Cowboy Country (6 page)

After dinner, she managed to snag the bill before he did and plunked down her credit card. "My turn."

"We've got a long couple of days in front of us, Jacie, for us to be worryin' about my turn, your turn."

A heavy exhale blew the wispy curls off her forehead and the amused chuckle that followed told her he knew exactly the thoughts rushing through her mind.

"Shall we?" he asked as they stood, his palm coming to rest on her lower back.

Compatible silence enveloped them as they made the short walk to the bar. A Garth Brooks' song met her ear every time the door opened. The parking lot sported more makes and models of pickup trucks than a new car dealership.

"Wow. This place is busier than it was before we went to eat."

"I'm not surprised. This seems to be the place to unwind around here," Tucker replied as he reached for the door.

"True."

"Let's see if we can find a table."

Lights swirled and flashed, cutting a psychedelic pattern on the ceiling—almost blinding her once they stepped inside. An elbow here or boot on her toe there, and she wanted to deck someone as they worked their way across the bar.

"Easy, girl," Tucker whispered next to her ear. His warm palm grasped hers as he led her toward the dance floor.

"What are you doing?" With a sharp tug of her arm, she stopped his forward momentum.

A confused frown crossed his face. "Since there aren't any tables at the moment, I thought we'd dance."

"Asking me might have been nice, Tucker. Maybe I don't want to dance with you."

His eyebrow shot up and a disbelieving little grin spread across his lips. The pad of his left thumb brushed between her eyebrows to smooth out what she figured had to be a frown. The almost intimate gesture wasn't lost on her. "Better," he murmured in her ear. "Your smile is much prettier."

The spicy scent of his cologne wrapped itself around her senses, spreading heat through her abdomen. His neck was close enough that one small movement and she could taste the salt of his skin. Something she had thought about several times over the last twenty-four hours.

When he stepped back, she couldn't help but sigh at the loss of the nearness of his heat.

He turned toward her as they finally reached the middle of the dance floor. His eyes glittered with the reflection of the bar lights, and the sexy smile had returned. He slipped his arm around her waist to pull her so close her breasts pressed against his chest. Desire raced down her spine and her nipples pulled tight, aching with the need to be caressed with his tongue—with his fingers. She wanted Tucker. No bones about it. The man could set her on fire with nothing more than a touch or a look. And his kiss? Holy hell!

Maybe I need to rethink this business partner thing.

The sway of their bodies to the beat of the song kept her need for him on high idle. Being this close to Tucker gave her no room to think beyond how lips felt against hers, how his body would feel taking her to new heights of desire and how much she wanted him.

"What are you thinking about?"

She tipped her head back to stare into his eyes, letting the pools of blue mesmerize her for a moment. Telling him where her thoughts had migrated to would give away the need to get between the sheets with him and she wasn't sure she wanted him to know yet. "Nothing, why?"

"You're tense. Either you're thinking or I'm stepping on your toes," he replied with a smile.

She slipped her tongue over her lips to wet the dry surface while she gathered her courage to renegotiate their deal. "All right. I was rethinking—"

"Well, well. If it isn't the bitchy trucker and her knight in shining armor," Kyle spat, stopping next to them on the dance floor as the song came to an end.

The band announced they were taking a break as the dancers began to shuffle off to their tables, leaving her, Tucker and Kyle standing in the middle of the floor.

She turned to face the annoying pain in the ass, gritting her teeth. "What the hell do you want?"

"Me? Nothin', honey. You didn't come back to the shop to get your tires. I thought maybe your bed partner changed his mind about paying for 'em."

"If you hadn't cut mine, I wouldn't have this problem in the first place, asswipe. And you're just pissed because Tucker is helping me, putting a real damper on the proposition you had planned, I’m sure. "

"It doesn't matter, babe, 'cause I ain't gettin' them tires for you no matter how much money lover boy throws around."

"Why you—" One step, just one and she would be close enough to drop the dickhead to his knees, but Tucker's hand stalled her motion by bracketing her wrist with his hand.

"You ride bulls, Kyle?" Tucker asked making his voice loud enough everyone could hear.

