The Love Ranch (BWWM Romance) (2 page)

Before she could stop him, he dropped down onto his haunches in front of Jamal, his pale eyes warming as he grinned at the little boy, “Hey buddy. You don’t wanna do that, you know?”

“Do what?” Jamal asked, hiccupping now as he warily stemmed his tears in the presence of the big stranger.

“You don’t wanna be the boy known for carrying on like some sissy right on Main Street!” the man said, looking comically aghast. “I mean you do have to go to school you know? And you don’t want all your new friends to think you’re a cry-baby do you?”

He was being patient and good-natured with Jamal and she wasn’t certain she liked it; she had come to expect animosity towards her and her kid. He’s not Hank, she reminded herself fiercely. Hank was her ex, and Jamal’s father, and to her way of thinking, he had been in a class by himself; and not in a good way.

Jamal’s eyes widened in childish horror as he considered this and then his jaw jutted out in familiar stubborn lines as he muttered, “I don’t have any friends here.”
      

“Maybe not yet, but as soon as you get to school, you’re gonna have the other kids linin’ up around the block for a chance to be your best bud.”

“Why? I’m just a new kid,” Jamal said, eyeing him suspiciously.

“Exactly. They’re gonna want to be able to claim a kinship with the new boy from the big, bad city of New York,” he supplied, ruffling Jamal’s hair.

Goosebumps erupted onto Tiana’s hands immediately and without stopping to think about it, she snatched Jamal right out of the man’s light grasp and into her arms.

“Get away from us,” she shouted, her hands shaking as she hastily put some distance between them, her hands protectively thrusting Jamal behind her. How had he known they were from New York, she wondered wildly. Had Hank sent this cowboy?

“Why?” he asked calmly, rising to his feet.

“Get the hell away from us. Go on, git!” she ordered wildly, her heart pounding in her chest.

“We haven’t been introduced,” he said quietly with something that sounded suspiciously like amusement threading his voice even as he stepped back a few paces, his palms raised towards her in the universal sign of surrender.

“I’m Christian Langfield,” he supplied, watching her carefully as though she was going to go nuts on him the next minute.

Knowing he had a name should have lessened her alarm somewhat, but she was still clutching her son protectively when she asked, “How do you know where we’re from?”

She saw the light dawn and watched amusement enter his eyes as he drawled, “It’s a small town; people talk. Ava Martins’ had us goin’ for weeks with tales of her new client from New York. Plus, your accent’s a dead giveaway.”

“Ava Martins?” she asked ignoring the comment about her accent. She didn’t have an accent, thank you very much.

“Your realtor?” he said, taking off his hat for the first time and raking one masculine hand through his hair, leaving it standing up in artful disarray around his head.

“Oh,” she said flummoxed. She tried not to grind her teeth as she saw his eyes light up with definite amusement.

“Yeah. It was nice meeting you Ms...?”

“Walker. Tiana Walker
,” she offered, reaching out and taking his outstretched arm. Electricity sizzled from the slight contact, shooting an unexpected frisson of awareness straight through her nerve endings.  A frisson of awareness prickled the back of her neck and her nipples inexplicably tightened into hard little points
under her t-shirt.

“Now we’ve established I’m not a pedophile or some such thing, I’ll be on my way. See you around and welcome to Paradise.”

Tiana watched him leave, her heart thumping wildly in her chest as she wistfully watched his lazy, unhurried, loose-hipped strides.

“Mommy? Who’s that man?” Jamal asked, hero-worship clear in his piping little voice as he also stared after Christian.

“Just someone Mommy’s gonna be avoiding from here on out,” she murmured. “Come on, Jamal,” she said as she wrapped a hand around her son and led him into their new home.

CHAPTER TWO

“Hey, new girl, shake a leg will ya? Them cowboys ain’t going to be sitting on their behinds all day waiting for you to catch up to the pace!” Tiny Tim boomed at Tiana across the crowded room of his restaurant, causing all heads to whip in her direction and making her wince at the unwanted attention.

