Big Bad John (Bigger in Texas Series) (2 page)

Trudy stuck her tongue in her cheek and made the turn that took them away from the gas station and the Walmart that appeared to be the only new addition to the town since she’d left. “Are you referring to the monthly demonstrations you’ve been on me to start giving at the club?”

“Only because you were born for the stage, and you won’t stop picking on the Doms who—in your opinion—get it wrong. I don’t think it’s that big a step. You’ve been a demo bottom for some of the best riggers in the country. And your online opinion posts are incredibly popular. If you weren’t such a phenomenal singer I’d advise you to write more than songs for a living.”

Trudy glanced over at Caroline, a wicked grin on her lips. “I do have a lot to say, I admit it. Though I don’t think I’d have to teach that Shibari master you played with anything. He knew exactly what he was doing.”

Her friend bit her lip and ran a hand over her damp neck, stretching it to one side. “He did, didn’t he? But I wish you hadn’t reminded me. He’ll be back in New York by the time we get home. Two weeks in Backwater Junction suddenly seems like a lifetime.”

Trudy’s smile widened. When strangers invariably asked her how she’d met and befriended
the
Caroline Aaron, daughter of the famous director and gossip girl to the stars, she told them they’d met at a club and hit it off.

She just never told them what kind of club. 

Trudy understood the skepticism no one could hide whenever they were out together. On the outside they didn’t look like they had much in common. Hell, on the outside they didn’t appear to be from the same planet. If Trudy still had any lingering traces of country mouse, there was no denying that her friend was one hundred percent city through and through. Specifically Los Angeles. More specifically, West Hollywood. One look at Caroline was all it took to know she’d think glamping was too rustic a pastime.

And everybody looked.

Caroline was the kind of woman who drew the eye. Physically the exact opposite of the short, diet-resistant body Trudy had been born with, Caroline’s was long, lean and undeniably elegant. Whether she was on the red carpet cracking jokes with movie idols, backstage with a rock star’s latest supermodel girlfriend, or stripped down to her black and white skull and crossbones panties on the stage of her favorite fetish club, she was always perfectly put together. Polished and glossed and moisturized within an inch of her life, yet nothing about her was cool or distant. Caroline was…Caroline. The effortless warmth of the California sun itself, and men and women alike found themselves angling to get closer to her. To be near her.

It was something Trudy always marveled at but never envied. How could she? Her friend was a natural phenomenon. No surgery or personal trainers required. Caroline was as rare as a comet—rare because she was such a contradiction. Beautiful
and
kind. Confident
and
self-effacing. Pampered and compassionate. Most importantly, she was the best friend Trudy had ever had.

It was Caroline who’d spent nights holding her on her couch as she cried after the band she’d created decided they’d get more gigs with a sexy, shirtless male vocalist than a short, curvaceous songwriter with a chip on her shoulder. Back when she thought her music career was over. Before iTunes and YouTube had helped her to develop a healthy following online.

It was Caroline who’d brought her the most delicious gourmet chicken soup from an out-of-the-way place no tourist knew about when she was sick in bed and far from home. Who called her every evening, no matter where she was, to hear every detail of her ordinary day. And it was Caroline who’d come up to her the first night she’d entered the club nine years ago, introducing herself before looping her arm through Trudy’s and telling her they were going to be the best of friends.

She’d been right.

Trudy nodded. “It might feel like a lifetime, but you’re the one who told me that there is no art without suffering. Luckily, the suffering should be minimal. In a town this small, your target hasn’t been too hard to track down. I even called in a favor from our old housekeeper Margery. She knows the woman you’re looking for. She’s going to see if she can convince her to have lunch with you next week.”

Caroline squeaked. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

Biting her lip, Trudy confessed, “I was waiting for the right time. You know, as soon as you were regretting your impulsive trip to the middle of nowhere with your needy friend and planning your escape.”

Caroline smiled and rubbed her hands together in front of the a/c vent. “Then I forgive you and applaud your genius, because despite my love for you, I
was
calculating cab fare back to the airport. Now? Bring on the heat. As long as I know I’ll get the chance to finally draw my prey out of hiding, I can handle anything.” She paused. “Now that we’re on this dirt road, do you think we can pull over so I can change into my shorts? My thighs are actually sweating. It’s a new and rather disgusting experience for me and I’d like it to end as soon as humanly possible.”

