Come and Get It (10 page)

“
I know how he does it.
He’s like a golden god come to life and when you look into his
eyes, it’s like you’ve known him forever. He’s . . . Prince
Charming.”

Quin chose that exact moment to put in
an appearance. “Who’s Prince Charming?”

“
New guy on the crew,” Hugh
said. “One of my wife’s cousins. He’s a pretty boy like you but
he’s Texas through and through.” His gaze swiveled to Dixie. “You
know, Rita Mae would probably let me go if she knew you was gonna
be there.”

“
Why not?” Prince Charming
was going drinking tonight at the Stumble Inn. “I got my iPhone, we
can follow him around and see how many women he puts into a swoon.
I mean, seriously, how many could there be?”

Hugh chuckled. “He had you befuddled
and tongue-tied.”

Dixie could tell Quin was waiting
around for Hugh to leave, though there was no sign that was going
to happen anytime soon. Dixie bumped shoulders with her friend.
“Come on, sugar, help me clean up and I’ll call Rita Mae and tell
her I need”—she glanced at Quin—“a bodyguard tonight.”

Hugh laughed and gathered up the
remnants of his meal. “She’ll get a kick outta that for sure.” He
gave her a shoulder squeeze. “Come on, darlin’, let’s get you
cleaned up and outta here.”

Quin stepped in front of her. “Can I
get a moment of your time, Rose?” When she scowled, he quickly
amended. “Sorry, Dixie. Can we talk for a minute?”

She looked at her watch. “Sorry, I’ve
got to get to my next site.” She sidestepped Quin and picked up the
coffeepot and pitcher again, then raised her voice to say, “Time to
get moving, guys, I got one more job site to get to before I call
it a day.”

Good-natured grumbling ensued as the
men dumped plates and cups in the trash receptacles and started
breaking down the folding tables. Quin hung around in the
background, probably hoping to catch her after the men went back to
work. Dixie stifled the urge to laugh as the guys thwarted him by
standing around until she climbed into the cab of her
truck.

She keyed the ignition and put the
truck in gear, rolling down the passenger-side window. “I’ll see
you later, Hugh. Gonna call Rita soon as I’m done
today.”

Hugh grinned and gave her a thumbs-up.
Standing next to Hugh, Prince Charming wore a knowing smile. Too
bad she had no intention of actually going to the bar.

* * *

Dixie was watering her climbing roses
when she heard the sound of a pickup heading up the lane to her
house. She looked up, praying it wasn’t Quin. She wasn’t ready to
talk to him about the nasty message his L.A. woman left on her
machine. She’d listened to it several times. A bumpkin. Quin had
referred to her as a bumpkin to his fancy California friends. Ellie
Mae Clampett. A woman not up to his standards. He’d denied using
those words, and maybe he hadn’t, but he certainly hadn’t denied he
thought she wasn’t good enough for him.

She’d cried herself to sleep last
night and though she was reasonably sure she was all cried out, she
wasn’t ready to see Quin or listen to his explanation. All she’d
really wanted to do when she got home was take a swim in the river,
play with her dog, and care for her roses. So, that’s what she’d
done.

After her swim, she’d showered off the
river water and changed into clean clothes and spent a pleasant
hour pruning her roses. As Hugh’s truck pulled up next to the
house, she dropped her pruning shears in her gardening basket and
waved. Hugh, Rita Mae, and the golden god all piled out of the
truck.

“
Figured you’d back out
once you got home,” Hugh chided. “So we decided to come get you,
and Prince Charming here thought we all outta grab a bite to eat
before we head to the bar.”

“
Oh, God,” Dixie said in a
strangled voice. “I cannot believe you said that.” Dixie shook her
head. “I’m not exactly dressed for public consumption here,
y’all.”

Rita Mae snorted. “Tell you what,
sugar, you look hot in whatever you wear. Just go put on one of
them sundresses you love so much.”

