouldn’t be and tore up the bastard’s truck. He’s out for blood, and she’s a wreck. She isn’t going back home tonight.”

The other end was quiet for a full minute. “Do you think it’s a good idea to bring her here, Jon?”

Jon sighed. “Probably not, but Wy, I can’t let her be alone tonight.”

“No, I guess not,” Wyatt said slowly. Jon could all but hear the wheels turning in his head. “Okay, bring her home.”

The line went dead, and Jon smiled. Wyatt might not have patience for social conventions, but damn if the man didn’t make up for it by being patient in other areas. Jon took off his hat as he climbed into the driver’s seat of his cruiser.

“You taking me to jail now?” Randi asked. Her nose was red and her face puffy and all Jon wanted to do was lean over and kiss her.

“No, sweetheart. I’m taking you to my place. I told Billy he had to be out by morning.”

“Will Wyatt mind?”

Jon reached over, enfolding her hand in his. “Wyatt’s fine with it, Randi Lee.” Jon grimaced. If only she knew how fine Wyatt really was with it, she might run in the opposite direction.

He radioed the station that he was done for the night and that the situation at the bar was taken care of.

Randi Lee Jenkins had been starring in his fantasies pretty much since the first time he saw her, and he knew she’d been starring in Wyatt’s even longer. Wy had gone to school with her, been her friend long before he and Jon met during their stint in the Army. He’d mentioned her to Jon more than once when they’d talked about bringing a woman into their relationship; described her as sweet and sassy, and more than woman enough to take on two stubborn cusses like them, until Jon had been half in love with her before he’d even met her.

When he and Wyatt had come to Carter County, to Wy’s hometown, to settle down and Jon met Randi Lee for himself, he’d been hooked. She was everything Wyatt had said and more. Sweet and funny and with curves to die for, she also had a touch of vulnerability in her eyes that made Jon want to wrap her up in cotton and take care of her.

Those fantasies he and Wy shared about having a woman to love, having a family together, those fantasies had settled solidly on Randi Lee Jenkins, but she’d been all but living with that waste of skin Billy Purcell before they had the chance to make a move.

Now she was free, and damned if Jon was gonna let her get away again.

*

Randi sneaked a glance at Jon Denton from the corner of her eye. The Sheriff was a walking wet dream, tall and lean with those wicked whiskey eyes. But, hell, so was Wyatt, for that matter. The fact the two men were live-in lovers only made them that much hotter, in Randi’s opinion. A cop and a cowboy. Every woman’s fantasy to be sandwiched between the two hottest men in Carter County.

She blew out a deep breath as she concentrated on looking out the window. The pastures blurred by in the evening light. The sight was always beautiful, but a constant reminder of how trapped she was in this small town. A place where everyone knew everything, and no one had bothered to tell her that Billy was double dipping.

“So how long has everyone known?” She watched Jon flinch.

“Randi Lee, that’s not important.”

“The hell it isn’t. How long have I been a fool, Jon?” Tears filled her eyes again, and she determinedly sniffed them back. “How long have you known?” she whispered.

Jon stopped the patrol car in the middle of the road. He turned to face her and reached out to cup her cheek.

“Oh, sweetheart, that isn’t important anymore.”

“Yes, it is. I need to know how long people have been thinking I’m pathetic.”

“No one thinks you’re pathetic,” he insisted. Randi just stared him down.

“Dammit, Randi Lee, I guess about six months now.”

Randi’s hand covered her mouth to stifle her sob. “Oh God.” Tears fell hard now as her stomach clenched. She’d been the fool of the county for that long? She knew how the gossips were. She imagined the glee they took in talking about how sad it was. Billy out carousing, and silly little Randi Lee stuck working and paying his bills. She was an idiot, a foolish, stupid woman who had stayed with a loser. In her head, the whispers got worse. But then, what do you expect? Look at her mama and daddy ... the Jenkins’ were doomed to heartbreak and scandal, no doubt about it. She felt sick to her stomach, embarrassed beyond belief. She felt like the star of one of those pathetic country songs that Billy loved so much.

Randi had always considered herself a smart woman, and deep down she’d known what Billy was really like. She’d like to pretend otherwise, but she couldn’t blame anyone but herself.

How many talk shows and magazine articles had she read about women staying with losers? How many times had she rolled her eyes at them, when all the while she was doing the same damned thing? And why? When Randi thought about it, she realized that she’d been afraid. Afraid of being alone, afraid of leaving her childhood home, afraid of life. Billy was a convenient excuse for her not to change the things about herself she didn’t like.

Well not anymore. Change was being thrust upon her, and she was gonna embrace it, ready or not.

Jon remained quiet the rest of the ride to his ranch house, and Randi was thankful. She didn’t feel up to making polite conversation.

He pulled into the drive and parked the car, and Randi took a deep, calming breath and looked around. It was Wyatt’s house. He and Jon had moved in shortly after Wy’s mama had moved to Florida three years ago. It was a nice place, had probably even been pretty back when Wy’s mama had kept up the flowerbeds lining the front porch.

Jon was out of the cruiser now and opening her door. She took his hand and let him tug her out of the car.

“C’mon, sweetheart. Let’s get you settled.”

