The Blacker the Berry (5 page)

“Brother.” Christian corrected with a smile on his face. “And for the record, darlin’, I have no doubt at all that you can keep up.”

“Then come on, cowboy, show me what you’re working with.” To Russell’s disbelief, Tamara hooked her finger in Christian’s belt loop and led the grinning man to the dance floor.

The shock on Sandra’s face was almost commensurate to the outrage coursing through his system. They both watched in muted disbelief as Christian and Tamara joined the grapevine line and began to step and twist in time with the music.

The grapevine ended, quickly morphing into a two-step. But Tamara had no problem changing musical direction, following Christian’s moves as if they’d been dancing together for years. Their bodies swayed back and forth in a pantomime of sensuality.

“Well, isn’t she just full of surprises.” Sandra sniffed.

“You have no idea,” Charlotte said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she taught your brother…a few steps.”

“Hmm…now wouldn’t that be interesting,” Sandra replied.

No. Not at all. A wave of jealousy of disproportionate size hit Russell by surprise. It was a feeling he was unused to dealing with, especially with a woman who wasn’t his to claim. No. It wasn’t jealousy. It was annoyance and nothing more.

From what he knew of Tamara, she was a nice enough person, definitely way too nice to become involved with a snake like Christian. Besides, a man like Christian couldn’t possibly be interested in a woman like Tamara. He would only use her for his own twisted reasons, then leave her high and dry just as he had many other women before.

Russell wouldn’t even put it past the man to flirt with her just to get his goat. Christian had made it more than clear on numerous occasions that he didn’t want Russell with his sister. Maybe this was his way of getting back at him.

Yes, it was his duty, as a friend of a friend, to warn her before she took Christian’s flirting seriously.

Chapter Five

Tamara was tore up from the floor up. Her legs and thighs ached, and her butt felt as if she’d literally dropped it like it was hot. Country dancing wasn’t for the weak of heart—or flabby of leg, for that matter. Groaning, she eased down from the breakfast bar stool and walked over to the sink to rinse her cereal bowl out.

Before disappearing in his car last night, Russell had barked at her that they would be leaving first thing in the morning; then he drove off like a bat out of hell. Normally Tamara didn’t take orders from anyone, but since he was her only means of transportation back to LA, she was going to let him get away with it. This time.

For a reason only known to God himself, after dinner Russell had turned sullen and snappy. Two qualities Tamara didn’t deal well with.

As if her thoughts conjured him from the cosmos, Russell appeared at the doorway to the kitchen. Without a word of greeting, he stomped into the room with a surly expression on his face.

“Morning.”

He grumbled instead of replying. Refusing to be annoyed by his less than stellar morning persona, Tamara smiled, turning up the voltage. It was either kill him with kindness or the belt from his very waist. “I’ve already said my good-byes, so whenever you’re ready to go, I am.”

“Coffee first.”

Was that supposed to be a sentence? Tamara held onto her smile with a death grip, resisting the urge to roll her eyes like mad. “Fine, I’ll be out on the porch.”

“Fine.”

Muttering to herself, she walked out of the room and toward the front door. As she’d told him earlier, she’d already spent some time with Charlotte this morning. She was on bed rest orders from Ty after taking half a turn on the dance floor. Although she could sense her friend’s boredom already seeping in, Tamara knew the other woman would do as asked. Since they’d already spoken of her coming down the weekend after next, there was no need for a tearful good-bye. Unfortunately, it left her sitting outside by herself while Rumplestiltskin in there made his morning joe. Still, Tamara wasn’t going to complain. A free ride was a free ride. Besides, until last night, he’d been more than pleasant. The only thing she could fathom was that something must have happened while she was dancing.

The screen door squeaked open, and Russell’s footsteps rang out over the porch. Once again, he made his way toward her in silence, with a thunderous expression. She could only assume his cup of coffee hadn’t been enough to pull him from whatever funk he was in.

“I guess we’re ready to go?” She stood from her chair as he picked up her bag and began to clomp down the steps. Following along, she began to chatter. “I hope the traffic isn’t too bad on the way home. I think we’re leaving early enough, though, so we should be fine. If I can, I’d like to work on a few photos today while the light is still good.”

Russell stopped dead in his tracks, causing Tamara to run smack dab into him. “Ummf.”

Quickly turning, Russell grabbed a tumbling Tamara, stopping her from falling to the ground. “You all right?”

“Yes,” she mumbled as she stepped away. Tilting her head back, Tamara eyed him up and down, as if she was dissecting him. “Somebody erected a mountain in front of me and failed to mention it.”

Russell arched a brow. “You’re a talkative little thing this morning, aren’t you?”

Narrowing her gaze, Tamara placed her hands on her hips and took a threatening step forward. “Did you just call me little?”

