Tough Love: Back to Buckhorn

by Lori Foster

  “Take off,” Stack told him. “I don’t want to see you again today. And, trust me, you don’t want to see me either.”

  “But Tabby—”

  Anxious to end the contretemps, Vanity said, “I’ll tell her you had to go. No worries!”

  Leaving Phil to slump against the wall, Stack held out a hand to Vanity. Why the gesture felt so significant, she couldn’t say, but she hustled to accept, to lace her fingers through his. His hand engulfed hers. Gently. Securely.

  For a double heartbeat, Stack just stared down at her. Then, taking her by surprise, he brushed his mouth to hers. “C’mon, troublemaker.”

  He said it affectionately, but still, she had to protest. “You’re accusing me?”

  Stack snorted. “It’s too late to act all innocent now.”

  Okay, so, yes, she’d deliberately provoked him in front of his mother and sister. And she had teased—with the truth!—about the hunks at the rec center. She considered debating it when, as they exited the room, Phil muttered low behind them, “Asshole.”

  Vanity’s eyes flared, and she held her breath, but other than Stack smirking, nothing happened.

  Relieved that he didn’t turn back around and annihilate the man, Vanity again leaned on his shoulder. She adored all of Stack, but, wow, his shoulders were especially nice. Perfect, in fact. He was so big and strong and tall, she knew leaning on him would never be a problem. It was a wonderful feeling, and she hugged herself to his biceps.

  Still walking, Stack slanted his gaze down at her. “You are the oddest woman.”

  “Hey.” That wasn’t even close to a compliment.

  “It’s true.” He kissed her forehead. “I expected that whole scene to upset you.”

  “Naw. Clearly you had it under control. And clearly f’ing Phil is a problem.”

  He snorted. “That’s it, huh? All you’re going to say or do?”

  “Well, what should I be doing? Crying? Fretting? You’re not, so why would I?”

  “Cry, no.” He gave her a look. “But you know you’re dying to pry.”

  “Mmm...maybe.” She couldn’t wait to get him back out of the damned dress shirt and pants. She wanted to glide her hands over all that sleek skin taut over pronounced muscles, to feel the roughness of his body hair on her palms, to touch him and kiss him everywhere. “I figured I’d wait for a moment of weakness. Better odds of getting the truth from you that way.”

  Gently, he warned, “I don’t lie, Vanity.”

  The way he said that gave her pause. Inching into unknown territory, she asked mildly, “The truth is important to you?”

  His gaze sharpened. “Very important. I don’t tolerate lies.”

  Had he been the victim of untruths before? Seemed likely, which meant her methods might enrage him, even possibly alienate him. With uncertainty denting her confidence, she chose to watch her feet instead of his face. “What about lies of omission?”

  Though she didn’t look at him, his attention consumed her, and finally, unable to help herself, she glanced up and got caught.

  He kept his tone soft, which somehow made it more unyielding. “What have you omitted?”

  She wouldn’t compound things by saying, Nothing. That’d just be another lie. “Given the nature of our...liaison, there are many things you don’t yet know about me.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Like the fact you don’t cry?”

  “Right.” Then she amended, “At least not without really good reason.” A fresh breath helped get her back on track. “Mostly I was worried about you telling me to butt out.”

  “If I did, would you?”

  Well, shoot. Time to be serious. Stepping in front of him, she got him to stop. “I know I can be pushy. I’m upfront about that. But I try really hard not to pry, and I promise I’m not a gossipy woman. I hope I’m not too nosy, just...interested. And I am a good listener, so if you ever want to talk...” She let that hang out there.

  “That’s a hell of a list of accolades. No flaws at all, huh?”

  She blushed.

  He touched the wild pulse beating in her throat. “No need to sell yourself. Remember, I already bought in.”

  How did he make that sound so sexy? “Good. So you’ll explain your conflict with Phil?”

  “Forget Phil.” Stack leaned down and brushed his nose over her cheek, teasing a path to her ear. Once there, he whispered, “I want to fuck, not talk.”

