Bounty (Colorado Mountain #7) Read online

  Again.

  Wait.

  Her first one?

  His eyes went to my hair then back to me. “Bad night, heard word, took off, nearly lost her,” he stated emotionlessly. “It’d be her third heart attack few years later that finally did her in but that first one shook me. Your hair. Those eyes. Knew I knew you from somewhere, musta blocked it because that night and the next however many fuckin’ sucked. Saw you today with your notebook. Came to me. Met you that night and you had a notebook almost like that. You were at a dude ranch. You don’t remember but we met.”

  “I do,” I told him quietly. “I just thought you didn’t.”

  He nodded, sussing it out immediately.

  Maybe.

  “So no Justice.”

  No, dammit.

  I didn’t give him Justice.

  I got closer. “Deke—”

  “I get it. Must be hard, bein’ you.”

  “There’s more to tell.”

  “Not really. Got a famous dad. Shit ton of money. Even more talent. He’s gone, don’t pay attention to that shit but still know the media feeds off anything just as long as it’s shitty. Go into a frenzy they got the shot to feed off your grief. Your brother bein’ an asshole, more fuel to that fire. You disappear in the mountains. I get it.”

  Actually, thankfully, the media had not yet locked onto what Mav was doing.

  I didn’t share that with Deke at that juncture.

  “It’s that and it’s other stuff, Deke,” I told him. “Can we go somewhere? Talk?”

  “’Bout what, Jus?” he asked. “I get it.”

  “The other stuff,” I repeated.

  “You don’t gotta give me what you don’t wanna give me. Got no call to own it. Don’t want that call. Made that clear so you know that.”

  At his words, I took a step back.

  He looked down at my feet then up at me.

  It was late. Dark. But Krystal and Tate didn’t mess around with lights in their parking lot.

  I saw his flinch before he hid it.

  He knew the barb he’d thrown stung and did that in a big way.

  We’d been dancing around the fact that I was at one place, he was in another and we both knew what one wanted and the other didn’t.

  That being me wanting him and Deke not wanting me back that same way.

  He’d pushed the boundaries back, gave me the friendly.

  But he’d done it never being a dick about establishing precisely what those boundaries were we’d never cross.

  Until now.

  “Jus—”

  “You look like you’re rarin’ to get home so I’ll let you do that,” I muttered, shifting to move away.

  Deke caught my forearm.

  I turned my eyes to his.

  “Jus,” he said softly, his hand putting on pressure like he wanted to bring me closer.

  I put pressure on the other way, slipping it out of his grip.

  “See you tomorrow, Deke.”

  I started to walk away.

  “Jus—”

  I turned back to him.

  “Sorry about your mom,” I said. “Hate that happened. I’m really sorry. Both parents gone, that sucks for you and I get that’s in a big way. But I hope you don’t take it wrong when I say it’s good to finally know why you stood me up.”

  Another flinch before, “Jussy—”

  I didn’t want to run. I didn’t want to make a bigger drama of it than it already was.

  So I just lifted a hand behind me in a wave good-bye, not looking at him, but I did walk really fast back to the bar.

  It took me a while, having to force smiles, stop and take a few photos, scribble my name on a few napkins, but I finally got to my purse at the bar.

  I muttered shit I didn’t remember to get out of talking to Krys, Lauren, Jim-Billy.

  Then I left, going to my truck.

  In all this, Deke did not come after me.

  And I would realize that I was now becoming addicted to the pain that came with less and less pleasure because I gave into that pain as I walked to my truck.

  This meaning I looked toward where Deke’s bike had been.

  Both the bike and Deke were gone.

  * * * * *

  Deke

  Jussy’s song “Chain Link” sounding out of his phone, Deke sat on the couch in his trailer and read online encyclopedia entries.

  She was right. There was other stuff to talk about.

  A lot of it.

  “Chain Link” wasn’t his normal thing. Shit like the Allman Brothers and the Foo Fighters were his normal thing.

