by Becky McGraw
Tina strode behind him, but even injured the man’s long-legged stride was hard for her to keep up with in heels. “But Hope said—“ Tina started, but she made a step into the arena, her heel caught on the edge of the concrete pad and her ankle twisted painfully. With a yelp, she felt herself flying forward. She threw her hands out to catch herself, but her palms hit Dean Dixon in the middle of his back and he went flying too. They landed in a heap on the dusty floor with her on top of him. Dean immediately rolled to his back, and Tina scrambled up to straddle him.
Before she could stand, his hands gripped her hips in a steel hold. “The best thing you can do is leave,” he ground out angrily. “There won’t be anything shot here today, except you if you don’t get the hell off my ranch.”
As hard as his eyes were right then, Tina could almost believe he meant those words. The last thing she needed was a confrontation with Cord’s brother, or to cause problems for Hope.
“I’ll just stop by the bunk—“
“You’re not going to shoot anyone, Dean,” Cord interrupted angrily, as he stopped beside his brother to stare down at them with his hands on his hips. “I just talked to daddy and he’s fine with it. Texas Tomboy is paying us to use the ranch for their shoot location, and we need that damned money.”
Dean’s eyes narrowed. “Well I run this place, and you didn’t talk to me,” Dean replied through tight lips. Tina tried to stand again, but his fingers tightened on her hips.
Cord didn’t blink. He faced his brother’s glare head on. “If you had let me talk last night, I would have told you. Maybe if you’d shut up long enough to listen now and again, you would know,” he spat as he extended his hand to help her up.
Tina took his hand and tried to stand, but a sharp pain shot through her ankle and she moaned. Dean’s arms closed around her waist, and it was like the brothers were having a tug-of-war with her. “Let her go,” Dean grumbled. “She hurt her damned ankle in those stupid heels.” His eyes moved to hers and Tina saw disgust there. “What woman in their right mind wears high heels into a barn?”
He was right, Tina decided. She was totally not in her right mind to be out here in the middle of this obvious battle of wills between the brothers. She would just have to find somewhere else to shoot.
“I’m leaving,” she said, trying to pull away from Dean to stand again, but his fingers only tightened on her hips. Dean sat up with her on his lap, and Tina put her hands on his firm chest to push away. He muscled his way to his feet holding her against his hard body. Tina had no choice but to grab his neck, or end up on her ass in the dirt.
Dean Dixon carried her back down the hallway to the office. He kneed open the door and carried her to the chair where he’d been sitting earlier where he sat her down. Tina tried to stand, but he put his hand on her shoulder. “Stay,” he growled as if he she were a dog.
He stomped behind the desk and bent to open a drawer, pulled out a rolled bandage and slammed it down on the desk. Kneeling in front, he grabbed her calf and balanced her foot on his thigh. Dean gripped her calf tighter, and darts of tingly heat shot up her thigh as he carefully removed her shoe.
Cord came in and Dean glanced up to growl, “Make your damned self useful. There’s a pair of Mama’s rubber boots in the tack room. Go get ‘em.” It seemed like the man loved to growl, and issue orders. He wasn’t very pleasant. Tina was going to steer clear of him while she was here. She had no idea how Cord worked with the man.
Cord shook his head as he disappeared through the office door. Dean took the bandage from the desk and unrolled it, then laid the end against her ankle.
“I don’t need that,” she protested, and tried to pull her foot away. His fingers became a hot vice on her ankle. The tingly heat turned into fire that shot up her leg to the top of her thigh, teasing the nerves there into a frenzy. Tina wiggled in the chair trying to settle them.
“Hold still,” Dean growled, and Tina relaxed as much as she could. He made a round around her ankle with the stretchy bandage. “It’s swelling, and if you don’t put this on it, it will only get worse. Get some ice on it at the bunkhouse too.”
It was damn tough, but Tina gritted her teeth and sat perfectly still. “Yes, sir,” she replied sarcastically, and he looked up at her. Was that actually a fleeting smile she saw at the corner of his mouth? If so, that would shock the heck out of her. This man’s personality, his whole demeanor, wasn’t that of a man who found humor in much. Tina liked funny guys who could laugh at themselves, at life. This man wasn’t her type at all. She didn’t even like him. But dammit if he wasn’t turning her on, even as impersonal and prickly as he was being.