Trudy laughed and nodded, pulling over to the side of the road. Despite the car’s cooling system, she was still overheated as well.

John.

No, she huffed silently to herself. Just the weather. “Let’s hurry. The last time I did this I was a teenager and a Mennonite family rode past. I think I shocked their son into swallowing his tongue.”

Caroline laughed and lifted the trunk of the rental car, already foraging through a suitcase. She’d brought four to Trudy’s one. Caroline was nothing if not prepared. The Boy Scouts could learn a thing or two from her.

She found a pair of small, fashionably worn jean shorts and pursed her lips. “Too Daisy Mae? Or exactly the right amount?”

“We’re only going to my house,” Trudy assured her. “You might drive my brother mad with lust, but I think you’ll be safe. The cast will slow him down, if nothing else.”

Caroline didn’t hesitate, slipping off her glittering flip-flops and the black yoga pants she’d worn for the flight and bending over to cover her thong with the jean shorts. “I’m sure he’ll be fine. I can’t believe I’m finally going to meet him after all our near misses. He always seems to come to visit you when I’m out of town.”

Trudy grimaced, but Caroline wasn’t looking in her direction. “Yeah, I know. It’s weird.”

Not weird so much as perfectly timed. For all their sakes…but mostly for her own. She liked keeping her past and present separate, and she had been determined to keep her sex life private from her brother. She didn’t want him to know that she was thinking about teaching other people how to use rope for bondage scenes, or that she liked to be controlled and spanked. That she really got off on watching. She wasn’t ashamed of her kinky preferences, but it wasn’t something she wanted to share with him or anyone else in the outside world. It was hers. Her outlet. Talking about it outside of the club or outside of the online community she was a part of only tarnished it for her.

Caroline was very involved in it all, truly
in
the lifestyle, and very open about it, so it was inevitable that the subject would come up when she and Jefferson got together. And like any older brother, Jefferson would subtly—or not so subtly—give her hell for it. While she trusted Caroline’s discretion absolutely, Trudy didn’t want to put her in the position of having to lie for her, which meant keeping the two of them apart for all their sakes.

That was easier to do when Jefferson came to see her—then she could control the situation, avoid discomfort.

There would be no avoiding it now.

Trudy paused for a moment before following her lead, peeling off her damp jeans to replace them with a pair of longer cutoff shorts that she wore around the house for cleaning.

Why she hadn’t heard horse hooves she’d never know. Maybe it was all the guilt and nerves buzzing in her ears.

“Trudy? Gertrude Adams, is that you, girl?”

Her hands momentarily froze before she hiked the shorts up over her lace underwear with a sigh. She knew that voice.

“Mr. Giese?” She turned around and saw the old man clinging to his horse…and he wasn’t alone. “And Tommy. Look at you, all grown up.”

The Giese’s owned the neighboring land, and Tommy Giese had been fourteen when she left home. He’d followed Trudy around everywhere she went, no matter how she tried to shake him. She did the math. He had to be twenty-seven now. He’d finally grown into his arms and legs. He was more handsome than she’d expected…though the leer on his face was still juvenile and familiar.

He licked his lips and nodded his head. “I wasn’t expecting to see you, Trudy. Certainly not so much of you. Aren’t you some kind of rock star by now? Cute tattoo by the way. Is that a flying bunny on your hip? And those purple streaks in your hair…you do that on purpose too?”

The older man glared at his son for a moment before tipping his frayed baseball cap toward Caroline and Trudy. “Pardon his manners, ladies. He gets them from his mama’s side, I’m afraid. Those people are rude to the bone. It’s good to see you again, Trudy. After your daddy’s funeral everyone in town laid bets you wouldn’t come round again until Jefferson’s. Has your brother taken a turn for the worse?”

Tommy snorted. “He broke his leg being an idiot for the cameras, Dad. He’s not dying from the damp lung.” He eyed Caroline and studied her legs in a way that made Trudy uncomfortable. “Who’s your friend, Gertrude? I’d like to get an up close look at
her
tattoos.”

