Trouble With a Cowboy

by Sullivan, Sandy

  "Dad, please? You really aren't going to stick me in the middle of bum-fuck Oklahoma are you?"

  "Yes, honey, we are. You are a resourceful young lady. I'm sure you'll figure out something."

  The phone went dead.

  "They hung up on me," she whispered, holding the phone away from her face, staring at it. Her parents were turning their backs on her. Anger and disbelief zipped through her. She snapped the phone shut with a decisive click and pressed it to her forehead. "I do not believe this." There is nothing in this town. How in the hell am I going to get twelve hundred bucks to get tires? Plus, they probably have to order the damned things. They might have one or two, but they sure as hell won't have four. That means at least a few more days in the motel, meals and feed for Brandy.

  "Maybe I can work something out with the mechanic," she said, dropping some money on the table and heading for the door.

  Moments later, she stood at the big bay doors at the only eighteen-wheeler truck repair shop in Littleton, Oklahoma.

  "Hello? Anyone here?" she yelled, waiting a moment for a response.

  "Back here," someone shouted.

  Following the sound of the voice, she made her way to the rear of the shop. A pair of dirty boots, and worn jeans with the cuffs frayed stuck out from under the frame of a car.

  "I need some tires."

  Legs became hips, hips became a chest and the chest became a knowing smirk of the last person she really wanted to deal with first thing this morning. Oh fuck! Kyle?

  "I bet you do."

  "Son of a bitch," she growled.

  "You know what, honey, I can't help you. You see, I just don't have your size."

  Her vision narrowed as she stepped closer, slamming her hands on her hips in irritation. "You don't even know what size I need."

  "Sure I do. And I bet you need four, right?"

  "You fucking ass—" He wasn’t even trying to hide what he’d done.

  Another voice interrupted her words as she heard someone call from the front of the shop. "Can I get some help up here? I need to ask a question."

  "Why don't you hang tight there, sweetheart. I'm sure we can work out some kind of arrangement." Kyle gave her a wink before he walked away.

  Anger so strong it made her shake, rushed down her body and had her balling her hands into fists. She would bet her last dollar, she knew what kind of arrangement he had in mind. It would be a cold day in Hell, before she let the likes of him touch her.

  She headed to the front, intent on figuring some way out of this predicament. As she neared the counter, she saw the man who must have called out. Nice Wranglers lay taut over his backside and across his lean hips. Black cowboy boots graced feet set wide apart in his apparently irritated stance. His fingers tapped a staccato on the counter while he waited. A western long-sleeved shirt pulled tight over his back muscles and a stark, black Stetson sat perched on his head.

  "Well, well, if it isn't Mister Know-It-All from the bar. What can I do for you, sir?" Kyle growled.

  "Kyle. Nice to see you again," the man replied.

  Jacie tipped her head to get a glimpse of his face. The voice sounded awfully familiar. "Tucker?"

  "Jacie?" A startled gaze raked her from the top of her baseball cap, over her loose fitting shirt and dirty jeans to the boots on her feet. "What are you doing here? Why are you dressed like that?"

  A quick glance at her clothing revealed nothing out of the ordinary to her. "This is how I always dress when I'm working."

  "Working? You work here? I thought you said you weren't from Littleton?"

  "I'm not. I needed something from the shop, but I didn't realize Kyle was the proprietor. I guess I'll have to go elsewhere for what I need."

  "Good luck with that one, Jacie. My shop is the only one in town."

  The smirky, half smile on his lips pissed her off even more.

  "I'll rot in hell in this podunk hole in the wall before I even listen to a proposition from you. I'm not willing to barter for the tires I need, asswipe," she snarled at Kyle. Tucker stood with his arms crossed over his tempting chest and a small smile lifting the corners of his lips. "Nice to see you again, Tucker, but I've got something I need to take care of." Without waiting for a reply, she spun on her heels and headed across the parking lot toward her truck, grumbling and cussing with each step. "Goddamn, son of a bitch, fucking asshole. The devil will be dancing on the polar icecaps before I do anything to—"

  "Jacie! Jacie, wait up!"