It had to be because she hadn’t had a man touch her in any way in nearly three years. Embarrassing to her, but understandable. Her sister was the one who had the luxury of getting laid every weekend. Because Tina stayed home and kept her daughter for her to do that.
Cord walked back into the office dangling a pair of ugly black rubber boots in his hand. He set them beside the chair, and Dean shot him a look, then wrapped the bandage around her ankle a final time as he mumbled, “Daddy says you can be here, so I guess that means you aren’t leaving. But you will not wear those shoes here again, it’s dangerous.”
He stretched the bandage to the side of her foot then secured the end with a silver clip. He lowered her foot to the floor, then stood. Tina looked up into Dean Dixon’s slightly weathered face, his haunted blue eyes that had a story to tell, and saw a person she never expected to find.
Her Texas Tomcat.
“I’ve got work to do,” Dean said as he spun and walked out of the door.
What the heck was she going to do? Now that she had Dean Dixon as the bar in her mind for Texas Tomcat, nobody else was going to do. Not the men who were showing up here in a few hours for the photo shoot, and not the hundreds of others she had considered. She would just have to figure out how to make Dean want to be the man to represent the line.
Somehow she didn’t think money was going to do the trick. Dean Dixon seemed like a pretty down-to-earth—no earthy—kind of guy. Which is why he was perfect for the job. He was damned good looking, but there wasn’t an ounce of flash to him. He was what he was and if anyone didn’t like it, they could kiss his ass. Watching that ass in those jeans walking out that door made her want to bite it instead of kiss it. It was perfection.
Cord shot her a sympathetic glance, before he followed right behind his brother out of the door. Tina sat there stunned, wondering why it had to be him. The odds of her convincing Dean Dixon to be her model were about the same as the odds of her being made president of Texas Tomboy. She’d be better off buying a lottery ticket.
With a sigh, she reached for one of the rubber boots that Cord had sat beside the chair. She slid her uninjured foot down into the long neck of the boot and found out the boots were about one size too big for her. Not surprising really. Not many women had feet the size of a ten-year-old girl. She grabbed the other boot and slid her bandaged foot down into the throat, flinching as pain shot up her calf. She picked up her shoes, then went out to get Laney out of the car. As they walked to the bunkhouse, Tina thought about Dean Dixon again.
Maybe Hope could help her figure it out later. Give her some advice on how to approach the totally unapproachable man. Right now though, Tina needed to talk to her about the photo shoot. She limped toward the porch in the too big boots, picturing photos in her head, but none of them included the two men who would be here at ten o’clock.
CHAPTER THREE
At ten o’clock her assistant and stylist, Belinda, and Paulo, her hair guy, showed up together. The models didn’t arrive until almost eleven o’clock. She helped Hope get her equipment out and sorted, but their organization went all to hell once Paulo and Belinda brought in their stuff in big duffle bags, and began laying things out.
“Get them their clothes so they can change,” Tina said to Belinda, casting a sharp look at the two men standing beside Paulo shooting the breeze.
They didn’t have time for breezes. Those guys were late and she was not happy. “Paulo make the hair quick. We need to get started. Half the day is gone now.”
“I’m sorry we’re late,” Brandon Sanchez said with an eye roll, as he took the jeans and t-shirt from Belinda. “He was late picking me up.”
“Because you didn’t answer the phone when I called,” Joshua Gleason snapped.
“Because I was in the fucking shower,” Brandon shot back.
“Because you were still in the bed,” Joshua corrected with some neck action, taking a step toward Brandon. “You had to shower when I got to your apartment, dude. Don’t you lay this off on me! Unlike you, I am a professional!”
All she needed were bruised and bloody models, and it looked like these two were about to go to fist city. “This isn’t accomplishing anything! Get your asses dressed!” Tina yelled just as the front door flew inward and Dean Dixon walked inside. He didn’t look happy.
