Jackrabbit Junction Jitters by Ann Charles Read Free Book Online

at
that R.V. park just up the road?” His slow Texas drawl rounded out the hard
consonants.
    Claire looked over at her sister, wondering if this Matthew
McConaughey look-a-like was just a figment of her over-stressed imagination.
But Kate was too busy doing that flirty eyelash-batting, pouty-lip routine she
always did when she was trying to catch a man’s attention to notice Claire.
    “Who wants to know?” She wasn’t above being suspicious of a
stranger, especially one with whiter teeth than her dentist’s.
    His smile deepened at the creases. “I forgot my manners.
Porter Banks at your service.” He held out his hand.
    Claire stared at it a few seconds before shaking it,
wondering what Porter Banks was up to. If he thought spreading a little charm
would get her to agree to spin his spurs, he could climb back on his horse and
vaya con dios his sorry ass out of town.
    His palm was pencil-pushing soft. She pulled her hand free.
    “I’m Claire, and this is Kate.”
    And that was how the song-and-dance usually started. Men
approached Claire first because Kate had eye-contact issues. But soon after
introducing her blonde sister, Claire was left to drink alone for the remainder
of the evening.
    Porter gave Kate a quick “nice-ta-meetcha” and a brief nod,
then refocused on Claire.
    She blinked in the halogen brightness of his smile. Wasn’t
it against the law for a man to be prettier than a woman? It made all of the
shaving and preening futile.
    “Would you mind takin’ a spin on the dance floor, Claire?”
When she hesitated, he added, “I promise not to bite.”
    What could one dance hurt? “Sure.”
    Claire stubbed out her cigarette. She shoved a piece of
cinnamon gum in her mouth as she followed him. Hank Williams Jr.’s rowdy song
ended and Linda Ronstadt’s version of Desperado filled the bar. One other
couple shared the floor, their lips locked so tightly Claire couldn’t tell
where one started and the other ended.
    Porter pulled her so close she could feel the heat radiating
from his skin. He smelled of a subtle mixture of vanilla and cedar. They danced
for several seconds in silence, his lead smooth, his footsteps sure.
    In her pre-Mac days, Claire might have gotten a bit warm and
breathy around him. But just one look from Mac sucked the wind out of her sails
and lit her fire with rocket fuel gusto. Other men didn’t stand a chance.
    “How’d you know I work at the R.V. park?”
    “Butch mentioned it.”
    There wasn’t much around Jackrabbit Junction that Butch the
bartender didn’t know.
    “Do you live around here?” She hadn’t seen this guy in town
before.
    “Not permanently. I’m renting a double-wide just south of
town. I’m here doing some research.”
    “For what?”
    “My next book.” He paused, as if waiting for her to ooh and
ahh.
    “Let me guess, the great American novel.”
    “Sarcasm, huh? I like that in a girl.”
    “What are you researching?”
    Jackrabbit Junction wasn’t exactly an eclectic town,
although the hardware store did offer a wide selection of deer piss and shotgun
shells.
    “Mining.” He twirled her around and pulled her back against
him, even closer.
    Claire didn’t object, not yet anyway. She could still make
eye contact. “How long are you staying?”
    “A couple of months, maybe. Then I’ll head back to Amarillo
and put pen to paper.” He glanced over her head.
    “How long does it take to research mining in this area?”
    “That depends.”
    “On what?”
    “Library hours, company records, people’s willingness to
share information.” He glanced over her head again. “I think your friend is
trying to get your attention.”
    Her friend? “Oh, you mean my sister.”
    “Your sister? Is she working at the R.V. park, too?”
    “No, she’s just visiting. She’s here for—”
    “Excuse me.” A very familiar, deep voice interrupted her. “Mind
if I cut in?”
    Claire choked on the rest of her sentence.

Chapter Four
    “You come here