  She'd just reached her rig when Tucker caught up with her. "What?"

  "This yours?" he asked, eyeing her truck.

  "Yeah," she replied, bristling with indignation even before he said much.

  "You drive eighteen-wheelers?"

  The incredible look on his face pissed her off, but it really shouldn't have. She'd seen it way too often from people. "Yes I do. You got a problem with it?" The smile she'd seen earlier returned two-fold and she wasn't sure she liked the look in his eyes. "Why?"

  "No, no problem. It suits you."

  "Great. I think." Stomping to the cab, she popped open the door, preparing to climb inside when she realized he'd continued to follow her. "What exactly do you want, Tucker?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder.

  "Have lunch with me."

  She tilted her head to the side. "Excuse me?"

  "I want you to have lunch with me."

  "Why exactly?"

  "I have a proposition for you."

  "I've already been propositioned once this morning. I'm really not in the mood to go for round two," she replied as she brought her foot up and started to climb into the cab. Why exactly she felt the need to be inside, she wasn't sure, but it seemed like the thing to do.

  His hand wrapped around her ankle. "Come on, Jacie. I'm talking about a real, honest to God business deal."

  "What kind of deal?"

  "I'll help you get the tires you need for your truck, but we have to discuss the rest over lunch."

  Her mom had always taught her to hold her temper, but the more she had to deal with egoistical, male-chauvinistic men, the harder it got. True, she'd had to put up with all her siblings, all seven of them, but dealing with the handsome devil who stood at her feet tested every ounce of self-control she possessed.

  "Please?"

  Well, crap. What the hell do I say so that? "Fine," she grumbled, retreating down the couple of steps on the side of the cab. "Where?"

  "The diner? There isn't much to choose from around here."

  "Don't I know it."

  Her boots hit the pavement as one of his eyebrows arched in an I'm-the-man-and-I'm-tolerating-your-independent-woman-attitude look.

  Wonderful. Last night I thought he might have been different. I guess I should have known. I haven't met a man yet who didn't cop an attitude once they find out what I do for a living. With a need to do something with her hands, she brushed invisible dirt from the front of her jeans before she looked in his direction, and then headed off toward the diner without a backward glance. I will not let him get to me. I will not let him get to me. A heavy sigh rushed from between her lips. Too late.

  His much longer legs allowed him to catch her without any difficulty.

  "Slow down. Are you goin' to a fire or somethin'?"

  They reached the diner and he pulled open the glass door for her as she said, "I just want to get this over with, okay?"

  "Is my company so obnoxious? You didn't seem to mind last night."

  With a frown and a narrowing of her eyes, she replied, "Let's get one thing straight, last night was a whole different scenario. Today is the real me. Get used to it or leave me alone."

  "You need to get the burr out from under your saddle or get laid, I'm not sure which, but your snarky attitude isn't going to put me off, Jacie, so cut the crap."

  She frowned even further at his high-handed manner, but didn't say anything more. It wasn't very often a man felt comfortable enough with her to say something to put her in her place. Tu
cker did and it made her take stock of the man he was turning out to be. Someone she could respect. The thought bothered her.

  One corner booth sat empty in the rear of the restaurant. Privacy would be good. She didn't need the whole damned town hearing their conversation, especially since she wasn't sure what his proposition would entail. If he thinks sex has anything to do with this, he's sadly mistaken.

  "You had every intention of sleeping with him last night," her mind whispered.

  "That's different," she grumbled.

  "What's different?" he questioned once they'd taken a seat across from each other.

  "Nothing." With the menu open on the table, she ignored the man across from her, or tried to anyway, until she'd made a selection and the waitress had taken their order. "What's this proposition?" she asked, eager to get the no out of the way and get on with trying to figure out how in the hell to get twelve hundred dollars.

  "I'm in a bit of a spot here too, Jacie."