“Where the hell is Cord?” he demanded.
Tina crossed her arms over her chest and asked, “How the hell would I know? It’s not my day to watch him.”
“Obviously it’s not your day to watch your kid either,” Dean shot back. “That girl has been bothering the crap out of me all morning!” He stepped to the side and pulled Laney inside the bunkhouse. Her lower lip trembled and it looked like the usually happy child might cry at any moment. Anger shot through Tina, as she unfolded her arms and walked over to Dean and pulled Laney away from him.
Tina stepped in front of her and pointed her finger at him. “For your information, that girl is my niece. She has a name and it’s Laney.”
“Well you need to keep Laney in here and out of the barn. She almost got stepped on by a horse. I don’t have time to entertain her, or make sure that doesn’t happen.”
Fear replaced her anger, and Tina guessed she shouldn’t have let her go out there alone when she asked if it was okay. Tina didn’t know a damned thing about ranches or areas that might be dangerous here.
“Fine. I’ll watch her closer. I’m sorry she bothered you.” Tina turned away from the man she was fast seeing was a big bully. But not really in this situation. He was right, there were large animals out there, and Laney was only six. She could have gotten hurt. Tina felt like the incompetent guardian he had all but accused her of being.
She took two steps but his gruff growly voice stopped her. “I’m not done.” Tina turned back toward him and raised a brow. “Who the hell is driving that piece of shit black convertible?”
“My assistant,” Tina replied haughtily, crossing her arms over her chest.
“It’s blocking my truck and I need to go to the feed store.”
“Daddy can I go to the feed store with you?” a little red-haired boy about the same age as Laney asked as he nudged his way past Dean into the doorway.
“No. Jeremy. Go find your grandma and tell her I’m leaving for a little while,” he said with frustration in every line of his big body. “I don’t have time to deal with you right now either.”
The little boy’s face fell, and his eyes dropped to the toes of his scuffed up boots. “I’m sorry, Daddy.”
“He can stay here with us,” Tina offered, feeling damned sorry for the little boy. It seemed like nobody was given a pass from Dean Dixon’s surly attitude. Not even his own son. “He’ll keep Laney entertained.”
“Like you watched Laney this morning?” Dean asked nastily. “I don’t think so. Jeremy, go find your grandma, and stay up at the house until I get back.” The kid nodded, and walked past his father onto the porch. Dean looked back at her. “I need that car moved now.”
Tina shook her head, and turned to go find Belinda who was in the bedroom laying out clothes for the shoot. “I’ll get the keys.”
Dean Dixon might be one of the best looking men that Tina had seen in a long time, but he was also the most snarly and sour. It was no wonder his wife had left him. According to Hope, that had happened three years ago and Dean had been bitter ever since. Well Mr. Dixon needed to focus that bitterness on the person who caused his pain, not the world in general, definitely not his son. Just like Laney deserved better from her mother, that kid deserved better from his father.
Working with him on this project became less and less appealing.
Maybe he wasn’t her Texas Tomcat. That imaginary man would never be rude to his kid like that. He was a genuine cowboy and cowboys just didn’t do that. They were good-hearted men who loved kids and animals. And they treated women with respect.
Her eyes traveled over Dean Dixon’s firm body, his square jaw with the beard scruff. But he sure looked like a real cowboy, and he was the best bet she had for getting that promotion. In the photos nobody would be able to tell that he was an asshole of the first order. They would just see an alpha male with experience who looked good in a pair of blue jeans. Hope was a damned good photographer, and she knew this man. She could find his good side. If he had one. Tina was starting to doubt that.
If she could even convince him to do it. Hope didn’t think so, but Tina wasn’t giving up yet. The best thing Tina could do was keep her mouth shut, and let Hope work her magic. Try not to antagonize Dean until Hope had a chance to talk to him. Telling him right now what she thought of him, like she wanted to do, wouldn’t accomplish that. Tina didn’t see Belinda in the bedroom, but she saw her keys on the dresser, so she jerked them up and went to move the car for Mr. Cranky Pants.
