Jackie Draws A Straight: The Journey Series Book 5 Read online

  Since then, she'd been out with her college friends at clubs in Austin during the school term, and she'd found she had a taste for bourbon. She intended to have a couple of shots in the bar before ordering her dinner and enjoying some fajitas.

  The tavern was beginning to get busy when she strolled into the dark, cool interior. The local ranchers tended to knock off work a little early on Friday nights and make for the only watering hole in town for a bit of fun and a good meal.

  It was exactly as she remembered it—Sonora was always so reliable that way. The highly polished wooden bar spread out on the left of the big room, with gleaming brass rails picking up the light from the neon beer signs along the walls. The smell of beer was strong, with a tiny, acrid odor of leftover cigarette smoke, though smoking in the place had been forbidden for a while.

  Jackie walked by the round wooden tables and lightly padded chairs, and bellied up to the bar a seat away from a middle-aged couple nursing Coronas.

  The bartender, an older man with heavy jowls but a friendly smile came right over. "I'm Wally, welcome to Carlos'. What can I get you, Miss?"

  She remembered him from her birthday, but didn't remind him of their last meeting. "Jack Daniels, straight up, with a chaser of ginger ale."

  He nodded and asked her for ID. She was ready for him, her identification in hand. After examining the birthdate on her license carefully, Wally nodded and handed it back. It only took him a minute to pour her beverages and set them down in front of her on the age-scarred bar.

  There was country music playing on the jukebox, and Jackie recognized a song she liked. She smiled a bit before she knocked back the Jack and took a quick sip of her ginger ale.

  A shiver raced through her middle, followed by a sense of muscles relaxing slightly. She adjusted her seat on the barstool and reached for a menu. As she was trying to decide among the fajita choices, there was a raucous commotion from the doorway.

  She glanced over her shoulder and immediately recognized the four men who had entered. They were ranch-hands, from the Bar-O, Rafael Ramirez's spread on the other side of town. Jackie had gone to school with three of them, and had dated the pack leader, Bud "The Stud" Ramirez, Rafael's son, while in high school. God what a fiasco that had been.

  They weren't interested in her as their eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, but when Bud saw her, his smile was feral. He pointed and the group laughed and nudged each other.

  Bud nodded toward the jukebox, and he and his friends went to it and started feeding in quarters. Jackie released a small breath of relief. Apparently, Bud had better things to do than pay attention to her.

  One song ended and another began. "Good Girls Go to Heaven," by Brooks & Dunn started with a guitar riff and Jackie ordered another shot.

  "On me," said Bud from behind her.

  She'd never forget that voice. Smooth as silk, deep and sexy as sin. Unfortunately, Bud was a bully of the first order and all that was good about him was his voice.

  "No, thanks," she replied immediately, not turning toward him. Maybe if she didn't pay him mind he'd go away. She tensed as she realized she wouldn't be that lucky. He scooted into the space between where she sat and the next barstool to her left.

  Leaning his arm against the bar, he regarded her slowly, his eyes traveling over her from the top of her head to the length of her denim-clad thigh on the barstool. "Come on, Jackie. For old time's sake."

  "I don't want anythin' from you, Bud. Not a shot of bourbon or your time. Why don't you go sit with Matt and whoever else those guys are and leave me alone?"

  The bourbon was set before her and Wally eyed Bud for a moment.

  "The usual," Bud told him succinctly, and Wally moved off toward the tequila selection. "I ain't seen you in town lately, Jackie. You finally finished up with that fancy college up north?"

  She ignored him. It was rude but she really didn't want to open up that old wound.

  He sung softly, like a dark angel, to the refrain of the song. "Good girls go to heaven, bad girls go anywhere."

  Jackie shot her bourbon and tried to pretend he wasn't there. She knew why he'd picked that song and his scorn bit her like a viper.

  Bud's tequila arrived and he made short shrift of the salt, lime and golden liquor, then turned back to her. "You still got it, Jackie-honey? Or did you find someone to give it to, finally? Someone better'n me, in your high-and-mighty estimation?"

  Finally, she turned her head to look in his dark eyes. "Ain't none of your business, Bud. And it wouldn't take much to be better than you."