  "Oh?"

  "I'm stuck here in Littleton myself. I need to get some precious cargo to Vegas in the next week."

  His hand wrapped around the handle of the coffee cup in front of him and lifted the cup to his lips. The muscles of his throat rippled as he swallowed. For some ungodly reason, the whole process seemed sexy.

  She cleared her throat and squeaked, "Go on."

  "I have a bull in a pen out behind your motel."

  Seriously? The bull I saw back there is huge!

  "He's yours?"

  "Yeah and I'm stuck here with him. The driver I had, wrecked his truck outside of town. Hit an abutment, but lucky for me, the bull and my trailer are still in one piece. I would have had to kill him otherwise. Lightning Strike is in the running for Bull of the Year."

  "Wow," she whispered. Holy shit! Bulls up for such a ranking are expensive. "So what's the deal?"

  "I'll buy your tires if you take my trailer and bull to Vegas."

  "And?"

  "What do you mean, and? And nothing. That's it."

  Thoughts of how incredible this all sounded to her, rushed through her mind. The animal must be extremely expensive for him to want this kind of a deal, but could she handle being on the road with Tucker for several days. "You're going to pay over twelve hundred dollars for tires for my rig in exchange for me pulling your trailer to Vegas."

  "Yeah. I've called all over the country. The closest driver is three days out. I have to get the bull to the arena quickly. I don't have time to hang around here."

  "Must be one hell of a big trailer."

  "He rides in style."

  "I can imagine."

  "Oh, one other thing."

  "I knew there had to be a condition or something. This sounded too good to be true," she grumbled, tapping her fingers on the table.

  "It's not something huge, Jacie."

  She leveled him with what she hoped was a don't-fuck-with-me look. "All right, what?"

  "I have to ride in the rig with you."

  "No," she snarled. "No one gets in my rig, but me."

  The waitress returned with their lunch. The hamburger she'd order sat on the plate in front of her open-faced. She grabbed the ketchup bottle, squirted a glob on her food, then returned the bottle to the spot near the window.

  "Do you have any choice here, Jacie? You need tires. I need to get my bull to Vegas. This is a win-win situation for both of us."

  She contemplated telling him to forget the whole idea, but she really needed those tires and she did need to get to Vegas herself. One French fry, then two, made it into her mouth while she tried to decide what to do.

  Attraction still sizzled between them. Desire burned in his eyes whenever their gazes met. It was almost a palpable thing between them. Her nipples puckered with the thought of spending several days with him. There would be no use denying the attraction between them, but it was bad practice to mix business with pleasure. Her relationship with Raymond and his unceremonious dumping, should have told her that.

  The beginning of her relationship with her ex started out business only but quickly developed into more when she fell into bed with him. Everything went to hell when his supervisor at the trucking firm found out they were lovers and cancelled her contract. The company didn't condone relationships between their drivers and warehouse workers. Too many possible ways their interaction could influence the contracts between her and the company since Raymond ran one of the biggest warehouses in Phoenix.

  The sound of Tucker's voice brought her thoughts back to sitting across from him listening to his proposition.

  "Where were you going anyway?"

  "I'm headed to Vegas myself," she replied, focusing on her hamburger again.

  "See! It's perfect then."

  "I have my mare with me. I can't pull my trailer and yours at the same time."

  "What are you headed to Vegas for?"

  "NFR. I'm competing in barrels. I plan to stay with some friends."

  A low, slow whistle escaped his lips. "You must be good. Not too many people get to Vegas."

  She shrugged her shoulders as she studied her food.

  "I know," he said with a snap of his fingers. "You can put her in the trailer with the bull. It's dividable and padded. I'll even pay for gas."

  Damn. He must be desperate, but then again if the bull is in the running for Bull of the Year, there is a lot of money to be made for the owner.

  "But that means leaving my trailer here and leaves me no way to get my mare home from Vegas after I'm done."

  "We'll figure something out. I'll need to get the bull home too, afterward."

