Page 6 of Jameson’s Salvation

“I know, it wasn’t hard,” he said through gritted teeth, and I was starting to wonder what his problem was. He didn’t strike me as the type of man who thought a woman should sit in the house barefoot, but like he’d said, he was a stranger. Though I couldn’t see Nixon tolerating any friend of his having that line of thinking.

Before I could ask him what his issue was, he opened his door. “Come on, let’s go inside.”

I wordlessly followed him around the back of the house and through the sliding glass door into the dining room.

“Wow. This place looks great,” I noted.

“You’ve been in here before?”

“Yeah. I used to help Mr. Swagger bale hay in the summers. And before that, when I was a kid.”

“You know Nix well?”

There was something in his tone again I couldn’t place. I really hoped he didn’t think I was after Nixon.

“You know that I know Nixon is with McKenna, right?”

His body jerked and he leveled me with a pissed-off glare. “Why would you say that?”

“I don’t know, the way you asked me if I knew Nix gave me the impression you were trying to figure out if I was gonna cause trouble for him or something. Nixon and I have been friends since we were five. Or I should say, we were friends until he left for the Navy. And since high school graduation I’ve talked to him a total of two times. Both when he was home visiting. I don’t want to cause any issues. I just need some help.”

“And you asking for help, is that gonna cause an issue, whether you mean for it or not?”

“Maybe this was a bad idea.” I turned to go back toward the door and immediately started thinking of other ways I could deal with Reggie. Now that Sheriff Dillinger was gone, the police would be more help. Not that I had any evidence Reggie was harassing me, but it wouldn’t hurt to file another complaint.

“Why’s that?” Jameson’s question stopped me.

“Sorry to say, you’re kinda a jerk and after the day I’ve had, I don’t need the hassle.”

Jameson’s full lips tipped up into a smile, before he roared with laughter.

Sweet baby Jesus, he was something else when he laughed. Gone was the thorn-in-his-ass bear and hello Mr. Sexy.

“Sorry to interrupt,” a male voice startled me and I let out a squeak of surprise.

Both men’s attention came to me as my hand went over my beating heart.

“Holy fracking monkey balls, you scared me.”

“Did she just say monkey balls?” the man asked Jameson.

“I think she has a fascination with balls. That’s twice she’s mentioned them in thirty minutes,” Jameson answered.

“I’m not fascinated by balls,” I defended.

“You’re not?” Jameson asked. “You seemed fairly concerned about Reggie Coleman’s balls being twisted.”

“I was not. I said he didn’t like his balls being twisted, not that I was concerned about them.”

“Right.” Jameson chuckled.

“Why are we talking about balls?”

“I don’t know. You’re the one that keeps bringin’ them up.”

“Well, can we please stop talking about balls?”

“Who’s Reggie Coleman and why are we concerned about his balls?” the stranger asked.