Just the warmth in his voice was enough to start calming her down. Randi obediently followed him up the stairs and into the house.

*

After showing her into the bathroom so she could clean up, Jon went into the den and poured himself a shot of whiskey.

“Hey, pour me one too.” The soft masculine voice brought a small smile to Jon’s face. Wyatt made his way over, taking the shot glass that was full and downing it in one swallow.

“How’s she doin’?” he asked. Genuine concern was etched on his handsome face.

“She’ll be okay, I suspect. Randi Lee’s a tough little lady. It’s Billy I’d like to kill.” He shook his head and tossed back his drink. “Stupid little prick, foolin’ around when he had that at home. He doesn’t deserve her.”

“Did you kick his ass?” Wyatt asked, placing his hand on the back on Jon’s neck and tugging him down until their lips were grazing.

“Knocked him down,” he admitted with a grin. “Asshole didn’t give me reason enough to do any real damage.” Wyatt laughed, and it shivered down Jon’s spine. Because he couldn’t resist, he pressed a rough kiss on Wyatt’s mouth.

“Wish I’d been there,” Wyatt muttered when they parted. “I’m not the law. I don’t need a reason to kick his scrawny ass.”

“Then I’d have a reason to put you in handcuffs,” Jon agreed with a leer, and Wyatt laughed again.

Five years as a couple, and two more before that as friends, and Wyatt’s laugh still went straight to his dick.

Both men turned at the sound of Randi’s boots hitting the hard-wood floor She sidled up to the bar and climbed onto a stool. Jon tried to hide a smile. She wasn’t tall, but she sure packed a wallop.

“Mind pouring me one of those?”

Jon grabbed a third glass, but only filled it half-way. He didn’t want her drunk tonight. He wanted her to understand exactly what he and Wyatt were going to tell her.

*

Randi looked at both men, so opposite each other, yet both as yummy as hell. Jon was at least six-three, long and lean with short, silky dark brown hair and those sexy light brown eyes. Wyatt was about three inches shorter and built broader, his thighs thick as tree trunks from rodeo riding. His light blue eyes and streaky, overly long golden hair, coupled with his perfect bone structure, should have made him pretty. Pretty hot is what it made him. And utterly masculine. She squirmed a little in her chair as the whiskey, among other things, made her belly warm.

“How do you two do it?” she wondered aloud.

“How do we do what, sweetheart?” Jon smiled.

“Stay together for so long. Stay happy with each other? How did you two know that it was right?”

Jon and Wyatt shared a long look before Jon moved to sit beside Randi.

“Well, you feel it in here,” he said, taking her hand and placing it on his chest. His heat beat strong and steady against her palm. The heat of his touch felt disturbingly good against her palm.

“Oh, what the hell does that mean?” she muttered, pulling away from him before she gave in to the temptation to wriggle her fingers between the snaps of his shirt, looking for skin.

Wyatt leaned back against the bar on her other side, so she was sandwiched in warmth.

“What it means for me,” he said softly, “is that I like who I am when I’m with Jon. And when I think about the future, he’s there. I can’t picture a life without him in it.”

Wyatt’s words wrapped around Randi’s heart and squeezed. The idea that someone could feel that way about her seemed so foreign, so out of reach. She felt her eyes fill again.

Jon ducked around her and cuffed Wyatt on the back of the head. “You’re such a girl sometimes,” he teased, but Randi caught a glimmer in his eyes that matched the one in her own.

“I didn’t hear you complaining last night,” Wyatt murmured, and Randi just knew she went red from head to toe. What she didn’t know was whether it was from embarrassment at their blatant flirting, or arousal at the thought of them together.

“Come on sweetheart, let’s go sit on the couch. You look whipped.” Jon said, sending a quick and naughty grin in Wyatt’s direction. Randi let him lead her to the couch, and even leaned into him a little when he sank down next to her on the supple leather. Wyatt dropped into the chair across from them, propping one ankle over the other knee.

Randi’s eyes were dry now, but the scene outside the bar kept playing in her head, “Why didn’t anyone tell me? Why didn’t either of you tell me?”

Wyatt shifted forward and propped his elbows on his knees.

“We should have,” he admitted. “Truth is, there is no good excuse why no one did. We’d heard the rumors, but never saw him actually do anything.”

“Wyatt, we’ve been friendly since high school. You could have come to me.” Randi watched his face redden at her condemnation. “You should have come to me. I looked like a fool out there tonight.” Swallowing back the lump in her throat, she sat back, crossing her arms over her chest. She didn’t know what to do with herself.

“Sweetheart, once you mentioned his, er, Vienna Sausage,” Jon imitated her limp pinky gesture and Wyatt choked back laughter, “wasn’t nobody looking like a fool but little Billy.” Randi groaned and covered her face with her hands. “He won’t be there when you go back tomorrow,” Jon assured her. “The spare room’s yours as long as you want it. Or you can...” Wyatt cut Jon a look, stopping him from going further.

“Or I can what?” she asked. Waiting as both men looked at each other, then back to her. Jon moved closer to her, his thigh touching hers, his arm sliding along the back of the couch. “Or you can sleep with us.”

“What?” Randi shot off the couch, moving away from both men. “You’re gay.”