by Becky McGraw
The thumb on his left hand, which rested on her midriff worked slow circles there and that was definitely not relaxing to her. It was irritating. If he wasn’t interested in her, why was he holding her so tight to his body, she wondered. Definitely closer than he needed to be to give her the correction. Or was she imagining things again? Like when she thought he’d been about to ask her out. And was she wishing that he would ask her out, so she could get on her way to forgetting Ryan Easter? Because his touch sure hadn’t started the wildfire in her body that she expected. A few pleasant flutters, nothing more. Not good news at all.
She pulled her hand from his, and spun around to face him. Randy looked at her a little strangely, but quickly recovered. “Um, let me get the balloons reset and you can try again.”
He turned to walk off, and Twyla couldn’t help but admire the view. Randy was definitely a good looking man, and well-mannered. What she couldn’t understand though was why his touch hadn’t caused the instant lust in her body that Ryan’s had done with one almost kiss when she was still a wet-behind-the-ears teenager. That just didn’t make sense to her.
She sighed and forced her eyes toward the barn. Movement, as someone dashed into a stall caught her attention. She could’ve sworn it was Ryan there for a second. But there was no way in hell he was out here. She had left him at the apartment. That again must be wishful thinking on her part. She had to accept that missing that man was going to be a part of her life for a good while to come. He hadn’t been gone a few hours and it had already started again.
Damn his black soul for making her want him. If Randy would just finally find his balls and ask her out, at least she’d have a distraction to get on the right track to forgetting him. Who knew maybe eventually she’d feel the same way about Randy. If she focused on him and forgot about Ryan Easter.
It was almost dusk when Randy walked her to her truck. She was tired, but exhilarated too. Their lessons today had really helped her. She made a run on Tango before they quit, and she’d hit every target. Her time hadn’t been fantastic, but she’d nailed every fricking target!
Randy said he was proud of her, and that meant a lot coming from him. That man was a Range Master at CMSA events and a level six shooter to boot, with several World Champion titles under his belt. He was also a damned good teacher. It was probably better if they didn’t muddy the waters between them by getting involved. She needed to quit hoping for more, and just accept his friendship. Her new career was what was important. Randy was offering her that. It was enough. She’d just deal with missing Ryan like she had since she left, by staying busy earning money to fund her new career and support herself until she got there.
When they reached the truck, Randy opened the truck door for her and stepped back. Twyla tossed her bag inside, then pulled her hat off and tossed it inside too. She slid the rubber band out of her hair and ran her fingers through it, then turned back to him with a smile. “Thanks for being patient with me today, Randy. I know I’m a klutz, and a dullard sometimes,” she said with a self-deprecating laugh.
He didn’t laugh, Randy frowned and grabbed her chin, tipping her face up to meet her eyes. The air between them got that thick quality again, and he just studied her for a moment. “There is nothing clumsy or dull about you, Twyla. You are a beautiful, talented woman and don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise. You’re going to get this, and I know you’re going to be good when you do. I don’t take on training people I don’t have faith in.”
Twyla got a melting sensation in the center of her chest and sighed. “I sure hope so.”
She was investing a helluva lot of money into this. If it didn’t pan out, she had no idea what she was going to do. She knew one thing though, dancing at the Crazy Cowgirl for an extended time wasn’t going to happen. That really wasn’t her scene. She was going to take that abuse as long as she could though, because it paid well. As long as she knew she would eventually be able to get out of that job, she could take it for now.
“Hope isn’t a way to win. You need to have faith in yourself too, honey.”
“I lost that about two years into my barrel racing career, when I figured out I’d never be a winner.” It was true. It seemed like no matter how hard she tried to be successful at anything, she always failed. At school, barrel racing, love—hell being a woman—she was always mediocre. Twyla was tired of being a middle-of-the-road kind of girl, but how in the hell could she possibly have the faith he wanted her to have that this attempt would be any different?
Randy’s fingers tightened on her chin and she felt the tension in his arm. His eyes darkened, and he swallowed hard. “Twyla, I like you,” he said suddenly, then let his hand fall from her chin, as he stepped back.