“Yes.”

Tamara dropped her hands and grinned, all trace of irritation swept away on a dry breeze. “Thanks.”

He frowned for a moment, as if his brain couldn’t process her response and then shook his head and turned back toward the car. He unlocked the vehicle and then popped the trunk open to stow her suitcase. In the meantime, she situated herself in the passenger’s seat. When he opened the door and joined her in the car, she noted his thunderous expression had returned.

After seeing the less than cordial look on his face, Tamara instantly reached for her iPod, but paused when he shot her a look and gave a sharp shake of his head.

“Okay,” she said softly to herself as she placed her purse, iPod and all, on the floor between her feet. So much for disappearing into music.

He started the car, and they headed down the driveway. She glanced in the side mirror and watched the ranch slowly diminish in the glass as they drove away. They finally turned the corner, and she turned back toward him.

“Did you have a good time?” Although she’d been expecting some conversation, she hadn’t been expecting that particular question.

“This weekend? Yeah, it was a blast.”

Frowning, Russell glanced over at her. “I meant last night.”

“Yes. What about you?”

“Not particularly.”

“Oh, you and…what’s her name…Sally, Sarah…” Tamara hedged, even though she knew exactly what the other woman’s name was.

“Sandra.”

“Yes, Sandra.” Distaste instantly peppered her tongue. “Didn’t the two of you hook up last night?”

“No. I came home with you three, remember?”

“Yes, but you went out again.” Not that she noticed, or waited up to listen for the sound of his engine, which didn’t appear until hours later.

“I went by my house.”

“Oh.” Damn, did that come out happier than she intended? “That explains it, I guess.”

“Explains what?”

She didn’t exactly mean to say that aloud, but since it was out there. “Your funky attitude.”

“My…funky what?”

“Attitude. What happened, she wasn’t in the mood or something?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but no. That wasn’t the case at all.”

Ignoring the “any of your business” line, Tamara forged on. “Then what was it?”

“Nothing.”

“Please. I know a case of blue balls when I see it.”

“Blue ba—Good Lord, woman, are you always this forward?”

“Yes.”

“So I see.”

“Life’s too short to be phony.” It was the creed by which Tamara lived. She believed in honesty and integrity and in living life out loud. Her philosophy on life was one of the reasons she was often fired. She truly didn’t know how to keep her big mouth shut. “If I have a question, I ask. It makes no sense to me to wonder and hem and haw around things.”

“You have an interesting outlook on life.” Gone was the irritated look, and in its place was one of faint amusement.

“I don’t know if it’s interesting or not, but it’s mine,” she replied with a shrug of her shoulders. Tamara was used to people not getting her.

“Honesty isn’t a foreign language to you, is it?”

“Unfortunately, no.”

“I wouldn’t say unfortunately. I think it’s nice to know where you stand with a person.”

“As do I.” And with that in mind. “So are you going to tell me or not?”

“Tell you what?”

“What has you in such a foul mood?”

His expression stilled, erasing any hint of humor from his face. “I’m not in a foul mood.”

“That’s a matter of opinion.”

She watched as he attempted to wipe away all expression from his very animated face. Tamara was willing to bet Russell was a terrible poker player. Everything he felt and thought was written there for the world to see. And right now, she saw irritation. “Feel free to listen to your music now.”

Oh no he didn’t
. “Why, thank you, massa. I surely will.”

“Stop it.” He scowled. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

“I actually don’t know anything of the sort.” She might be gearing up for a battle here, but it was one she felt just might be necessary. “You like honesty, well, here’s a big healthy dose of it. You’re being a butthead, and I don’t like it. Which is a shame, because so far I seem to like everything else about you.”

Her words seemed to tame the beast roaming restlessly underneath his hard-as-a-shell surface. “You do, huh?”

“Yes, but I’m not afraid to fight a cowboy, so back up off me and just relax.”

“I am relaxed. Just a bit…” He rolled his shoulders and sighed.

He wasn’t getting away with that
. “A bit?”

“Worried,” he finished at last as if the words pained him.

“About?”

“You.”

Wow, she hadn’t been expecting that one. She sat back, momentarily rebuffed. “What about me?”

He grimaced. “I don’t know how to put this delicately.”

“Say what’s on your mind and worry about the niceties later.”

“Fine.” He took a hand off the steering wheel and ran it through his hair before continuing. “I think you need to stay away from Christian. It’s for your own good.”

Tamara blinked a few times, willing herself to wake up. What the hell was going on, and when exactly had they entered the
Twilight Zone
? After a few seconds passed and he didn’t laugh, she began to realize Russell was dead serious. “Say that one more time.”

“Christian,” he snapped. His hands tightened on the wheel until his knuckles were white. “You know, the guy you were rubbing against last night. He’s not right for you.”

