Nothing but Trouble (Entangled Select Suspense) (Vegas Vixens) by J.L. Hammer

Author:J.L. Hammer [Hammer, J.L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Select Suspense, Romance, Entangled, suspense
Publisher: Entangled Publishing, LLC
Published: 2014-11-16T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

“Migraine, my butt!” Frankie grumbled. “Usually requires going to the hospital, she says. Ha!” Lydia had collapsed and Wes had carried her to his truck. Now Frankie was driving a cute little Miata back to Wes’s cabin.

Hitting a pothole on purpose, she bounced as the Barbie car caught air. Then Frankie remembered if she damaged Lydia’s car, the lady would have to stay longer. A few minutes ticked by and nothing seemed to be rattling. Exhaling a breath of relief, she reduced her speed.

Next to Lydia and her killer outfit, Frankie looked frumpy in her discount duds and stilettos. Lydia’s long hazelnut strands glistened like a gosh darn commercial, making Frankie’s quickly combed hair appear even more of a mess. The lady could have at least had a gap-tooth smile. No such luck.

She pulled onto the highway. Pine trees hugged the road, their tops reaching toward the blue sky. She allowed the hum of the car to relax her. It was hard to believe that Wes had lied. Clearly, the man wanted Lydia out of his life, and it made Frankie feel useful that he’d turned to her in his time of need. Saving him from the claws of his ex-wife was the least she could do after dumping the Domino mess on his lap.

Her thoughts gravitated to the kiss. Wes had kissed her for all the world to see. Okay, there were only four people, but still. Maybe he did like her—even really, really liked her. Lydia could be a godsend. He would forget he was mad at her and would…? What? Kiss her like crazy and ask her to stay in Dolores? Stand by her side—even after this mess with Domino was cleared up? She was delusional. Wes was a standup guy and lawman to boot. He wouldn’t be interested in a relationship with a mess like her.

The air inside the Miata grew thick as she inhaled a shaky breath. Lydia was a much prettier mess, and he had no qualms about cutting her loose. She reminded herself that Lydia was a tramp and she was no such thing. Regardless, Wes wanting her other than for comfort sex was just wishful thinking. But Frankie owed him. She wouldn’t leave until Lydia and her designer butt were bouncing down the highway.

By the time she parked the Miata next to the cabin, he’d already carried his ex inside. In record time, Frankie made it into the cabin. Hearing voices in the second bedroom—her room—she hustled in that direction.

“Wes, please turn off the light. It’s making my headache worse.”

Yeah, right. Frankie stomped her feet as she entered. Juvenile, but she couldn’t help herself. The lamp switched off, the sunlight from outside casting the room in a soft glow.

“I’ll get some Ibuprofen,” he offered in a curt tone.

Why didn’t he just toss the lady out on her derriere? She didn’t understand men. He approached Frankie where she stood at the door. Snagging her hand, Wes pulled her with him into the bathroom.

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