She noticed a tic at the outside corner of his left eye. He seemed like he wanted to say more, but the silence stretched. “Well that’s damned good, because I like you too,” she said with a laugh. “I appreciate everything you’re doing for me.” That’s when it dawned on her, she hadn’t paid him his lesson fee yet, and that’s probably why he was so nervous. He didn’t want to ask her for his money. “Oh crap, I forgot to pay you! I’m so sorry—just a sec!”
She turned to reach back inside the truck for her duffle, but his hand dropped on her shoulder. “I don’t give a damn about the money. You can pay me next week.” She lifted back up and met his eyes. “I wanted to ask if you would you go out with me. The bars are closed tonight, or I’d ask you to go have a drink with me…”
Her heart kicked then sped up in her chest. Randy evidently was interested. She hadn’t misinterpreted anything. “I’ve had enough of bars. If I never saw the inside of one again, I’d be a happy girl.” And that was the god’s honest truth. But Randy didn’t know she worked at the Cowgirl, and she wasn’t about to tell him. This man would probably think she was loose if he knew that. He’d definitely have a different opinion of her that was for sure.
“The lake is always open,” he replied with a shrug and hesitant smile. “You want to pick up a six pack and ride with me out there to talk?”
“That sounds like a perfect date to me,” she said with a wide grin. A perfect first date, with a near perfect man. Now, if she could just convince her body of that, she’d be in good shape. “I’d really like that…” Then a thought hit her. She’d promised Heather that morning that she would be home early this evening. They had a date with one of her regulars tonight. Twyla didn’t really want to do it, this was her only night off, but she needed that money.
It was too good to pass up.
“But? You’re not interested?” Randy filled in, his face deflating.
Twyla smiled up at him. “Oh, I’m definitely interested. But I have plans with my roommate tonight. Maybe next Sunday? I work all week.”
“Aren’t you off at night?’ he asked taking a step back.
Heat flooded her face, and she stammered. “Um…no, I ah, work nights.”
His eyebrows lifted. “What do you do?”
“She’s a stripper at the Crazy Cowgirl,” a very familiar gruff voice said as Ryan rounded the front of the truck. “So take a hike. She’s not your kind of woman.”
It had been him she’d seen dashing into that stall. He was following her! Spying on her! And now he was lying to Randy to boot.
“What the hell are you doing here, Ryan?” she growled pushing past Randy to shove Ryan’s broad chest. “I am not a stripper, and you are not my keeper! Get lost!”
He leaned down to put his nose to hers. “Thank the good Lord for that! You’re into so much trouble, even I can’t keep up with you. If your brother was here—”
Twyla pushed him again, and he staggered back. “Well, he’s not here, and you are not my brother, Ryan Easter.”
“Um, I’ll see you next weekend for our lesson, Twyla,” Randy said, and Twyla heard a new tone to his voice that sounded very near disgust. It definitely told her that Ryan had succeeded in running him off. Randy would never ask her out again, because Ryan made him thi
nk she was a loose woman. Trash. Anger pushed up her throat to fill her skull to the point she thought it might crack open.
Ryan grabbed her shoulders and his fingers dug into her skin. “Well, I’m close enough right now. Zack sent me here to see what kind of mess you’d gotten yourself into and bring you back. Now, you’re going to load your pretty ass up in that truck and we’re going to your apartment and loading up your stuff!”
He shook her a little to emphasize his words. Twyla narrowed her eyes, and balled her fist. “The only thing I’m loading is my pistol if you don’t get your hands off of me.”
Ryan evidently realized what he was doing, or he was afraid she would shoot him, which as mad as she was she very well might do just that. His face turned bloodless as his fingers relaxed, and he rubbed her shoulders a second before his hands dropped to his sides.
“I’m sorry, Twy—I didn’t mean to grab you.”