  Oh. Well... Yes to that. She cleared her throat, but it didn’t help loosen the sudden restriction of carnal need. “I want that, too, of course.”

  “Of course.” He smiled lazily, and that smile further distracted her to the point she couldn’t think beyond the image of Stack naked and over her.

  To help her along, he prompted, “You have something to add?”

  Right, she did. But what was it? To give her brain cells a chance to regroup, she avoided Stack’s consuming gaze and instead stared at his chest. He’d left the snowy white dress shirt open enough that she could see his collarbone, and a hint of chest hair.

  He tipped up her face. “Exhaustion is catching up to you.”

  “No.” She released a tight breath. “I’m not tired.” Far from it.

  “You keep losing your thoughts.”

  Her mouth twitched. “Not really.” Going for total honesty, she admitted, “It’s just that I’m having a hard time thinking of anything other than you naked.”

  “Ahem.”

  They both turned to see Tabitha standing there, her grin enormous.

  “I can’t believe I just heard that. And, oh, God, no, no.” She lightly pummeled her own forehead. “That image needs to go away right now.”

  Stack laughed. “Did you want something, Tabby? Other than to cause a scene?”

  True, passersby were giving her very odd looks, as if she might be a psych patient who escaped her confines.

  Tabby glared at the curious people, but when she faced Vanity again, her cheek-splitting grin was back in place. “Not to break up this fascinating love-fest, but Mom is ready to go.”

  “Right.” Stack swung an arm around Vanity, edging her back to his side. “Sorry about that. We got distracted.”

  “Ha! You, brother dearest, stopped thinking with your head and started thinking with your—”

  Planting a palm in her face, Stack quieted her.

  Tabitha laughed and stepped out of reach. “Where’s Phil?”

  “Gone,” Vanity said, trying to recover from being caught in the hospital hallway seducing Tabitha’s brother while his injured mother waited on them. Oh, Lord, that was bad. Bad-bad.

  What kind of impression would she make on them? “I told him I’d let you know.”

  Tabitha started back to her mother, assuming they’d follow. “That’s weird. Where was he going?”

  Oh, crap. Vanity had no idea what to say to that. “Uh...”

  Stack filled in. “He left because I told him to, and you know it.”

  “Yeah.” Tabitha glared at Stack over her shoulder. “You’re always so mean to him.”

  “He’s lucky I don’t—”

  “I know, I know. You want to tear him limb from limb.” Tabitha waved off the possibility of such a dire consequence. “One of these days you two will get along.”

  “No,” Stack assured her. “We won’t. But hopefully you’ll wise up and dump his sorry—”

  “La, la-la, la,” Tabitha said, her fingers in her ears as she kept walking.

  Stack grinned at her back.

  Huh. Vanity looked from one to the other, and a warm, peaceful sort of contentment settled over her. The siblings understood each other and cared enough to tease their way through major disagreements. That was nice.

  “Now what?” Stack asked her. “You�
��re getting melancholy.”

  She huffed. “I’m not tired, not melancholy, not weak.”

  He tugged on a lock of her hair. “God forbid you be human.”

  “I was just thinking it would have been nice to have a brother or sister.”

  Tabitha glanced at her. “You’re an only child? Oh, how tragic.”

  Stack gave his sister a light shove. “Not everyone is saddled with a lunatic for a sibling. Nothing tragic in that.”

  No, Vanity thought, not tragic. But there’d been so many times she would have given anything for a sibling. “Yes,” she answered Tabitha. “I was the only one.”

  Which explained why she inherited everything from everyone in her family. If only they hadn’t all left her the same year. Not that they’d ever really been there anyway.

  When they were, there’d been no teasing, no laughter.

  And sadly, never enough love.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “NO.” THE HEAVY DARKNESS filling the near-empty parking lot carried sound over the damp pavement. From necessity, Stack kept his voice low so it wouldn’t resonate to where his mother sat in her car with Vanity helping her to get comfortable.

  Odd, how they’d bonded so quickly. He’d never seen that before, not that he’d brought many women around to meet his mom, but the few times he had—usually when a family affair required a date—she’d been politely distant and quietly critical.

