Apache Nights by Sheri Whitefeather Read Free Book Online

you going to tell them you’re seeing me?”
    â€œI haven’t decided.” Going native meant police burnout, a cop suffering a mental breakdown, drinking too much, doing drugs, carousing. “Clever play on words.” In this case, going native meant keeping company with a lust-driven Apache.
    They both fell silent, and she wondered if he was going to tell his Indian comrades about her. Somehow, she envisioned him keeping quiet.
    â€œThis is a good start,” she said. “I’m glad you brought me here.”
    His gaze drilled hers. “Are you?”
    â€œYes. This place is perfect.” It was loud and raunchy, but the tourists made it seem normal. They were regular people, not L.A. hipsters.
    Proving Joyce’s point, a fifty-something woman in polyester pants and a lightweight sweater climbed onto the mechanical bull. Her ride was slow, but far from sexy. Yet that hardly mattered. Her family was cheering her on.
    Kyle watched the activity. “Looks like they’re having fun.”
    â€œYes, it does.” She felt a pang of familiarity. The woman’s husband was giving her pointers, and thepeople Joyce assumed were her children were young adults, probably with chaotic lives of their own, but the bond was there, the undeniable connection. “My family is like that.”
    â€œYour mom would come here and ride a bull?”
    That made her laugh. Her mother was an old-fashioned, sweetly behaved homemaker. “No. But she’s our foundation. She holds all of us together.”
    â€œAll of you?” He sat back and examined her. “Do you come from a big family?”
    â€œSix girls.”
    â€œDamn. I’ll bet your dad went crazy. All that hairspray and perfume in one house.” He made a face. “Not to mention PMS six times a month.” He paused, pondering the situation. “Seven if you include your mom.”
    Joyce shook her head. Kyle never failed to express his chauvinist views. She balled up an extra napkin and threw it at him. He shrugged and tossed it back at her.
    The woman’s ride ended. She walked over to her family, where good cheer erupted. Her husband gave her a playful swat on the bottom.
    The pang of familiarity returned. Joyce’s dad did that to her mom, too. “My father is a retired police officer.”
    Kyle frowned a little. “Is he the one who influenced you?”
    â€œI always loved hearing about his job.” To her, ithad seemed far more exciting than her mom’s station in life. But now she didn’t know what to think. Those baby urges were messing with her brain.
    â€œAre any of your sisters cops?”
    â€œNo.” They all had a career of some kind, and they all had husbands and kids, but no one, not even their husbands were in law enforcement. “They worry about me the way they used to worry about Dad.”
    â€œThat’s understandable. It’s human nature, I guess. We live in violent times.”
    She gave him a pointed look. “With men who carry guns. Men who aren’t supposed to.”
    He came forward in his chair. “Then your sisters have a lot to worry about, don’t they?”
    â€œI should have busted you.”
    He smiled. “Yeah, but you went out with me instead.” He saluted her with his empty beer. “The girl’s got guts.”
    She smiled, too. “Or mush for brains.”
    They finished dinner, and he insisted on dessert. Not that Joyce was opposed to a hunk of chocolate cake. She just imagined it going to her hips. Still, it didn’t take much to persuade her.
    â€œDo you want to dance later?” he asked. “The band comes on around eleven.”
    She dived into her cake, knowing she would have to hit the gym first thing in the morning. “Dance?”
    â€œDid you think I was goofing around with the skeleton? Those were some serious moves.”
    She bit back a smile, recalling the way her neighbors had