  And Johnny Lonesome.

  But it was beautiful.

  Jussy’s voice singing her own song was better than her standing onstage in a biker bar belting out Linda Rondstadt, and she’d fucking killed that. Rondstadt had one of the best voices in the business. That sweet goodness that could pack a punch. Rise from that low right up the scale to hit high and not once lose its power.

  Jus had that.

  She had presence up there too. Her smile, Christ. It did a number on him sitting in her fucked-up house eating a sandwich.

  Onstage it was spectacular.

  Reading about her Deke saw he was not the only person who thought that.

  One album of her own, nominated for awards. A tour where the critics raved about her live performances. She wrote for the Blue Moon Gypsies and had more than a couple dozen other credits, including as a producer. Fuck, he even knew each of her songs the Gypsies performed because he might not listen to songs like “Chain Link” (and even if he didn’t, he still thought it was a fucking gorgeous song), he listened to the Gypsies, including their slower stuff, which was what Jussy did for them.

  She was out of his reach.

  He knew that the minute she’d walked into Bubba’s. He had not known that with the biker babe slumming she’d been doing with her girlfriends years ago in Wyoming, stepping into that role so completely, he didn’t get that first whiff she was what she was. But he knew from the first time he saw her in Carnal she was untouchable.

  Now he knew she wasn’t just untouchable, she was not even in his stratosphere.

  Even if Deke could get past the working for her barrier (and he couldn’t) then the money barrier (and he couldn’t with that either) then the rootless life barrier (and that also wasn’t going to happen), he couldn’t get past this.

  That said, that night he did it quiet, not outright ugly, but he still struck out, pissed for whatever reason he was, not wanting where those feelings came from to show, and he’d been a straight-up dick.

  She didn’t deserve that. She’d kept herself to herself, guarded for good reasons with the life she led, and he knew from the last couple of days she’d come to a place she was ready to share it with him.

  But the reasons she kept it to herself were good reasons. It wasn’t anyone’s to have until Jus decided to give it to them.

  He lifted his head from staring unseeing at his phone to staring unseeing at his trailer.

  Fuck, he had to get them back there. He had to do what he could to heal that hurt because, as whacked as it was, he still figured it hurt him to hurt her more than the hurt he gave her and he figured this because he was right then feeling that pain.

  But he gave her that hurt, he saw it, fucking hated it, so he had to do something about it.

  She meant something to him and she didn’t hide he was coming to mean something to her. He broke that so he had to mend it.

  He stared down at the phone in his hand as “Chain Link” shifted to another song that was Jussy’s.

  There was a photo on her online encyclopedia entry. She was at a mic, chin down and twisted, like she was looking at her guitar.

  And she was smiling in the way she always smiled. Big and out there and open. Like tonight onstage. Like sitting in her fucked-up house on drywall while they ate sandwiches.

  Big and out there and open.

  And so fucking gorgeous, it was almos
t hard to believe.

  Deke’d never know how that smile would change after he made her come. After he made her breakfast. After she climbed off the back of his bike when they were done with a ride.

  It’s good to finally know why you stood me up.

  These thoughts the only ones in his head, he didn’t think it before he did it but he did it and his phone was slicing through the air, slamming against the narrow wall by the tiny kitchenette.

  He worked construction and had that kind of life. He didn’t need much and part of what he didn’t need was to fuck up his phone so he had to buy a new one. This meant he had a protective case on it so it bounced right off the wall, the counter, to the floor without a scratch.

  But the screen had been touched in a way the music died.

  Jussy’s voice blinked right out.

  And right then, that worked for Deke.

  Chapter Eight

  Your Life, Your Choice

  Justice

  Since I had zero sleep the night before, I was up when the banging on the door came early.

  Six thirty.

  This did not bode good things.

  I went from closet, where I was trying to figure out what to wear, to bedroom, hall, great room and saw Deke was wearing a blue T-shirt that day.