Caroline responded before Trudy could, walking toward the horses to reach up and politely shake the older man’s hand.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mister Giese.” She lowered her voice conspiratorially. “I have family that enjoys embarrassing me, too. A cousin who can’t resist pinching every behind that gets within touching distance and talking to any tabloid reporter in a ten-mile radius. Luckily, high doses of medication, a few stints in rehab and years of therapy have worked wonders. I highly recommend it.”

Mr. Giese laughed, loud and chainsaw rough. “No surprise you two gals are friends,” he chortled. “Hear that, Tommy? Don’t think I won’t call a head shrinker if you don’t get home before I do. Go on, now. Git.”

Tommy glared at Caroline and Trudy before smacking the reins against his poor horse and disappearing down the road at a gallop.

His father shook his head. “At this rate I’ll never be a grandfather,” he muttered, tipping his hat once more. “Maybe it’s for the best. Tell Jefferson I’m here if he’s shorthanded. Least I can do after the deal he’s givin’ me. Though from what I understand, Big John has everything under control.”

“Thank you, sir. I’ll let him know,” Trudy assured him, watching him ride away, her brow furrowing. The cameras? What deal? What the hell was going on?

“I bet that Tommy had a giant-sized creepy crush on you, didn’t he?” Caroline leaned against the rental car with an intrigued expression. “Speaking of giant… did he say Big John? Am I really going to meet someone named
Big
John? You’ve never mentioned him before. Sounds promising. My spidey senses are all a-tingle.”

Trudy winced. Sometimes she really hated Caroline’s superhuman ability to sniff out a story. John’s nickname on her lips sent Trudy’s mind racing.

Big John. Big
Bad
John. That was what everyone had called him when he first arrived, and the moniker had stuck. Like that old country song, he’d come from somewhere in Louisiana, an enigmatic man with secrets that he’d somehow managed to keep for years in this tiny, nosy town, and he was as big as a mountain. A sexy, lickable six-foot-six mountain. He also had a protective, possessive hero complex and the ability to invade every dirty fantasy Trudy ever had for over a decade.

And she’d never mentioned him to her best friend. The best friend who knew every dark and dirty secret Trudy had ever had. Except for that one.

With a bolt of clarity that struck her like lightning, she suddenly knew why. Two of the most sexually charismatic and attractive people she’d ever known were less than ten minutes away from meeting face to face. The idea made her throat tighten uncomfortably. How had that
not
crossed her mind? But it hadn’t, not until she’d seen Tommy’s lewd expression when he’d caught a glimpse of Caroline. Not until she’d said his name. Big John.

Caroline would be as taken with John as every other woman in town under eighty always was. And no man she’d ever met could resist Caroline when she decided she wanted him.

Hell.

Caroline whistled and straightened with a worried frown. “From your expression it seems there’s a lot you didn’t tell me. Don’t worry, Tru. I’m not planning on riding any cowboys on this trip, no matter how big they are. I only want to help with your brother if you need me…and get that interview. But you do know that I’m now going to pester you until you tell me everything that blush of yours is hinting at.”

“I know it.” Trudy shrugged, trying not to meet her probing gaze. She opened her car door and slid behind the wheel, waiting for Caroline to follow. When she was in the passenger seat, groaning in gratitude at the fresh blast of cold air that greeted her, Trudy took a deep breath.

Time to go home.

They traveled the rest of the short trip in silence, and Trudy could feel Caroline’s curiosity increase with every passing moment. She turned into the driveway, parked the running car and hopped out to open the gate before driving through, making sure she closed it behind her, then headed down the long, bumpy path that led to the old place.

The trees along the driveway thinned and the land opened up as they reached the two-story house covered in butter yellow paint that was chipped and faded with age.  She could see some work had been done. The gutters looked new and the windows were double paned. The white paint around the windowsills and on door looked fresh and clean. But the place had never been paid much attention to, beyond emergency fixes. For as long as she could remember, it had been neglected. Her dad used to say that fixing up the place had been her mother’s dream. When she left, she’d taken that dream with her. Holding onto the land was all that mattered to him after that.