Wondering what he had in mind, Jacie corralled the need to stick her knee between Kyle's legs while she waited to hear what Tucker had to say.

Kyle glanced around nervously and narrowed his eyes into slits when his gaze returned to Tucker. "Yeah."

"I'll make you a deal."

"What deal?"

"My bull sits in the pen out behind the motel. We'll both ride him tomorrow morning. If you stay on longer, I'll pay you ten-thousand dollars for four tires."

The crowd around them on the dance floor went silent. Several people gasped.

"Ten-thousand?" Kyle squeaked, rubbing his chin.

"Yes."

"Tucker, don't. It's not worth it," she murmured, facing him. "We can figure out something else."

"Ssh. Let me handle this," Tucker said as he squeezed her fingers.

"And if you stay on longer?" Kyle asked.

"You'll order the tires and install them…free."

CHAPTER THREE

Tucker brushed his boots clean and adjusted his belt buckle as a saucy tune passed from his lips. The plan for this morning included either putting Kyle in his place and getting the tires needed for Jacie's truck or paying him and getting the tires. Either way, Kyle would be over a barrel and they would have what they needed before too long.

The night before had ended in frustration, leaving him with another set of blue balls. He almost hoped Jacie’s sleep had been just as restless.

He thought he’d had her wound up enough that she’d forget about the business partner only thing for the trip to Vegas, but apparently not. "Man, what I wouldn't give to get between those thighs."

After the Kyle incident, they danced close enough it would have been difficult to get a piece of paper between them and he had made sure she could feel every inch of his cock against her belly. He'd teased her unmercifully the whole night, but in the end, she had gone into her room, firmly closing the door between them, leaving him standing in the parking lot of the motel with a raging hard-on.

"I'll wear her down, I'm sure. We would both be a lot happier on this trip if we shared my bed instead of sleeping apart." A quick check of his reflection in the mirror near the door, told him things were in their proper place. His two fingers rode the brim of his hat while he tucked it down low over his brow.

Time to get this over with. They needed those damned tires ordered one way or another and were running out of time. The PBR World Finals started in less than a week. If he lost the chance for his bull to get the reining title of Bull of the Year, there would be hell to pay.

The sun had already started to climb into the mid-morning sky as he arrived at the motel several minutes later. A slow, soft whistle left his lips as his gaze stopped on the crowd forming near the small arena. More people than he thought this town held stood waiting around the pen where the bull snorted and pawed at the dirt.

"Hey, Tucker," Jacie said, coming up to stand beside him.

"Mornin'. How did you sleep?"

Her shoulder lifted in a nonchalant shrug, but he saw the tightness around her lips and dark circles under her eyes.

Good. She must have slept badly too.

"Okay, I guess. I'm worried about this crazy challenge of yours, though."

"What's wrong? Don't think I can win?"

"Hell if I know. Do you even ride bulls?"

He leaned close to her ear. "Every chance I get. I usually compete on the bulls I send to the Professional Bull Riders Association rodeos. I'm not top-ranked or anything, but I do all right."

If he wasn't mistaken, and he usually wasn't when it came to vibes from a beautiful woman, she wanted him just as much as he wanted her, but she wasn't about to let him know it—if she could help it. Her breathing came out in small little puffs of air as her heartbeat fluttered at the little spot at the base of her neck, giving away her reaction to him even if she denied it.

Two cowboys he remembered from the bar the night before, stepped forward to offer to help get things ready. He’d have them watch the ride in order to make sure neither he or the bull got hurt.

"Sure. Thanks. I appreciate the help," Tucker said, pulling the bull rope from his shoulder.

Apparently, this little arena must have been where Littleton held their own rodeos during the summer since there appeared to be a bull chute sitting in one corner.

"Kyle show up yet?" he asked one of the cowboys standing next to him.

"Nope. Ain't seen him."

"Wonder if he'll even have the guts to be here," the second cowboy said, holding out his hand. "Name's Jake."

"Tucker Marshall," Tucker answered, grasping the cowboy’s in a firm handshake.

"
The
Tucker Marshall? Are you serious? Tucker Marshall out of South Austin?" Jake asked as he pumped Tucker's hand vigorously.