  He laughed. "Holy shit! You still got it! What a prick-tease you are, Jackie."

  She glared. They'd grown up together, but didn't have the same interests as kids. He was a jock, and she was more interested in clothes and movies. High school had been an eye-opener, though. She hadn't realized what flirting meant. She'd been trying out different ways to get a boy's attention like any girl would do. When the captain of both the football and baseball teams asked her out, of course she'd agreed. She knew Bud had a reputation among the girls, but he'd asked her and her ego couldn't resist accepting. Right away, she knew it was a mistake; he put a lot of pressure on her to have sex. She kept saying no, but he got more and more insistent and belligerent as they dated. Why she'd stuck with him so long, she didn't rightly know. Maybe she'd believed he'd learn to respect her over time. Maybe she wanted to one-up the other girls by having Bud "The Stud" panting after her. Her motives hadn't been noble, and she wasn't proud of them, but she'd been a teenager and hadn't known any better.

  Prom night was a huge disaster. She'd had to call her father to come get her from the lake after Bud had left her there alone after the dance. She'd said no to him for the final time and he'd dumped her out of his pickup truck and drove away. There she was in her fancy, taffeta prom dress, dirty from falling on her knees from the truck, and both mad and tearful when Leo Journey showed up.

  He'd given her a stern look and then helped her up into his truck in his usual taciturn way. She explained what happened and he'd listened without interrupting, his knuckles getting whiter on the steering wheel as she talked.

  "I tole you he was a shit, Jackie," he'd reminded her.

  "I know, Daddy. I'm sorry I didn't listen."

  "You got away lucky this time."

  "Yes, sir."

  He shot her a frowning look, but his voice said a lot more. "I'm proud of you for stickin' to your guns, l'il girl."

  As she dried her eyes a warm sense of comfort stole over her. Her daddy was proud of her. She'd done the right thing.

  Now, four years later, she was confronted with her own bad behavior and Bud's derision for the decisions she'd made late in the game. Some poor choices never quite let go.

  Jackie turned away from Bud again. "I ain't got nothin' to say to you, Bud."

  His voice was right at her ear when he spoke next. "It's mine, you know, Jackie-honey. You just been waitin' for the right moment to give it to me. Bet you regret that you didn't do it sooner and so now you're feelin' like you gotta make a show of it."

  She shied away from him, rubbing her ear, trying to get the smell of him out of her hair on that side. "Fuck off, Bud. I mean it."

  He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Aw come on now, Jackie. You don't need to be coy with The Stud here."

  She bristled and tried to pull away. The warm buzz of the bourbon had turned to acid in her stomach. Bud hummed a new song in her ear and she wanted to throw up.

  Maybe, if she handled this right, she could get away from him without a fight. He was a lot bigger than she was and if it came down to a physical altercation, she wouldn't put it past him to slap her silly. Thinking quickly, she made herself relax in his arms, melting against him.

  "You're right, Bud. I been reluctant to admit it."

  "There ya go, sweetheart. I understand. Gimme a kiss and come over and sit with me and the boys. After I have a little Cuervo, we can go have us a good time."

  "I need to u
se the bathroom, Bud. Then I'll come sit with y'all."

  He pulled away only long enough to move a big hand to the back of her head and yank her toward his face for the promised kiss. Her gorge rose dangerously, but she broke free in time to hold herself together. She couldn't force another smile, though; she could barely resist rubbing the back of her hand across her lips.

  "Okay. Don't dawdle, now, or touch yourself down there. That's my territory now."

  Jackie shuddered and scooted off the barstool. As she walked away, she heard him hooting with his friends at the table. Once he was seated, she quickly turned and walked as fast as she could toward the door. She hoped to race by him before he had a chance to stand and snag her back.

  Bud shouted behind her as she made it to the door. She thought she'd escaped, but he caught her by the arm and pulled her back. Pete Kaminsky strode toward them from the dark interior of the taproom. How long had Pete been in the bar? If he'd seen Bud kissing her… Jackie was trying to think of a new way to get rid of Bud, attempting to yank her arm away without causing too much of a ruckus.