“You’re right you are sorry…a sorry sonofabitch,” she spat, as she turned and moved around the truck door to get inside and slam it. Twyla rolled down her window, and took a deep breath to get a grip on the urge to kill him. “The best thing you can do is get back in your truck and head back to the circuit. I don’t want you here. Tell Zack the same.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Ryan stood there a moment, dumbfounded at the way Twyla was acting. He watched her peel out of the parking lot onto the main road. As out-of-control as the tail end of that truck was as it lost traction in the loose gravel when she pulled out is just how out-of-control Twyla was right now too. She had lost traction in her life, was doing things the old Twyla would never have done in a million years. Like threatening to shoot him. The look in her eyes told him she would have if he didn’t turn her loose. Like dancing at a bar half-naked for money, and agreeing to go who knew where out in the woods alone with a man she barely knew.
Wild. She was as crazy as a wild mustang right now, and he needed to figure out how to rein her in. One thing was for sure, the tactics he’d used so far weren’t working. Ryan was no closer to convincing her to come back with him than he had been the day she left. He had to come up with a different plan of action or she was going to run right off the cliff she was headed toward. And he would lose her for good.
At least he’d been able to run that city-slick, sharpshooting cowboy off. What self-respecting cowboy wore pressed fucking jeans and a button down shirt out to a barn? The chaps he wore definitely hadn’t seen any work either. They were as clean and spit-shined as his damned boots. Hiding in that damned hot stall all day watching that man as he watched Twyla had been sheer torture. It had only taken him a few minutes to figure out that guy was after Twyla, working up to asking her out. The way he smiled at her, looked at her, and fucking touched her when he was supposedly giving her a lesson.
Ryan knew what lesson the man was trying to teach her, the same one he’d been fighting himself to keep from teaching her for years, and he wasn’t about to let that happen. There was no way he could stay hidden when the man put his arm around her to walk her out to the truck. He knew the moment had arrived, and he wasn’t about to stand by and watch it happen.
If not for his interference, they would probably be out by that lake right now making out. The thought turned his blood to ice water in his veins. That’s how damned crazy Twyla was right now. She would’ve gone out to the woods alone with a man she barely knew, maybe gotten raped or who knew what else. No matter what she said, Twyla did need a fucking keeper. She was off her lead now, headed straight toward disaster, if someone didn’t jerk her back to reality.
Zack had always been the one with the lead in his hand, but Twyla was a full-grown woman now, could do what she wanted. And Ryan was here, so he guessed he would have to be the one to figure out how to do that.
He’d temporarily turned her by telling Mr. Fancy Pants she was a stripper. At least that had gotten the uptight, obviously rich, asshole off of her scent. His description wasn’t that far removed from what Twyla was actually doing at that bar anyway. Flashbacks of her dancing on that bar seized his brain and cold chills zipped down his spine. If Fancy Pants saw what Ryan had seen at that bar he wouldn’t be walking away, he’d be running like his ass was on fire. He looked like his typical woman was refined and country-mannered. Twyla was as far removed from that description as a dairy cow in the midst of a herd of beef cattle.
Twyla was more Ryan’s type. Rough around the edges, sassy as hell and country beautiful. At least today she was, without all that damned makeup and the sexy clothes she wore at that bar. Today, he thought she was the girl he knew again, the same one who’d been mooning after him for years. The one he’d wanted for ten years too, but run from to keep the peace with her brother. To keep the family he so desperately needed.
Ryan couldn’t have been more wrong. He now realized that girl may very well be gone for good. Twyla seemed to be serious. She had finally given up the chase. The coldness in her tone with him told him that this wasn’t just about her being angry. She really was done with him and had moved on. I’m done.
A sharp pain shot through his heart and he rubbed it. He really believed she meant that now, and this situation was not going to be fixed with a little return flirting or a few smiles. It was like he’d lost every bit of power he’d ever had with her. Twyla was a different girl now. Ryan had to come up with a different way of dealing with her, or he was wasting his time here.
He was gonna lose her. It was time to shit or get off the pot, as his surrogate daddy, Mr. Taylor, was fond of saying. If he didn’t fix this soon, he’d have to go back to the rodeo without her, and Zack would not be happy. Ryan wouldn’t be either. Because that would mean he’d have to leave her here to the mercy of slick, calculating cowboys and her wild-ass crazy friend’s whims.