  She frowned, worrying about how to possibly make this work. Staying in Vegas until NFR was over wasn't in her plans. Staying in a hotel for two weeks wasn’t an expense she could afford. She didn't have the kind of money it would take.

  After a moment, she said, "I'd have to see this trailer first. I need to make sure there wouldn't be a problem for her. You do realize it will take three days to get there with rest stops."

  "Yes."

  "I can sleep in my truck."

  "My trailer has sleeping quarters," he replied, finishing his own meal and pushing his plate away. "You have to admit, it would solve both of our problems."

  Can I deal with him in my rig for two days? Do I have a choice here? "Where's your trailer?"

  Her stomach clenched as his lips lifted in a sexy smile and his baby blues sparkled with undisguised lust.

  "There's an RV park about a mile away. I'm parked there so I could hook up to utilities."

  "How the hell did you get it there if the guy wrecked his rig?"

  "The tow truck."

  "Damn."

  "Yeah. It hasn't been a pretty thing. I've been pulling my hair out trying to find a big rig driver in this little town." He reached across the expanse of the table to grasp her fingers. "Come on, Jacie. You need me. I need you. Sounds like the perfect partnership."

  Electricity zinged up her arm from where he held her hand and she wasn't sure she liked it.

  Need is an awful strong word.

  "We can take a cab over to where my trailer is so you can see it."

  "All right." She heard herself agreeing as she pulled her hand out of his.

  The waitress returned with their tab and he grabbed it before she could get it to see how much hers came to.

  "I’ve got lunch."

  The thought of letting him pay for her meal didn't sit well with her. "I'll pay my own way, Tucker."

  "It's fine. Lunch was my idea anyway, so I'll pay for it. We can get our own meals on the way to Vegas."

  "I haven't agreed to this…yet."

  His sexy smile returned along with the arch of his eyebrow. She felt like slapping that tolerating look off his face. He obviously is used to getting what he wants when he wants it.

  After a heavy sigh, she slid out of the booth to head for the door with him following close on her heels. He pulled a cell phone from the front pocket of his jeans and flipped it open.
Sad to say, he seemed to have the cab company on speed dial, since with one push of a button, she could hear him telling them where to pick them up.

  "A car should be here in a few minutes," he said, snapping the phone shut.

  "Good." She looked to where her rig sat with its flat tires and rage raced through her again.

  Tucker must have noticed where her gaze had strayed to. "What happened to your truck anyway?"

  "Our friend Kyle."

  "Excuse me?"

  Dropping her gaze to the ground, Jacie pried a piece of loose pavement up with the toe of her boot and kicked it back and forth absently, debating on how much she wanted to reveal. "Oh, he didn't come right out and say it, but he hinted around it enough. He slashed my tires. I would assume in retribution for dismissing him last night and you coming to my rescue when he tried to force himself on me outside."

  "Kyle cut your tires."

  "Yep. And started to proposition me about getting new ones."

  "No wonder you were hesitant to even talk to me about some kind of a deal."

  The cab pulled up minute later, and Tucker held the door for her until she slid inside.

  Once they'd settled side by side onto the seat, his warm thigh pressed tight against hers, heating the skin beneath her jeans to sizzling temperatures. Thoughts of having him skin to skin, made her shiver until she shook her head to dispel the arousing images.

  Everything from Garth Brooks to Josh Turner blared from the cab’s radio on the short trip to where Tucker’s trailer sat. The cab lurched to a stop next to what was obviously a top of the line livestock trailer at least fifty feet in length.

  "Damn," she whispered in awe.

  "I told you. My bull rides in style."

  "I'd say so," she said, climbing out of the car. She whistled softly in appreciation as she stepped to the back end, peering inside.

  The upper-deck slant load trailer had more chrome than anything she'd ever seen. Each section had custom deluxe stall pads, along with a spray-on floor lining to prevent slips.

  "Let me show you the inside, but you'll have to excuse the mess. It is a bachelor's quarters after all," he told her with a grin.