  He didn’t wear white every day but he switched it up only occasionally.

  I hadn’t yet seen blue.

  But I had noted that army green did spectacular things to his hazel eyes.

  I had on a droopy cardigan over my pajamas.

  I did not care. They covered me up, mostly. Little floral print shorts with pompom edging. Flowy camisole that had some lace and another floral pattern that didn’t match but didn’t clash.

  Fake gypsy princess.

  Outed rock princess. Heiress to the kingdom, she’d abdicated her throne.

  And Deke now knew it all.

  Or most of it.

  Whatever.

  I opened the door, lifted my eyes to Deke only to cut a glance through him before I turned and started walking away but did it talking.

  “Hey. You’re early. Coffee isn’t started yet. I’ll hit that and then hit the shower.”

  “Jussy.”

  I carried on like he didn’t speak. Definitely carried on like he didn’t speak in that sweet, soft, remorseful tone that with one word, that word my name, did a number on me.

  “Four cups, doesn’t take it long to drip. But favor,” I turned and looked toward him, my gaze hitting his neck, not his eyes, “if you and Bubba drain it, make some more for me. When I get out of the shower, gonna need it.”

  “Jus, I’m here early to talk.”

  He’d come in, hitting the center of the space, to his right side was the low, round, stone fireplace that Deke had told me was going to have a long, narrow copper hood that would look awesome without obstructing too much of the view when they got it in. A fireplace that was in line with the front door and in line with the fire pit on the deck.

  Symmetry.

  My life had never had symmetry. It was a zigzag line that led me to there, a place I’d wanted to end the zigging and zagging.

  Now I suddenly wanted that back.

  “You were right last night,” I replied. “If you get it, and you said you did, there isn’t anything left to say.”

  He opened his mouth but I wasn’t done.

  “Except, what I’d guess you’d guess is that wasn’t the first time I hit a stage. I work in the business.”

  He nodded, doing it cautiously, and returned, “Know that, looked you up last night.”

  So very easy to find so very much on Justice Lonesome.

  He could read every word and have no clue.

  I nodded too, just once, not cautiously.

  “Right, then the only other thing left to say is that I was…well, we were in a weird place last night since I’d kept things from you. It’s cool you get it but just to explain, I knew you the minute I saw you.” I gave a one shoulder shrug. “It was kinda embarrassing you didn’t remember me, so I didn’t bring that up. But also, partially, it was about you being right with this gig also being me needing to be just Jus. A timeout from all the shit festering out there. And it’s also cool you’re down with giving that to me even though you didn’t know you were giving it to me. But all that said, last night I didn’t have it together enough to say but a few words about it so I’ll say now I’m really sorry for your loss. Your mom. I know what losing a parent feels like, not both, fortunately, but still. So I know there are no words to say except I’m sorry.”

  I stood my ground, continuing to talk even if I did it while he was moving toward me.

  He stopped way too close and I had to tilt my head back way too far in a way that made me feel small and vulnerable which, in a different world, feeling these around Deke would have special meaning.

  But in my world they didn’t.

  “Thank you, baby,” he said gently.

  I closed my eyes and when I opened them, I requested quietly and not ugly, “Please don’t call me that, Deke. I’m not your baby. I’m not even Jussy to you. I know what I am and I think for both our sakes, especially mine, a good way to move on from here is that we both keep it just like that.”

  There was a lot in his face, so different from the Deke I’d met years ago and the same man that came back into my life weeks ago. This being that he was showing it all to me, all of it good which meant all of it was bad.

  And worse, he lifted a hand and filtered it up in my hair from the neck, where he rested his palm.

  “Jussy—” he began.

  “Don’t,” I whispered. I felt the pads of his fingers press into my scalp so I whispered again, “Please don’t, Deke.”

