Page 11 of Reckless Skye

‘Maybe not. But those hands …’ He picked up her hand gently by the wrist, turned it over to show Skye her own palm. The calluses were there, but still new and raw. ‘Those are city girl hands trying to adapt to rough living for the first time.’

It was the oddest thing, to be touched gently by a man, especially by a stranger. Skye felt it resonate all through her body, from her toes, which curled in her boots, to the base of her neck, where the fine hair pulled upright in gooseflesh.

Disconcerted, Skye tugged her hand back. ‘You got me,’ she said. ‘I’m a city girl.’

TJ had watched her pull up in her clapped-out Ford, the trailer behind her barely roadworthy, and he’d stopped what he was doing to go and see to his parents’ guest. Only, when he’d rounded her truck, he’d been greeted by a perfect ass, bent in his direction, and not even that, not even a woman in tight denim, could have prepared him for the moment when Skye had turned and looked at him with those knockout baby blues.

Still, despite the slap of lust through his well-honed system, he’d sensed that instant wariness in her. She’d hidden it well, but he’d felt it in the way she couldn’t hold his gaze for long and could barely stand to touch his hand. She reminded him of a Mustang, corralled for the first time. Wildness and fear, contained. Barely.

He’d picked up her hand to make his point about her being a city girl, but right before she curled her fingers into a fist and politely tugged herself free, he’d seen her crooked ring and middle fingers, which could only have come from broken bones that hadn’t been set and splinted right.

‘You got me,’ she said, blatantly ending the interaction. ‘I’m a city girl.’

TJ should have let it lie, so he had no idea why he asked, ‘What’s a city girl like you doing in a near-dead F150, towing a cow horse across country? Doesn’t seem too smart.’

Skye tucked her hand into her pocket, almost as if she knew that he was tempted to touch her again. ‘I promise you, the city is far more dangerous than most of the back roads you’ve travelled.’

Her reply was a clear deflection, and although he didn’t push, he wondered about that as he slid open the barn door and stepped inside. ‘We have six of our own horses here …’ He trailed off when he noticed that Skye hadn’t followed him in. Instead, she stood just outside the barn with her horse, looking in at him, poorly veiled suspicion on her face.

When TJ backtracked to where she stood, her eyes followed his every movement. Warning signals fired.

‘You okay?’

‘Yeah.’ Her voice was tight. ‘I, ah – I might put her away in a bit. Let her walk around a little first.’

She didn’t even take one step inside the barn, and though he had never had a woman fear him before, TJ somehow knew that was what was holding her back.

He stepped completely out of the barn. ‘Why don’t you go take a look? I put you in the last stall on the right. I’ll go fetch your hay net and feed out the trailer.’ He didn’t wait for her to reply, merely turned on his heel and walked back in the direction they’d come from, giving her space to explore the barn alone.

At the trailer, his dad was already lifting the hay net out. ‘Thanks for seeing to her, TJ.’

TJ took the net, but he didn’t move back towards the barn with it. When his dad looked at him, his eyebrows raised, TJ explained, ‘She’s scared of me. I’m gonna wait until she comes back out.’

‘What did you do?’

‘Nothing. I haven’t even hit on her. Yet.’ Because he would, even if it was just to get a genuine smile out of her.

His dad wheezed on a rusty laugh. ‘One of those girls is gonna bite you on the ass eventually, and I cannot wait to see which one.’

‘Counting on it,’ TJ shot back.

His dad shook his head, but his eyes tracked to the barn. ‘Sheri said she’s good people.’

‘Yeah. But Sheri also gave an escaped convict a ride through Texas once,’ TJ reminded him. ‘Only one way to find out what her story is.’ Because he’d be damned if some pretty pixie with restless hands and witch’s eyes brought trouble to his parents.

‘Don’t pry, TJ.’

TJ cocked one hip as he settled in to argue. ‘I’m not gonna pry. I’m gonna ask outright. I leave on Monday. I can’t go if she’s brought trouble.’

‘You worry too much. I’m sixty-two and fit as a fiddle. I can hold my own.’

‘I’d prefer not to test that theory, old man.’

His dad flipped him the bird, said, ‘Go ride a cow!’ – their family way of saying, Fuck off.

TJ just grinned. But because he hadn’t torn his eyes from the barn, he saw when Skye came back out without her horse. He picked up the hay net in one hand, the bag of horse feed in the other. ‘I’ll take her feed in. If you want to show her to Mom, maybe she’ll get it out of her.’

‘Yeah,’ his dad ceded. ‘Your mom could make a clam sing.’