  "Jackie," Pete said, eyeing Bud and beginning to frown. Bud tugged harshly on her arm.

  "Pete!" She turned back to Bud. "Damn it, Bud, go back to your boys!"

  Pete's voice held concern and a touch of impatience. "Is something wrong?"

  Bud pulled Jackie up against his side and turned toward the taller man. "Well," he said, his drawl thick. "If it ain't the new doc in town."

  Pete nodded. "I think the lady wants to go."

  Bud laughed and kissed the side of Jackie's face though she was trying to shove him away. "Aw, you got it all wrong, Doc. This is a lover's quarrel. Ain't no big deal. Jackie and me, we go back a long ways." He took Jackie's chin in hand and turned her face toward him. His eyes glittered dangerously. "Don't we, sweetheart?"

  "Let me go, Bud," she said, her breath coming in panicked pants. "Let me go now or I'll start screamin' the place down."

  "You heard her, Mister," Pete said, taking a step toward them. "I don't much care if she's your girl or your sister, she wants you to let go, so you do it."

  Bud hesitated, eyeing the other man, sizing him up.

  "You gonna make me?"

  Pete nodded, his face grim. "If I have to."

  "Huh." Bud let her go and gave her a little shake as he did. "You get over your mad, girl, and we'll talk this over later. You got a present for me."

  Jackie rubbed her upper arms, wondering if there'd be bruises there later. "Go to hell."

  Bud laughed again, but it sounded harsh and forced. He gave Pete a wink. "She'll learn her place."

  "You shit!" Jackie launched herself at him, fists flying. Bud easily subdued her, but it was Pete who pulled her off.

  "Stop it now," he told her firmly. To Bud he said, "Best leave her alone."

  "Yeah. I got better things to do. She's a frigid bitch anyway." With a last caustic look at Jackie, Bud turned on his booted foot and went back to the table where his friends all greeted him with low voices.

  Pete let Jackie go and her face flamed. "I…"

  He pushed dark hair back from his forehead and eyed her for a moment. "None of my business, Miss Journey. Now if you'll excuse me, I was about to have a little supper."

  She put her hand on his arm as he stepped toward the tables. "Wait. I want to explain."

  His frown was immediate. "Have you been drinking?"

  Another flush stole over her face. Maybe if she hadn't had the bourbon she'd have had better luck getting rid of Bud. "Only two shots."

  "In a woman your size," he said sternly, "that's enough to get you arrested if you get behind the wheel." Jackie's arm was sore where he took it and she winced. Without hesitation, he let her go. "I'll drive you."

  "I can drive."

  "No, you can't. Are you drunk?"

  "No! Journey's End is clear the other side of the county, Pete. You'll be near two hours getting back."

  He sighed. "Yeah, but I can't let you go on your own and your boyfriend is drinking, too. Come on."

  "I hate Bud Ramirez," she spat, enjoying the tiny cathartic feeling she had admitting her feelings aloud. The furor in her chest subsided a bit. "My Daddy will be fit to be tied if you bring me home 'cause I been drinkin'."

  "And he should be," he told her. For a moment, he paused. "I'll take you home to my place. You can sober up and then I'll bring you back for your car."

  Jackie wanted to spend more time with Pete. He made her feel cared for. Working with him over the past week had grown her respect for him. He was appealing on so many levels. Sure, she'd been drinking, but not too much. Her faculties weren't impaired. That wouldn't stop the sheriff, though, if she got pulled over. At five feet one, you drink cautiously and with food. That had been her intention, but things had gotten away from her. Going to Pete's house would be a lot better than going to Journey's End and facing her father or Ace.

  "Yes, please."

  He nodded and took her hand. "Let's go."

  The office and house were about half an hour outside of the edge of town, and they drove in silence. Pete opened the car door for her and led the way into his house. Most of the boxes had been cleared away from his living room and a few colorful pillows had been added to the blue and yellow sofa.

  "Sit. I'll bring some food. It won't be much though. I think all I have are hard-boiled eggs and maybe some pickles. That's why I was going to eat in town."