Prince Charming smiled. “You’d look
good in a gunnysack, Miss Dixie, and I’d sure be pleased if you’d
come on out with us tonight. I’m itchin’ to cut a rug and I need a
partner that ain’t my cousin.”

Dixie laughed. “How can I say no to an
original line like that? Gimme a minute to change.”

Chapter Eight

Quin didn’t know how long
Dixie had been at the bar but she certainly seemed to be having a
good time
—
if her
laughter was any indication. The place was filled with musicians
and instruments, all milling around, waiting for their chance to
audition. The locals mostly sat around drinking draft beer,
chatting, playing pool. As Dixie was doing with her friends and the
man she referred to as Prince Charming. Quin struggled not to curl
his lip in disdain.

Who did the guy think he was, flirting
with Dixie, touching her arm, tucking a stray lock of hair behind
her ear? She made some comment that made the guy laugh and he took
off his straw cowboy hat and put it on her head. She grinned up at
him, shook her head, and leaned over the pool table to take her
shot. The woman had a spectacular ass.

Quin had never considered himself a
jealous man. Well, not since his college years. After having his
heart stomped on, he’d refused to let himself get involved with a
woman long enough to get emotionally involved. Perhaps he’d allowed
himself to get too close to the Texas beauty, but sitting at the
bar watching her smile and laugh at another man’s jokes was tearing
him apart. Time to leave this dump. Dixie would do what she wanted
to do and he had no right to dictate to her. Besides, he didn’t
think she was really interested in Prince Charming. She was just
out with friends having a little fun. She was a hard worker, she
was entitled. He drained his beer and headed for the door. Maybe he
could go someplace else, a bar in Kerrville, and pick up someone
for a one-nighter. As soon as the thought entered his head he
dismissed it. He didn’t want anyone but the petite blonde spitfire
flirting with another man. The situation completely
sucked.

* * *

Dixie woke with a start. Someone was
banging on the front door. With a groan, she rolled out of bed,
flipped on the porch light, and peered out the side light window.
Quin? She looked at the clock. Four in the morning. What the
hell?

He never gave her a chance to speak.
The second she opened the door he lifted her off her feet, his
mouth swooping down to cover hers. It was a kiss of pure possession
and she was helpless against the searing heat of his need. He
kicked the door shut and she wrapped her legs around him as he
headed for the bedroom.

“
Rose.” His voice was a
fierce rasp as he tossed her on the bed. He made short work of the
plaid boxers she wore to bed and hauled her to the edge of the bed.
She gasped as he roughly shoved her legs apart and settled his
mouth over her.

“
Oh, God!” Her body arched
and she cried out as two fingers slid into her wet heat. The
assault on her senses drove her higher and higher. She came hard
and fast, with a lustful screech, then fell back onto the
mattress.

“
Not done,” Quin growled,
fumbling with his jeans. He didn’t bother taking them off, simply
shoved them down and entered her with a fevered thrust, forcing
another brutal orgasm. He kept pumping as her body tightened around
him and she sobbed his name. His own release followed on a
triumphant shout and he collapsed over her.

“
Oh, shit,” she groaned. “I
think I love you.”

He lifted his head, met her
heavy-lidded gaze. “Ah, Rose, you turn me inside out.”

Dixie closed her eyes. What
had she done? She’d uttered the very words guaranteed to drive him
away. She watched warily as he gained his feet. Would he leave
now?
God, please let him
stay
.

He undressed and climbed into bed with
her, drawing her against him. Snuggled into the nook of his
shoulder, Dixie fell asleep. When she woke, Quin was
gone.

* * *

Dixie pulled up to the job site and
began her usual routine. Quin’s truck was noticeably missing. It
was no more than she’d expected. He’d told her he wasn’t looking
for love. She’d made it easy for him, pretending to be asleep as he
dressed and left. His note was short and sweet:

Dixie,

I’m truly sorry to leave
you this way. I’m not the love and marriage kind of guy, and you
deserve someone who will give you everything you want, and more.
I’ll never forget you.

Quin

As usual, Allen came out to help her
set up. “You know he’s gone, I reckon.”

