as the stoic, grim-faced man who blended the best of bad boy with cowboy.
Which made the gentle eyes and insistence on keeping her company that much more surprising.
Hoyt didn’t do gentle. Or kind. Or congenial. He wasn’t nasty, per se. He was just aloof. Separate.
Alone.
Hoyt Reynolds kept to himself. He wasn’t a gossip and he wasn’t prone to nosing into anyone’s business.
Which, Reese figured, probably made him the perfect companion for her evening’s adventure.
* * *
Hoyt Reynolds ignored the small licks of attraction that sizzled through his nerve endings, willing himself to focus on the bigger picture. Reese Grantham might be a gorgeous companion over a few drinks, but she was clearly in pain and it didn’t take a genius to figure out that the way she was managing it wasn’t the brightest idea.
Russ Grantham had surprised them all when his sins came to light this past spring. Hoyt’s future sister-in-law had almost paid the biggest price, but something of the good man they’d all believed Russ to be must have finally shown through. Russ had let Belle go, taking his own life, and the secrets he’d buried deep along with him.
Hoyt didn’t spent much time in town, but he’d seen Reese a few times, once at the gas station filling up her car and another over produce at the market. She’d been too many bays over at the gas station for him to say anything, but he hadn’t missed the vacant look in her eyes or the emptiness that seemed to hover around her. A fact that was reinforced when he’d attempted conversation over the oranges.
She’d been polite and pleasant, but the wariness in her eyes was hard to miss. Whether it was from personal grief or their connection over Belle, he wasn’t sure, but she’d hightailed it out of there with her cart as soon as she could politely flee.
Which brought them here. The drink she’d already had seemed to suppress the flight instinct, but there was a determination in her hazel gaze that was unmistakable.
Which meant he’d keep an eye on her, prevent her from drinking too much and see that she got home safe and sound.
Tabasco caught his eye as he set down two more beers along with two more whiskey chasers. Hoyt didn’t miss the clear warning in the man’s gaze, or the equally clear directive to watch out for her, and he simply nodded as Tabasco cleared Reese’s empties.
He wasn’t a hound dog. He might find her attractive but he hadn’t done anything about it up to now; he sure as hell wasn’t going to take advantage of her at a weak moment. He wasn’t particularly successful at relationships—he preferred his own company and no one prying into his most personal thoughts—so he kept his dating out of the Pass and far away from local acquaintances.
But damn, she looked good.
Her hair fell in long dark waves down her back, the color a rich sable. She’d lost weight and was edging toward too skinny, but it didn’t diminish the round swells of her breasts beneath a sleeveless tank or the lush curve of her hips beneath her jeans. Although she was seated, he knew the long, long legs that currently ended in sexy flip-flops that bared purple-painted toenails were a spectacular sight, whether she wore one of her conservative dresses for teaching or a pair of shorts for a town picnic.
Purple polish?
He had no idea why he found that cute since he could care less about nail polish or the varied colors it came in. Yet, on Reese Grantham it looked good. Everything looked good on her, from the outfit tonight to the more severe choices she wore while teaching. She was pretty and sexy, in a way that wasn’t garish or overdone and...
And he’d do well to cut off that train before it got a head of steam.
No matter how good she looked, it couldn’t erase the sadness that lingered in her eyes or the light smudges that filled in the hollows below them.
Nor could it erase the fact that one of her father’s crimes had been committed on Reynolds land the prior spring. In the crime that had begun his descent into capture, Russ Grantham had killed his quarry at the edge of Reynolds property, seeking to make it look like a drug deal gone bad.
“What are you doing out on a Tuesday night?” Reese asked, reaching for her beer. The question was enough to jar him from the bleak direction of his thoughts and he reached out and hung on to it with both hands.
“I could ask you the same.”
“I asked first.”
She had a spine, something that had always intrigued him, and with a small nod, he answered her. “Figured I’d get a beer or two. Snag a few games of pool off anyone who was interested.”
“Please don’t let me stop you.”
Although he heard no hint of the bum’s rush, he couldn’t resist teasing her a bit. “You trying to get rid of me?”
“No!” Those pretty hazel eyes widened as if she realized what she’d said. “I didn’t mean you had to go away. I just meant you don’t have to babysit me.”
“Why’s it babysitting?”
“Because I can already see the good cowboy routine. The nod to Tabasco that you’ll take care of me. The whole you-can’t-drink-alone stance. You feel sorry for me.”
Although he knew she didn’t have kids, it struck him in that moment that she spent her professional life around children and had clearly developed that legendary second set of eyes in the back of her head.
“You saw that?”
“What?” She inclined her head toward the opposite end of the bar. “The manly eye contact with Tabasco, ensuring you’d get me home?”
“Yeah. That one.”
“Yes, I saw it.”
He nearly laughed at the prim tone and the way her hands folded on the bar in front of her second round of beer and whiskey chasers, but held back. She was amusing, but he wasn’t trying to make fun of her and for reasons he couldn’t quite define, he wasn’t sure she would understand the difference tonight.
Hell, he didn’t even understand it. He’d headed in because he was restless and tired of his own company. A state that had become increasingly consistent over the past year. He hadn’t felt this way in a while. The last time he could remember was his final year in special ops, when even three major wins, removing several terrorists in power hadn’t settled his thoughts of home and the help he knew his family needed on the ranch. Before that, it had been the decision to enlist, escaping the confines of that same family and the sense that the world was bigger—and needed more of him—than simply raising cattle.
Oh, how things had changed.
Which had all brought him here.
A mindless night out had seemed like a good idea. He wasn’t big on having his business spread around Midnight Pass like manure, so he hadn’t put seducing a woman on the list of activities for the evening, but he’d be lying if he didn’t acknowledge—only to himself—that he was enjoying her company.
He’d be lying even harder