“Yeah mucking out stalls is thirsty work!” someone else yelled from among the crowd of diners and the entire room erupted in laughter at what was obviously a private joke that included everyone but her.

Tiana tried not to roll her eyes as she swung the heavy tray of food and drinks high up into her hands and tried to roll her hips smartly as she had seen the other waitresses do. The heavy tray sagged against her, almost causing her to miss a step. She had been in Paradise, Texas for just one week and in that time, everyone had been friendly and eager to get to know her but all the attention just chafed because her goal had been to go subterranean and not to become the latest celebrity in town. She was beginning to really think small towns were not her cup of tea.

Tiny Tim’s was just about the only restaurant in a two-mile radius and its owner was a hulking seven-foot tall giant with a neck as thick as a small tree trunk, with the disposition of a bear with a sore paw. Privately, Tiana had thought ‘Tiny Tim’ was just a nickname given his unusually large size, until she had met the man’s mother and realized it was his given name. It was a good job Tiny Tim’s was also as large as the owner or it would never house the influx of regulars it held at all times. The place was always packed and somehow, a chair seemed to materialize for every single person who walked in. She had been trying to figure out how they did that to no avail.

She hefted her tray onto the table she was serving, keeping her eyes on the dishes as she forced a smile onto her face. She had never worked a waitressing job in her entire life even though she had always adored cooking.

“Here are your orders,” she said softly as she expertly laid dishes and glasses in front of everyone.

Startled silence at the table greeted the announcement and she looked up for the first time and she was so embarrassed; she had just served Bloody Marys and beers to a crowd of pimply faced teenagers.

“Oh my God, sorry. Sorry,” she mumbled as she hastily piled the dishes and glasses back onto the tray.

A raised hand at the end of the room signaled the right table and as she gratefully turned in that direction, the front door opened to admit new customers. Her hold on the tray wobbled a little as a person appeared whom she had not seen since that first day; Christian Langfield!

Sudden heat pulsed from across the room in shocking waves, sending Tiana’s breath out of her chest with a loud whoosh and before she could quite recover from her momentary distraction, the heavy tray crashed to the ground with a resounding thud.

The ensuing silence was abrupt and complete, sweeping over the entire bar until you could have heard an ant sneeze.

Tiny Tim broke the silence with a weary sigh and a resigned, “Come replace their orders, Cassie.”

Cassandra, one of the numerous waitresses at Tiny Tim’s walked smartly to the counter and placed the order for a new tray while Joe deftly offered the customers at the affected table a six-pack, obviously on the house.

Mortification roiled over Tiana in waves and she bit at her lips as she began to pile the broken glasses and bits of food back onto the tray.

“That’s quite a mess you made,” a deep resonant voice observed above her and her embarrassment immediately morphed into anger and resentment.

She glared up at him as she rose to her feet, her chin jutting out. “This is all your fault!” she spat in a low-toned voice that didn’t carry.

She held onto to her anger, deliberately ignoring the restless and unwelcome stirring inside of her. It was a sensation as hot and ominous as the rumbling approach of a summer storm and she didn’t want to examine it too closely.

He smirked before saying, “And how do you figure? All I did was walk in the door.”

“No,” she denied hotly. “You were the one who sauntered in like he owned the damn place and then started staring at me as though I had grown an extra head.”

“I was surprised to see you here is all; what’s your excuse?” he countered.

“I was not staring at you,” she told him, aghast. “I barely had the time to register your presence before you startled the tray from my grasp.”

“Suit yourself, Pinocchio,” he told her dryly, before turning on one boot-heel and striding away.

“Mean, crusty, rude cowboy,” she muttered on a hiss under her breath as she dropped back to her knees and began to gather up some more broken pieces.