Dixie offered her usual cheerful
smile. “There was never any doubt in my mind, Allen.”

“
You all right?”

“
Of course I am, sugar. I
knew what I was getting’ into.” She cocked a hip and shook her
finger at him. “Sometimes girls just wanna have fun, too. I had my
fling, it’s over, and I’m ready to go back to business as
usual.”

Allen looked at her suspiciously. “If
you say so, Dixie, but it don’t hardly seem right, him sneakin’
outta town like he done.”

“
He didn’t sneak, Allen. I
held the door for him and pointed him west.”

Allen laughed. “All right, girl. Let’s
get you set up for the lunch crowd.” He began setting up the tables
while she unfurled the awnings. “What’s good today?”

Dixie shot him a grin. “It’s all good,
sugar, but I made that corn chowder you like so much, and those
chunky dill chicken salad sandwiches. Daisy Jean and I made the
rosemary and sun-dried tomato rolls.” She could almost hear his
stomach rumble when she stepped inside to prepare his
lunch.

Once again, hammers and saws fell
silent and Allen said, “Here comes the thunderin’ herd.” Just like
every other day, she leaned out the window and hollered, “Come and
get it!” If she felt a little down, a little less bright and
optimistic, it never showed. She was the same old Dixie these men
had come to know and love. None of them needed to know she cried
herself to sleep.

* * *

Quin paced his loft apartment like a
caged animal. A month had passed and he still couldn’t get Rose off
his mind. What a coward he was, sneaking out of her house in the
middle of the night, leaving that lame-ass note. He wouldn’t blame
her if she never forgave him.

Since his return to Los Angeles, he’d
dated several women. Any one of them would have willingly slept
with him, but he quickly discovered he didn’t want them. He wanted
his little Texas Rose. He strode to the phone, hand hovering above
it, then balled up his fist and turned away with a curse. Who was
he kidding? If he called her, she’d only hang up on him, which was
no more than he deserved. He turned back around and grabbed the
phone, dialing her number.

“
You’ve reached 555-4273.
I can’t take your call at the moment but if you’ll leave a message
at the tone, I’ll get back to you. Thanks, and have a blessed
day.”

Quin nearly tossed the phone across
the room. Instead, he took a deep breath and started to talk. “I
know I’m probably the last person in the world you want to talk to
right now, but I just . . . I can’t stop thinking about you, Rose.
If you’re there, will you please pick up?”

Was she there, he wondered, sitting by
the phone, listening to his plea that she talk to him? He could
almost picture her, looking at the answering machine as if it were
a coiled snake, hitting replay and erasing the message, erasing him
from her life.

She would find someone else, he knew.
Some cowboy like her late husband, or one of the many construction
workers who mooned over her on a daily basis. He had barged into
her life and reawakened her to the joys of having a man in her bed
again. Quin didn’t like the idea that the man in her bed wouldn’t
be him.

Jesus Christ, I love
her.

The how and when of it didn’t matter.
The only thing that mattered now was that he tell her how he felt
and beg her to forgive him. Nothing meant anything if he didn’t
have Rose there to enjoy it with him. Not the big-money job, the
fancy apartment, and especially not the sleek, sophisticated women
he’d always been drawn to in the past. None of them could compare
to Rose. He nodded. Actions spoke louder than words.

* * *

Dixie and her sister Rebecca Lynn had
arrived early for the Cowboy Show, setting up in time to serve
breakfast. While she would have preferred to serve a healthy
breakfast, Dixie knew her neighbors. Eggs, bacon, home fries, and
pancakes was what they wanted, so that’s what she gave them, saving
the healthier foods for the lunch crowd.

The breakfast shift was fast and
furious, and Dixie barely had time for a break. She and Rebecca
Lynn had fried dozens of eggs and pounds of bacon in the sweltering
Texas heat. The catering trailer was air-conditioned but it didn’t
help much, what with the exhaust fan running over the griddle and
the take-out windows open.