Out For Justice. Susan Kearney

Cara. Her friend might disapprove, she might speak her mind, but they always backed each other up.

      When they were teenagers, Kelly’s parents had been a big factor in the boys she’d chosen to date. But perhaps she should reconsider their influence. After all, she was no longer a kid but a college graduate.

      “Okay. Wade’s still got these very cool gray eyes. I admit it, there’s a certain spark there. At least on my side. However, he’s still treating me like Andrew’s little sister.”

      “And you don’t like it?”

      “I like the way his chest and shoulders fill out his tacky T-shirt in all the right places.” She held up a hand to stall Cara’s protest. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t accept his help without becoming…involved. I don’t judge a man on just his looks.”

      “Wade’s not like those college guys you go with. He’s dangerous. I don’t like the idea of you and him together. It’s like trusting a hungry wolf to guard a newborn calf.”

      “Andrew trusted him,” Kelly countered.

      “And look where he is now.”

      Kelly didn’t bother to hide the pain that statement caused. “I can’t believe you said that.”

      “Sorry. My reporter instincts took over. Going in for the kill to win an argument is my specialty.” Cara reached over the table, her eyes filled with remorse, and patted Kelly’s hand. “But hurting my friend is unacceptable.”

      Kelly shoved her half-eaten salad away. “Apology accepted. I guess I’m overly sensitive these days.”

      “Of course you’re overly sensitive. Who wouldn’t be after losing their brother? You’re not yourself and that’s one of the reasons I’m worried about you hanging out with Wade. I’ll admit he can be useful. He knows almost everyone, and he and Andrew were tight.”

      “But?”

      “But you’re especially vulnerable right now. These last weeks have been rough. And you know Wade’s reputation is…”

      “Just say it.”

      “He’s a hard man to read, and at the same time he’s a gifted observer. I’ve seen him at work behind that bar. He can fix food and serve drinks and act totally absorbed in his work, but now and then it pops out how he’s exceptionally aware of his customers. It’s almost as if he senses trouble before it starts—like he has sensory antennae, alerting him to what is awry, out of place or simply off.”

      “Those aren’t bad traits.”

      “Yeah, but he keeps his own counsel and runs that saloon like it’s his own private kingdom. He’s always in charge. I’ve seen him toss out three-hundred-pound drunks without breaking a sweat or resorting to pulling the knife he keeps strapped to his ankle.”

      “He’s a skilled marksman, too,” Kelly added, recalling the picture Andrew had taken of Wade holding a trophy. “He wins the skeet-shooting competition at the state fair every year. But so what if he doesn’t need a bouncer at that saloon of his? Andrew says—said—Wade could be trusted. I figured if there’s trouble, he’s a good person to have on my side.”

      “Yeah, as long as he’s not gunning for you.” Cara drummed her fingers on the table. “Trouble has a way of finding that man. And the women, old and young, are still attracted to him like mares to a stallion.”

      “Give me a little credit. We won’t do anything that I don’t want.”

      Cara shot her a skeptical grin. “And what exactly do you want from him?”

      Kelly paid for their meal with a credit card. “We can discuss it while you help me pick out a thoroughly intimidating new outfit.”

      “You changing outfits for the sheriff or for Wade?” Cara asked.

      “Stop grilling me,” Kelly half demanded, half complained, knowing her friend meant well but would try to boss her until she put a stop to it. “I know what I’m doing.”

      “Sure you do.” Cara checked her watch. “I don’t have much time. Some of us have to work for a living.”

      Kelly rolled her eyes. “You love that job so much, if the Mustang Gazette didn’t pay you, you’d work there for free.”

      “And I’ve got an interview lined up with Mayor Daniels over his election campaign.”

      “You’re not working on one of your exposés where you’ve got to go undercover?” Kelly asked.

      Cara shook her head. “Not this week, but stay tuned. Anyway, how about I catch up with you later?”

      “Okay.”

      “And Kelly…”

      “Yes?”

      “Be careful.”

      “Would you please stop worrying? I’ll be fine.”

      SURELY THAT COULDN’T BE Kelly waiting for him in front of the police station, wearing an outfit Wade classified between summer-break bragging and Vogue good-looking? He swallowed hard and reminded himself that his friend’s little sister was taboo territory. The fact that Andrew was no longer alive to remind him didn’t entitle Wade to forget she was off-limits.

      Still, keeping his eyes above her neck was going to be more difficult than controlling a rowdy Saturday night crowd at the Hit ’Em Again Saloon. The contrast between her lace V-neck blouse and string of pearls that dipped between her breasts and her classic smile was almost enough to make Wade spin around and head elsewhere—except he’d promised Andrew to watch out for his little sister.

      Wade sighed and kept walking with his teeth gritted in determination. He considered himself fairly knowledgeable about women and their clothes, but Kelly had knocked him off balance for the second time that day.

      What in hell did she think she was doing? After working behind a bar he’d learned to recognize that the way a woman dressed said quite a bit about her personality and her mood. Kelly always wore classy, expensive, designer stuff that said hands off. Now her expensive fitted lace blouse stretched across a chest that had suddenly grown ample—no doubt due to some clever underwires designed to tease and entice.

      Judging by the heat shooting directly south, he was “enticed” all right. Down boy. Kelly was still Kelly. First and foremost she was one high-maintenance lady. Her manicures alone likely cost more than his electric bill.

      He had no doubt she was dressing this way for a reason. If she thought the sheriff might be distracted, she would likely be proven correct. No red-blooded male could possibly look at her without his mouth watering. She still wore her hair up, but some of it now tumbled down, curling around her face, one jaunty lock over the corner of her left eye. And those knotted pearls that tucked into the hollow of her breasts taunted his fingers to touch.

      She waved at him and the movement caused her breasts to rise, drawing his gaze to her chest. “Nice.”

      She eyed him with a glint of amusement. “You think I look good in blue?”

      “I wasn’t talking about your shirt.”

      “Oh.” For a moment her eyes widened as if startled, then she eased into a dangerous smile and looped her arm through his. “Good.”

      He didn’t know what he thought when she didn’t act the least insulted by his direct reference to her assets. On the one hand, she seemed more touchable by showing a hint of skin, but contradictorily, he wanted her more than he ever had before. Sure, he’d noticed that Kelly was cute, but he’d never really considered getting together with her. First, there had been Andrew who wouldn’t have been pleased, and second, there had always been this unbreachable wall between them. However, the wall had cracks, ones he couldn’t seem to stop himself from peeping through.

      He frowned at her. “You going to tell me exactly what you’re