  Not so with Vanity.

  In fact, Vanity had stepped seamlessly and effortlessly into the spot of doting daughter, a spot Tabby left unfulfilled.

  “What do you expect me to do?” Tabby didn’t bother keeping her voice low. Stack wasn’t sure she knew how to whisper, or when it’d be a good idea.

  Like now.

  In his best I’m-not-giving-on-this voice, Stack growled, “She can’t go home alone, Tabby. Forget it. If she can’t stay with you, she can come to my place.”

  “You’re never there,” she reminded him, throwing her arms up in another melodramatic display. “Just how do you think that’s going to help?”

  “I’ll work it out.” How, he didn’t yet know. But he wasn’t about to let her—

  “And who’s going to watch my dogs?”

  Slowly, he swung his incredulous gaze around to stare at her. Seriously? That was Tabby’s top concern? “Keep. Your. Voice. Down.”

  “Those dogs love her, and she loves them.”

  Feeling red-eyed and mean, Stack frowned at her. The growl went deeper, and meaner, when he reiterated, “Mom is sick and hurt. She can’t be your damned dog sitter.”

  “Then who? Because I have to work, and if I leave them alone in the apartment, they bark, and the landlord has already told me that if it happens again, I’m out. I can’t lose my home. It’s close enough for me to walk to work—”

  “You have a car.” He knew because he’d bought it for her.

  Her face pinched. “I’ve been letting Phil use it.”

  Oh, fuck, no. Phil had said they’d ridden in separately, but he hadn’t thought that much about it, not at the time.

  Sawing his teeth together, Stack counted to three, and then to five, and finally to ten before he thought he could speak reasonably.

  Letting the issue of the car go for now, he concentrated on the most pressing issue. “Why can’t fucking Phil watch the dogs?”

  Gasping as if he’d struck her, Tabitha withdrew. For only a second her bottom lip trembled, then she stiffened her mouth and her spine. “Phil helps a friend at a bar—”

  “Helps how? By drinking?”

  “—and he looks for work, you know that, but he—”

  “Jesus, Tabby.” Exhaustion suddenly hit him like a ton of bricks. Emotionally, physically. Vanity might be superhuman, but apparently he had some weaknesses. “Stop, okay? Just stop. We both know Phil isn’t trying to find a job.”

  “Is too!”

  He swept out an arm. “Everywhere I look, there are help-wanted signs!”

  Another gasp. “You can’t expect him to work at a convenience store or gas station.”

  Stepping into her space, enunciating clearly, Stack asked, “Why the hell not?” Phil wasn’t qualified for anything else.

  “I’ll watch the dogs,” Vanity said, drawing their attention.

  Stack and Tabitha both pivoted to see that his mother was back out of the car, a frown of pain on her face, one hand at her temple. Vanity supported her, all worried and caring and so damned appealing that Stack almost couldn’t stand it.

  “I’ll watch them,” she insisted again. “Problem solved. So how about you get your mother home?”

  Shit. Guilt slammed into the wall of tiredness. “Mom.” In a few long strides, Stack reached his mother and helped her get seated again. “Vanity’s right. You need to get home.” He hadn’t meant for the debate with his sister to get out of hand, but that’s how it usually went with Tabby. “I’m sorry.”

  “Me, too,” Tabby said, now wringing her hands with exaggerated worry.

  “You kids are stealing my line.” Moving slowly, their mother pulled her coat around herself more securely. “I’m the one who’s sorry. And really, I’m more than capable of seeing to the dogs. They’re content when I’m there. Other than feeding them and taking them out a few times—”

  “Not happening.”

  She treated Stack to a weak smile. “We can’t ask your new girlfriend to do it. Maggie and Norwood are like overgrown puppies. Very frisky.”

  Which was another good reason why his mother shouldn’t—couldn’t—handle them right now. But with Tabby looking so pathetic and needy, he didn’t say that aloud. “She’s not my girlfriend, and I’ll be the one watching the dogs, not her.”

  As she’d done from the time he was a toddler, his mother smoothed his hair. “I like her, Stack. I want her to be your girlfriend.”