  “Known you only weeks, babe, still know you’re one of the best women I’ve ever met so—”

  I cut him off before he could say I hope we can find a way to still be friends.

  That was what we’d do. I knew I couldn’t live without at least having that from Deke.

  But right now it hurt too much to be reminded, especially in his beautiful voice, that was all he wanted.

  And anyway, I didn’t need a reminder.

  I lived that knowledge day in and day out and it was lacerating my poet’s soul.

  “Please,” it came out trembling, and dammit, I felt my eyes get moist, “don’t.”

  It looked like it caused him pain to slide his hand out of my hair.

  I knew it caused me pain.

  But I was getting used to it.

  He stopped touching me but he bent his neck deep to get his face closer to mine even as he swayed in several inches so his big body was invading my space.

  “Bein’ that, Jussy, I want you to know it’d mean a lot to me if we can find a way to move on from here.”

  “We will,” I assured him. “You’re a good guy. Of course you get I think that so we’ll find a way. It’s just that right now I need some space.”

  “Not sure how to give you that, needin’ to be in your space to get work done for you, Jus, but I can say I’ll try.”

  “You don’t need to worry. I’m beginning to have walls. I’ll soon have floors. I need to look at paint chips and wooden spoons and shit. It’s time I got busy. And so…” I made an instant decision. “I’m gonna go to Denver and do some shopping. You’ve got a key. You and Bubba just do your thing. I’ll be back on Monday.”

  “That’s a good idea.”

  He had no problem with me being away.

  And I got it then. It hit me like a shot.

  My situation with Deke.

  My dad’s with Joss.

  In order to feed on what it needed, a poet’s soul sought that which it’d never find, or in Dad’s case (just a guess but I suspected a good one), sabotaged what it had in order to feed that need.

  There had to be yearning. There had to be melancholy. There had to be pain mixed with pleasure, but the pain had to come stronger than the pleasure, knowing it never would get what
it really needed.

  No poet could be truly happy or their soul would waste away from starvation.

  I nodded and made another instant decision.

  “Right. I gotta get on that but I’ll make you boys coffee before. Just help yourself.”

  Without letting him say anything, I moved back, got the hell out of his space and turned to do just that.

  “Jus,” he called.

  Shit!

  I turned back and forced my eyes to his.

  “You onstage last night, went home, pulled down a few of your songs,” he told me and I braced. “You got amazing talent and a beautiful voice, baby.”

  One of the songs he probably heard was “Chain Link.”

  And he had no idea.

  And that was something he’d never know.

  “Thanks,” I muttered then quit fucking around and moved swiftly.

  It didn’t matter I was hasting a quick retreat, he didn’t call out to me again.

  So I succeeded in doing something I should have done from the beginning.

  I escaped Deke.

  * * * * *

  Deke

  “Not my business.”

  “Bub, don’t.”

  “Not my business but I gotta—”

  “Bub, I’m tellin’ you, don’t.”

  It was late morning. They’d been hauling drywall up to the second floor so Deke could get to work up there next week, but now they were on the scaffolding, laying the tongue-in-groove ceilings.

  Bubba had let it be for three hours.

  Being Bubba, it was a miracle it lasted that long.

  “Was there last night, Deke. Everyone was,” Bubba told him.

  “You speak English?” Deke asked.

  “Wood. Maggie. Tate. Laurie. Jim-Billy. And, dude,” his voice had become a warning, “Krys.”

  That they could talk about.

  “Then it’s good you brought it up,” Deke said. “’Cause I can tell you to tell your woman to keep out of it.”

  “What happened?” Bubba asked.

  “None of your business.”

  “Was everyone’s business the way she sang right to you. Right to you, man. And then after she was done, you took off and Jus took off after you.” Bubba’s head tipped to the side. “You two are tight. Easy to see. You’ve known Krys for years. Laurie. Lexie. Faye. Not tight with any of ’em the way you let Jus jabber at you and you actually listen. You got something goin’ with her?”