are like a doctor or lawyer, honey. They ‘no comprende’ anything asked about their customers.”
Rusty nodded enthusiastically to this, as it was her new rules after opening her mouth to Cabe that first time he’d entered her cab. But still—“O’Neil, that very scary-looking Indian dude is not going to come around and ask me anything, is he?”
“Shit,” Finn cussed with his hand leaving her shoulder as he sat back. Looking in her rearview mirror, Rusty got pretty worried at the look on Finn’s handsome but rugged features. She could be in trouble. “ Take me, back,” he ordered suddenly and sharply.
It startled her into gripping the wheel in a death grip. Why, what, and how leaped through her thoughts as she swerved and swung the taxi to park by the back fence of Kingston Ranch behind Redrock. She turned in her seat, glaring at Finn. “Are you crazy?” she demanded.
“Babe,” he said firmly. “Go. Back.” He did this leaning forward, with his exceptional green eyes intense and doing weird things inside her.
She bowled right over his badassness. Tess would be proud of her student. “Why?” she demanded back at him. Then she held up her hand when he opened his mouth. “If it’s anything about you sacrificing yourself to keep me safe by going back into the clutches of that scary dude, then, no ... ain’t happening.”
“Clutches?” Finn growled at her gruffly. Then he sat back with sharp motions, digging in the front pocket of his jeans to pull out his cell, she saw, while he was grumbling, “He better have a handle on his woman.”
That was how she found out more about Cabe, like he’d told Finn about them ... of all people to tell.
That was also how she got her ass throw into protective custody.
SEVEN ] TRUST YOU, CAPTAIN
J ustice Walkinghorse? Was there ever a hotter man in law enforcement, Rusty wondered with her gaze traveling over his cowboy hat, buzz cut, past his aviators, sharp nose, red bluff jaw without the red part. Then she wandered over his tan sheriff’s shirt, tight across his broad chest, to his skintight blue jeans packing a gun on one side and badge on the other, and then down to study his cowboy boots.
They looked snake-skinned, like a pair she had, and wasn’t it too damn bad about Justice’s age. She and Tess had lamented the fact he was six years younger than them on several occasions, after seeing his fine ass saunter through town, on the occasions the town needed a federal marshal.
Normally she could spend some time Justice gazing. Now wasn’t one of them.
“No freaking way I’m going into protective custody with you or anyone else, Justice. I need to make money. I’m losing cash just arguing with you and the mysterious Finn, who can get a lawman out at his beck and call.”
Rusty glared at Finn, who was leaning negligently against the front hood of her taxi. His hotter-than-shit mouth bracketed by a black goatee was not smiling as his eyes narrowed back at her. “Need-to-know basis law enforcement and you are not going to know any more than you already do,” Finn declared, in his badass bossy voice.
“Which is squat,” Rusty declared right back at him, with her hand on her hip as she stomped one of her boots in the dirt. “I don’t know anything to tell any one!”
“Ma’am,” Justice said, and she felt his warm hand on her arm. Ohmygod.
“Don’t—” she hissed, jerking from his touch. That did not affect her. “Call me ma’am. I’m not old enough to be a ma’am.”
“Rusty Jean—” Justice started, then Finn overrode him.
“Babe, you’ve got to let me try to protect you. I’d never live with myself anything happened to you,” he growled, and it rumbled right into her flesh and over her.
Aw man ... She tried to look mean ... failed, and then tried again. Then she threw out past the lump in her throat, “You’ve got to give me something.”
“There’s bad shit trying to work its way into town, Rusty Jean,” Justice
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