"Yeah," he replied, shooting a glance at Jacie. His last name hadn't come up in conversation and he wondered what her reaction would be. He didn't have long to wait as she frowned, spun on her heel, and disappeared into the crowd.

"Well, hot damn! Nice to meet ya. You got some real hot bulls in this year's PBR."

He nodded toward the one in the pen. "This one is up for Bull of the Year, but I need to get him to Vegas."

"So you hooked up with the hot big rig driver, eh?"

Tucker shrugged one shoulder. "She needs tires. I need a driver. Works for us."

"It doesn't hurt she's one gorgeous woman either. I imagine a firecracker in bed."

"I wouldn't know."

"You ain't been between them thighs yet?"

"What has gone on between me and Jacie is none of your business, cowboy. If you'll excuse me, I need to get the bull ready," Tucker said, changing the subject.

"Oh, yeah, right."

It's not my fault she never asked. Besides, it shouldn't make any difference who I am, unless she's the gold digger type too.

Once the bull had been readied, he watched it bang against the metal of the pen while they waited for Kyle to show. American Bucking Bulls had become the premiere bulls for the Professional Bull Riders Association and Tucker had several in the circuit, but Lightning Strike had the best chance for a good career right now. His stud fees would go through the roof if he won.

Tucker knew he’d told Kyle ten o’clock, but it was already ten-thirty. Still no sign of his opponent. Jacie had failed to return too. He fisted his hands on his hips and kicked up some dust with the toe of his boot, muttering to himself. "Why the hell did she look so pissed off?"

His answer came from behind him. "She looked pissed off because you didn't tell her who you were."

The expression on her face made him pause. Her narrowed eyes and the lips thinned into a firm line were sure-fire signs she wasn’t at all happy with him. "You didn't ask." He reached for her hand, but she took several steps back, folding her arms across her chest. The movement forced her breasts tight against the front of her baggy shirt.
No mistaking her for anything but a woman with those curves.
"Listen, darlin'—"

"Don't you darlin' me, Tucker Marshall. You could have hired any damned driver this side of the Continental Divide. Why me?"

He yanked off his hat to rake his fingers through his hair. "Because I felt like helping you. Helping you helped my situation too. I needed a rig to pull the trailer. You needed money for tires. I told you earlier I couldn't find a driver who could be here in less than three days. Correct me if I'm wrong here."

"I don't need your charity," she spat.

"It's not charity, Jacie, it's a business deal. I realize I never mentioned my last name before, but does it really make that much of a difference?"

The toe of her boot tapped an irritated rhythm and she didn't look like she would give him an inch. "I guess it doesn't, but you should have told me. I don't like being left in the dark."

"If you would have asked, I'd have told you. It's not like I tried to keep it a secret."

The next thing he knew, people started to part in a wave. He looked over her shoulder to see Kyle walking in their direction.

It's about damned time.

"Kyle," Tucker said.

"Finally,” she said, clearly exasperated. "Can we get this crap over with, get the tires, and get the hell out of here?"

"I'm working on it, darlin'," he said, purposely using the little endearment.

Pink rushed into her cheeks. He could tell she clenched her jaw by the tick appearing and disappearing in her cheek. "We can work on your frustration in a little while," he murmured, with a quick brush of his lips against her ear. "Did you bring your bull rope, Kyle?" His gaze swept over his competitor, knowing Kyle probably didn't even own one.

"Uh…no. I'll use yours."

He stopped in front of Kyle. "Truth here, buddy, you ever been on a bull?"

"Yes," Kyle spat.

Tucker shook his head and watched Kyle head toward the bull chute as he followed. The guy would be lucky if he didn't get hurt or killed.

Lightning Strike rolled his eyes and butted his horns against the metal railing. Huge, solid white and mean as a rattler, the animal struck fear in every rider on the circuit. The average buck off time for him was four point six two seconds, and he carried a hundred percent buck off rate this year. Every rider knew you didn't mess with Lightning Strike. With a horn span topping ninety inches, cowboys watched those pointed death spears like a hawk on the trail of a rat. One wrong move and the unlucky man would be shish kabob.