“Wyatt?”
That was definitely the voice from the voicemail. It skirted
up his neck like
silky fingers and made the tiny hairs stand on end. He
turned to face her. “I must
have just missed you—” The words halted with his brain. Cold
dead. He blinked,
afraid he might be too tired, and seeing things. “Are
you…Liberty?” He tried not
to sound incredulous.
“I am,” she replied as though nothing at all appeared out of
the ordinary.
She had a massive green duffle bag hooked over one shoulder.
His gaze traveled
down her long black leather trench coat, to the
triple-buckled motorcycle boots on
her feet. Admittedly, he had a moment, though very brief,
when he wondered what
she wore under that coat, but he ran like a man with his
hair on fire away from the
thought. And tried to unglue his tongue from the roof of his
mouth.
“My uh, name is Rein.” He chuckled and tried to cover it
with a cough as he
eyed her hair. Though dark like Wyatt and Dalton’s, it hung
loose and straight to
her shoulders. But it was the brilliant neon blue highlight
that streaked down one
side that he couldn’t stop staring at. Her deep brown
eyes—also a family trait—
regarded him with equal curiosity. A wig? He shook his head,
realizing he hadn’t
finished telling her his name. “Rein Mackenzie.”
Her dark brows pinched together and for a split second, he
saw the
resemblance to Dalton. Something he would never reveal to
him.
“Oh, you’re the guy Wyatt talked about. Jed’s nephew.” She
peered at him.
He figured that he had to look about as strange to her in
his conventional
cowboy wear, as she did to him. He reminded himself of that
as he pointed to
the truck and followed her. The folks back home were in for
quite a treat and
Halloween was months away.
“Here let me take that,” he offered and reached for her
duffle.
“Thanks.” She relinquished it to him. He did a double take
when he caught
the flash of silver on her tongue.
“Uh, are you hungry?” He squinted, trying to see when she
spoke, if
her tongue was really pierced. “It’s about an hour back to
the ranch. Probably
someplace near that’s open all night.” Preferably a
drive-through, though he kept
the thought to himself.
“That’d be great. I’m famished,” she said as she struggled
free of her coat.
Rein dropped her bag in the back of the truck and waited to
assist her into the cab.
His gaze fell to her backside bent over the front seat, and
what was left of her black
mini skirt and spandex leggings. She handled the look well,
given it appeared she
had legs a mile long. She stuffed her coat up into the cab
and jerked down her
black hoody sporting a faded Guns & Roses insignia
emblazoned across the back.
He caught a flash of skin above her waistband, just enough
to make him feel guilty
for wanting to see if she bore any tattoos. He’d bet money
that she had one, if
not more. First impression, she looked like the lead in an
R-rated vampire slayer
movie.
“Be careful. Watch your step.” He gave himself a mental slap
and hurried
forward to help her in the cab. She gingerly grabbed the bar
and hauled herself up
gracefully into the seat.
“Did you happen to get my text messages?”
“Nope, I’m afraid not.”
“Is there someone back home that needs to know you’re here?”
“No, there isn’t.” She narrowed her gaze on him. “Mr.
Mackenzie, in case
you hadn’t noticed, I’m not twelve years old.”
As if he needed to be reminded of the interest she sparked
in him. He
brushed it off as her eccentricity. “Right.” He shut the
door, fished for his iPhone,
and frantically texted Wyatt as he walked around to the
driver’s side. He wanted
to make damn sure they were awake when they arrived back at
the ranch. Going
to stop for a bite to eat, and then head home. He paused at
the door and rubbed
his hand over his mouth, a nervous habit when he found
himself perplexed by
something. With a sigh, he climbed into the truck and busied
himself with his seat.
“Who were you texting?” she queried.
“Wyatt. Just to let him know you were safe and sound.”
“He was worried? That’s so big brother of him.” She grinned.
“By the way,
my name is Liberty…Liberty Belle.”
Rein glanced at the young woman who looked tough enough to
spit nails.
“No last name, or is it Belle?” Her mascara-laden,
coffee-colored eyes met his. She
wore far too much in his opinion. But he had to give her
credit, while the overall
effect seemed a little dark…no…make that a lot dark, it was
oddly sexy on her.
Rein batted away the silly notion. What? Sexy? Where’d that
come from?
“No, Belle is my middle name, and also my stage name. Both
my parents
were in the business. My full name is Liberty Belle
Stenapolas.”
He toyed with pursuing the topic of her vocation, but
decided her brothers
should be the ones to delve into that first. He kept his
focus straight ahead and
swatted away the myriad of questions that kept popping up in
his brain.
“Hey, are you okay?” She leaned toward him and searched his
face. “Are
you sure you know how to get us out of here?”
Rein blinked, snapping out of his reverie. He started up his
truck and shifted
into gear. He knew easily how get them out of there with no
trouble. But more to
the point, what kind of trouble was he bringing home to Last
Hope Ranch?