“Not right for me what? To dance with? To take pictures of?”

“Take pictures of!” The car swerved to the side of the road as he took his gaze off the highway to stare at her.

“What the hell?” Her hand shot out to grab onto the “oh shit” handle as he quickly righted the vehicle.

“You asked him to pose for my pictures?” The words were clipped as if he was having trouble speaking.

“Uh, no. I asked him to pose for my pictures. Remember? You said no.”

He stiffened as if she’d struck him. “I did not.”

Tamara couldn’t close her struck dumb jaw fast enough.
In what crazy world was he remembering their conversation
? “Right, I think you said, ‘Hell, no.’”

“And so you go and ask the next fella that strolls into your sight?”

“Yes. That’s exactly what happened.” Not exactly. In fact she’d been a bit desperate to find some models, and Christian had seemingly arrived at just the right time. He wasn’t the man she wanted, but he would have done in a pinch. Still, if Russell was going to reconsider, she wasn’t going to mouth off and fuck it up. He was her first choice, after all.

“Well, I won’t have it.”

Her eyebrows shot into her hairline.
Okay, boy was losing his mind
. “You won’t?”

“Hell, no. No one’s posing for your pictures but me.” He shot her a quick look that left no doubt about his sincerity or his insanity. “Is that clear?”

“Crystal.” It took everything in Tamara to resist smiling. Charlotte was never going to believe this. Hell, she hardly believed it.

“Now when do you want me to show up?”

Tamara quickly did a mental check of her calendar. She wanted to get the pictures taken before whatever roofies Russell was on wore off. “How’s Wednesday sound to you?”

“Fine.”

Oh man
. Tamara didn’t have a clue what had changed Russell’s mind, but she wasn’t going to say a single word to change it back. She’d deal with his high-handed manner later, though. First, it was picture time.

* * *

What in the hell did he get himself into this time? Russell stood outside Tamara’s apartment door questioning his sanity for what had to have been the millionth time since Sunday. No matter how he looked back over the drive, he couldn’t quite point out exactly where his brain stopped working and his mouth went into overdrive.

This bullshit was all Ty’s fault. If he hadn’t asked Russell to pick up Tamara to bring her to Santa Estella, he would have never gotten to know her the little bit he did and become protective of her. And a man shouldn’t be held accountable for his feelings, or the way the stupid emotions made him act…or act out in this case.

“Idiot,” he muttered before raising his fist and knocking on the door. Even though he knew it was highly improbable, he hoped that for some reason Tamara wouldn’t answer the door. Then he could leave, with his conscience soothed and his pride intact.

The door swung open before he could dwell on his foolish dreams a second longer. “You made it.”

Unfortunately
, he said to himself, as he gave a lackluster half smile. “Yep.”

“Great.” She stepped back with a wide smile and gestured for him to enter. “Come on in.”

It was now or never, he thought with an impending sense of doom. This was going to be the last time he ever did a favor for anyone. Sighing, he stepped through the doorway, past an amused Tamara, into the apartment.

“Don’t look so thrilled.”

“I’ll try not to,” he said drily as he took in his first look of her place. It wasn’t an overly large space, but every square inch seemed to serve a purpose. The area traditionally used as a living room was set up as a studio. A camera was situated on a tripod and pointed toward a curtained area where a single barstool stood. There were lights and other photography equipment he couldn’t name situated about. It very apparent this was where Tamara spent her money. Russell didn’t know dick about photography, but he knew expensive tools when he saw them.

A sense of respect filled him as he nodded his head in approval and turned to face her. “Color me impressed.”

“I decided to leave the cheesy backdrops and wagon wheels for a later date.” She winked as she tossed his words ever so pointedly back in his face.

“I guess I deserved that.” Russell shoved his hands in his pockets and gave a light shrug of his shoulders. “I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: You, Ms. Tamara Holifield, are a constant surprise.”

“And you, Mr. Rusty Crichton, are stalling for time.” Tamara walked past him to a small island separating her tiny kitchen from the studio. “There’s no reason to worry. I promise I won’t bite.”

“Yeah,” he said following her. “That somehow doesn’t make me feel any better.”

She chuckled lightly as she opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of wine. Russell used the time to study her as she busied herself opening the bottle. She was dressed casually in a pair of jean cutoff shorts and a white spaghetti-strap shirt.

Like Saturday night, he found himself staring at the smooth, dark skin that peeked out at him from the clothing she wore. Her outfit wasn’t anything special, but he found himself attracted to the simplicity of it. No, not the clothes, but her. They just highlighted what he was finding attractive. Her smooth skin, large breasts, rounded ass. Somehow it was all working for him. He had to fight back the urge to run his fingers along her arm to see if her skin was as silky as it appeared.