After that, the odds were he’d never see her again, except at occasional family gatherings. Because he’d be her brother. Just like he’d said he wanted for years. He’d have to watch her date other men like that cowboy, bring them to those gatherings with her, introduce them to her parents. Maybe eventually watch her walk down the aisle to marry one of them, while he sat there wanting to kill them both, eating his heart out, because he didn’t have the balls to upset the applecart and tell her how he felt about her.
No, that wasn’t happening.
Ryan only had two days left to convince her. But first he had to find her. As fast as she was driving when she left here, she could be halfway to Timbuktu by now. Ryan ran for his truck, and hopped inside and cranked it. He’d check the apartment first. She was dusty and sweaty from her day outside playing shoot-em-up with that cowboy, whatever the purpose of that was. He knew the first thing she’d want before she went anywhere would be a shower.
Even though he knew she wasn’t a girly-girl, flowers type of woman, Ryan thought that might be a good start to setting things right between them. He stopped at a grocery store on the way to the apartment and picked up a bunch of spring flowers, and a box of Twinkies. He made it to the apartment complex right at dark, and immediately zoned in on Twyla’s beat-up pickup parked beside Heather’s newer, black truck. He knew she hadn’t had enough time to finish her shower yet, and since Heather was there, if he went up and knocked he’d have her and her damned mace to deal with instead of Twyla.
It was better for him to park and wait a few minutes, he thought, finding an out of the way spot where they wouldn’t see him if they looked out the window. He pulled in and settled to wait a few minutes. Sliding down in the seat, he leaned his head back against the seat and closed his eyes. I have plans with my roommate tonight.
With those two, and Heather at the helm, there was no telling what those plans were. The possibilities made his stomach curl. Well, whatever the plans were, Ryan planned on canceling them. He and Twyla needed to talk, and that was going to supersede any plans she might have made with Heather. Ryan nodded a couple of times, but then the vibrations from a powerful truck engine woke him up.
He sat up in the sea
t and leaned forward over the wheel, as a fancy burgundy diesel dually truck pulled into a spot near the stairs. The one directly beside Heather’s truck. The door opened and a man in a suit, cowboy hat and shiny black boots hopped down. He reminded Ryan of that man on that show Dukes of Hazzard. What was his name? Oh yeah, Boss Hog.
Short, round and dressed to the nines, the man looked up at the upper floor, before he made his way up the stairs. His arm swung upward and Ryan noticed that he clutched a large bouquet of flowers of some kind. Must have a hot date with the little old lady that Ryan had seen come out of the apartment next door to Heather’s. Biting back a laugh, Ryan relaxed back in the seat, until he saw Boss Hog stop at Heather’s door to knock.
The door opened and Heather filled the doorway smiling at the man. He shoved the flowers at her, and she buried her nose in the bouquet. From all appearances, it looked like Heather had a hot date with Boss Hog tonight. Somehow that didn’t surprise him. She seemed like the type who wouldn’t have a problem with finding a sugar daddy. Well, Twyla sure wasn’t going to be following her lead there. Ryan would make sure of it. Heather leaned down and gave him a peck on the cheek, then invited him inside. The door shut and Ryan knew he’d have to wait until Heather left to go up there to see Twyla.
He relaxed back against the seat again, but then confusion claimed him as Twyla’s words popped back into his head. I have plans with my roommate tonight. He sat straight up. If Heather had a date with Boss Hog, how the hell could Twyla have plans with her? Flashes of her and Heather’s ‘act’ with the shot glass at the bar speared his brain to mix with the fact that Boss Hog was in the apartment with them and Ryan was out of the truck in a hurry.
“Sorry, Boss, ain’t happening,” Ryan mumbled as he slammed the truck door and strode toward the stairs. By the time he reached the landing he could hear his heart pounding in his ears. Just as he rounded the railing, the front door swung open and Heather walked out dressed in her dancing clothes, followed by Twyla, then Boss Hog. Twyla stood beside Boss, looking nervous while she watched Heather fish for her keys in the bag on her shoulder.