  Jackie sat on the sofa and pulled a pillow into her lap, cuddling it up against her abdomen. She was trying not to look Pete in the eyes as she knew she'd blush furiously if she did. The debacle in the bar had been so embarrassing. "Eggs 'n pickles will be fine. Thank you."

  He turned toward the kitchen without another word.

  After a few minutes, he returned with a plate of deviled eggs and a couple of bottles of water. They ate without talking.

  "I'm sorry about this," Jackie said as Pete wiped his face with a napkin and relaxed back away from the empty plate.

  "You don't need to explain. Your private life is none of my business."

  "It ain't my private life," she said. She needed to explain about Bud. Pete must have all wrong-headed notions about what was between her and the rancher. "Bud is someone I knew from high school. That's all."

  "Yeah. Okay." The tightness around his eyes and mouth clearly said he didn't believe her. "So we have a few hours to kill. You want to watch a movie?"

  Jackie miserably groped for a way to convince him about Bud but she knew the man's familiar attitude and the fact that she hadn't kicked him in the nuts made the whole situation look suspiciously like the lover's quarrel Bud had claimed. "Really. He's nothin' to me."

  "So you say now." He rose and moved the plate into the kitchen. When he returned, he had a deck of cards.

  She started to try to convince him again. "Please, Pete-"

  He held up a hand to stay her argument. "No more. I don't want details, thanks. Do you know how to play gin rummy?"

  Sighing with resignation, Jackie nodded and they began to play.

  * * *

  Pete watched her, her legs curled up under her as she stared hard at the cards in her hand. She looked at him and smiled and Pete's unhappiness was complete. She was so beautiful, so full of life. It was no wonder she had a boyfriend in town. Jackie Journey could have any man she chose. Why she'd chosen Bud Ramirez, he didn't know, but you never could tell what a woman was thinking or what attracted two people together.

  He tried to tease out the reasons he was attracted to Jackie so strongly and came up with a laundry list, but none of the items on his list told the deeper story. What did it matter, anyway? She belonged to someone else, a younger man with a heritage she could be comfortable with. He was a rancher and so were her folks. She said she'd gone to school with Bud and that kind of history together was compelling. Pete needed to kill his emotions where Jackie was concerned and move on.

  Even the cards weren't going his way. She won hand after
hand, beating him three games in a row rapidly. He began to get suspicious when she quickly took the lead in the fourth game. To his casual observation, it looked like she was shuffling and dealing the cards the same as any other person, but on careful examination, he realized she was cheating. The little minx had marked the cards with a thumbnail and was stacking the deck with careful shuffles, keeping the melds together. Damn, she was good at it too.

  He reached out and took the deck from her hands as she made to shuffle again. "That's about enough of that, young lady."

  Frowning, she tried to take the deck back. He held it away from her. "Enough of what?"

  "You're cheating."

  "I am not!"

  "You are. Don't lie and compound it."

  Her eyes narrowed and, after a moment, dropped toward her lap. "Sorry. I hate losing."

  "You amaze me, Miss Journey."

  Pink suffused her cheeks. "Are you very mad at me?"

  Irked was a better description of how he felt. "You really are a naughty woman." Perfect brown eyes with long dark lashes looked up into his and Pete wanted to kiss her so badly that he had to look away. "I ought to spank you again."

  Her breath stilled for a moment. "Yes, you should."

  Frowning, he tried to comprehend what game she was playing. She had a boyfriend and yet it seemed like she wanted Pete's attention, even negative attention, in a very intimate way. Was she loose? Did she intend to cheat on Bud Ramirez? Was she using Pete to get back at her surly boyfriend? "Sometimes, I think you're goading me to spank you, Jackie. Why not turn to Bud if you want to be disciplined? Why me?"

  "Bud is not my boyfriend! He's not!" Her voice was strident, and Pete was on the verge of believing her. "Besides, he's crude and illiterate compared to you."

  If Pete had been inclined to believe her, the fact that she was making a comparison between the two of them strongly suggested to him that she was simply trying to raise her status with regard to men in her life. A doctor must be more prestigious among her friends. It pissed him off royally to think she'd used him like that. "You shouldn't be making those comparisons, Jackie. I'm not your lover or even vying for the position."