Dean sat in the truck staring at the dusty black convertible in the rearview as Tina Montgomery ground the gears on the manual transmission, but still didn’t find reverse. He needed to get out of here before the feed store closed at one o’clock. Cord was supposed to restock the feed room yesterday, but he’d been too busy, according to him. What he’d been busy doing, Dean had yet to figure out.
The gears ground again and the little car bucked, but didn’t move. Dean had enough, so he threw the truck into park and opened the door to go move the damned thing himself. Stopping beside the driver’s door he tapped on the window. “Get out,” he ground out.
Tina held up a finger to him, then pushed the hair on her forehead back with her wrist, before she tried to crank the car again.
Dean flung the door open. “Just get out!” he shouted, and her head rocked back on her shoulders, and her gray eyes widened. “I don’t have all fucking day!” Her left eyebrow lifted and she shot him a glare with her angry blue eyes, before she swung her legs out of car. He noticed she was still wearing the rubber boots. At least the woman had a little sense. But not enough to get the hell out of his way evidently. She just sat there staring up at him. Dean pulled the door wider and shouted, “I said get out!”
Tina Montgomery stood, put her fists on her hips then met his eyes directly. “Fuck you,” she said, so primly Dean almost laughed. He thought he might be hearing things. Surely this prissy little woman didn’t just say what he thought she had.
“Excuse me?” he asked with a disbelieving laugh.
She lifted her eyebrow higher, put her fists on her deliciously curvy hips then repeated very clearly, “I said go fuck yourself.”
Dean chuckled, and it looked like she got angrier.
She was so small, her neck was laid back on her shoulders like she was staring at the sky, so she could glare up at him. Unfamiliar laughter tickled his belly. If her eyes were a laser beam, Dean would be melted in a puddle at her feet. That’s how hot her eyes were when she got a little neck action going and said, “You aren’t the boss of me, and your attitude sucks!”
You aren’t the boss of me? How old was this woman?
She was the size of a child, but from her word choices, and her full breasts which were heaving with every agitated breath she took, he didn’t think she was that young. Until that moment though, Dean hadn’t realized just how beautiful his sister-in-law’s friend actually was. In the barn this morning, the dim lighting hadn’t done her justice. Standing here under the tree with shafts of late morning sun
setting the auburn streaks in her dark hair on fire, the soft light painting her skin a golden glow, and her anger making her cheeks rosy, Dean decided she was amazingly beautiful. As beautiful as one of the china dolls in his mother’s collection, which he realized she resembled.
And that damned full pink mouth of hers was calling to him. He’d like to kiss the sassy right out of it. Dean would bet it tasted just as good as it looked. Like moist, ripe cherries. She licked those lips and his dick stirred in a big way, which pissed him off. He didn’t have time for this. The feed store was closing soon.
Besides he should be pissed at her, not standing here daydreaming about kissing her. This tiny little woman with a mouth the size of Texas had just told him off. That was pretty ballsy, since she was the one getting in his way here. “Where did you learn to drive, sugar? Wal-mart special driver’s ed course?” Dean asked with a nasty snicker.
“I’ve never driven a stick before,” she answered defensively.
He huffed out a frustrated breath. “Give me the keys, and I’ll move it,” he said holding out his hand for them. She gnawed her lower lip, and he had the sudden urge to do the same thing. Dean jerked the keys out of her hand and opened the door.
“You’re not going to fit in there,” She screeched. “That car is a mini.”
Dean leaned down to gauge the odds of fitting himself inside, and realized she was probably right. He cursed and handed her the keys back. “Get your assistant to move it.”
“She’s busy. I’ll do it. I think part of the problem is these damned boots,” she informed, with a wave of her small hand toward the boots. “They’re too big, and I can’t get the clutch in far enough.” She sat back on the seat, and tried to toe off one of the boots.
After a minute, when she couldn’t remove them, Dean bent to grab the boot. He put his hand behind her knee to get leverage and she gasped. His eyes met hers, and he saw a look there he hadn’t seen in a woman’s eyes for him in a long time. Interest. Desire. His heart kicked in his chest, and she looked away.