  Beside him, Vanity said, “Thank you, Lynn! You’re so sweet.”

  That had his mom frowning. “Sweet?”

  “She thinks everyone is sweet.” Stack sighed. “I’ll watch the dogs, okay? It’ll be fine. I don’t want you to worry about it.”

  She struggled with her seat belt. “But you’re in an apartment, too.”

  Stack hooked the belt for her. “I’ll work it out.”

  “I have a house,” Vanity interjected, gaining everyone’s attention. “And I love pets. They’ll be fine with me, I promise. My backyard is even fenced.”

  Before Stack could again reject that idea, Tabby nearly jumped Vanity with her enthusiastic acceptance.

  “You’ll really watch them?” Bubbling with gratitude, Tabby said, “Thank you, thank you, thank you! They’re my babies and I love them, but good Lord, they’ve gotten big and they’re rowdy and playful. They only bark when they’re alone, I promise. They hate being cooped up inside. You’ll have to pick up some food. I was going to do that on my way home from work today, then Mom fell and—”

  “No.” Stack’s head almost exploded off his shoulders. His quiet voice drew more attention than his growls had. “Vanity is not watching your dogs.”

  “Not Mom, not Vanity... What do you expect me to do?”

  “Make Phil get off his lazy ass. Or hire someone. Or I’ll take them, but—”

  At his side in a heartbeat, Vanity stroked his back. “Stack, really, your mother needs to be in bed, and clearly your sister can’t deal with two dogs right now.” She turned to Tabby. “Your mother will go home with you?”

  “Of course. I work in the morning, but I’m only a five minute walk away, so I can still check on her as often as necessary. And Phil will be in and out.”

  “God help us,” Stack muttered.

  Protesting, Lynn said, “I don’t need anyone checking on me.”

  “Now, L
ynn, you know your kids will feel better knowing you’re okay.” After directing his mother, Vanity did more stroking along his spine. “I’m glad you’re nearby, Tabby. It sounds like the perfect solution.”

  Stack couldn’t believe how Vanity took over. Then again, he supposed someone should.

  Her hand slipped down to the small of his back, and she asked his sister, “When would you like for me to pick up the dogs?”

  Tabby fretted. “They’re at my mother’s still.” She took one pace away and muttered, “Probably destroyed her house by now, too.” Then she slapped on another smile. “I’ll give you her key and you can get them from there. But again, the food—”

  “I’ll take care of it,” Vanity assured her.

  Stack wanted to groan. “This is nuts.”

  Hugging him, likely placating him, too, Vanity said, “You and I can discuss it in more detail later, after Tabitha has gotten your mother home.”

  Tabby dug out the key and thrust it toward him. “Here you go.”

  When Vanity took it, Tabby hugged her so tightly that Vanity looked to be strangling. “Thank you so, so, so much. Seriously. You’re a lifesaver! A complete lifesaver. I don’t know what I would have done—”

  To shut her up and get her going, Stack pulled her away and steered her to the car. Vanity followed. “Drive carefully, and let me know if you need anything.” He thought to add, “For Mom.” Because Tabitha always, endlessly, needed something.

  Leaving the women to say goodbye, he crouched down at the passenger’s side of the car to talk privately to his mother.

  Through the signs of discomfort, she smiled. “Thank you for doing this, Stack. I swear, I’m more attached to those dogs now than Tabby is.”

  He hadn’t known that, but now that he did, he was glad Vanity had offered. “We’ll take good care of them, I promise.” He held her hands in his. “I’ll call you mid-afternoon to see how you’re doing.”

  “I’ll keep my cell on me.”

  “If you need anything, anything at all, I want you to call me. I mean it.”

  “I will.”

  He knew she wouldn’t. Damn. As needy and clinging as Tabby proved to be, his mother was the exact opposite. Independent to the point of being a martyr. He hated leaving her in his sister’s ditzy hands. Tabby could barely take care of herself, much less deal with Phil, two dogs and their mother. But she hadn’t lied; he was rarely home. At least at Tabby’s, their mom wouldn’t be alone.