A low chuckle behind her had her glaring over her shoulder, straight into the laughing, unapologetic eyes of one of her least favorite members of the waitressing staff, Tiffany Douglas. Tiffany was pretty as a Barbie doll with ash-blonde hair and great big baby-blues that gave her a deceptively fragile appearance; she was also petite with jugs the size of Texas which still managed to look great on her small frame. Tiana was secretly convinced those were implants and not God’s gift to her. Despite Tiffany’s naive appearance, she had a mean streak a mile wide and Tiana was so wary of her she wouldn’t leave Jamal alone with the woman whenever he came to Tiny Tim’s after school. The first day Tiana had come to work at Tiny Tim’s, Tiffany had deliberately made her trip over her outstretched feet and set the whole restaurant laughing then she had managed to ‘accidentally’ douse her with a glass of Bloody Mary and also managed to offer her a three-legged stool which collapsed the moment her butt touched it. Each time, the laughs that had emitted at her expense had been loud enough to rouse the dead. It was like high school all over again, Tiana thought bitterly.

“Here, let me help you,” Tiffany offered brightly with another giggle as she produced a duster whilst dropping onto her haunches.

“No thanks, I’m good,” Tiana said shortly. She was fast running out of patience with the girl. Ever since Tiana had shown up at Tiny Tim’s, Tiffany never lost an opportunity to make her look inept. She was always offering to take one task or the other off her hands!

Tiffany’s bright smile wobbled then she pretended she had not heard Tiana and began to help clear up the debris.

“You should be nicer to Tiffany. The gal is just tryin’ to be nice,” Patrick murmured as Tiana shakily washed her hands some minutes later.

Tiana looked over at him; with his big glasses, persistently rumpled clothes, slack mouth and wide face, Patrick was one of the least attractive men she had ever met but he had an innate kindness. She had seen him once gather up remnants to take home to a stray dog that had been plaguing his neighbor’s backyard.

She sincerely doubted Tiffany knew the word ‘nice’ existed but she merely nodded her head and picked up a fresh tray to take to yet another table.

Her feet slowed as she neared the table; Christian Langfield was sitting at the table holding the hand of a beautiful, sloe-eyed brunette, his gaze locked on hers. Her tiny hand was encased completely in his large palm while his thumb repetitively stroked the soft skin of her hand.

As she approached, the pair was so lost in each other’s gaze that they barely noticed her. Tiana cleared her throat deliberately, taking perverse satisfaction in the way the pretty brunette jumped and blushed. She made to pull her hand from Christian’s grasp but he tightened his grip and turned to face Tiana, his gaze flinty.

“Lunch’s here,” she said with forced cheer that sounded fake even to her ears.

“So fast? What did you do? Mix up the orders again?” the damn man asked, his eyes crinkling at her

Tiana ground her teeth as she jerkily dumped his bowl of mutton stew in front of him and then with exaggerated care, placed his companion’s own dish of rice in front of her.

“No witty comebacks?” he asked as she turned to leave.

“Who’s your companion?” she asked.

“Jealous?” he shot back with a grin and the brunette blushed again, her eyes widening.

Tiana’s own eyes went wide as saucers as she struggled between hilarity and shock. How could he say such a thing, and in front of his date too!

“Sometimes I swear Jamal is more of a gentleman than you’ll ever be. I should know; I raised him!”

“Ouch,” he laughed, his dark hair falling into his eyes. “Hear that Lydia? An indirect slur on my Mama,” he grinned at his companion, apparently not the least bit offended.

“Who’s Jamal?” the brunette, Lydia, asked in a low musical voice that somehow managed to make Tiana feel rough and unfeminine.

“Her son. He gets his good looks and manners from his dad if you ask me; definitely not from his mom,” Christian teased, laughter crinkling the edges of his eyes.

Tiana swaying slightly on her feet; and before she could stop herself, she said tightly in a low furious voice she barely recognized as hers, “Jamal is nothing like his dad!”

Christian’s laughter fled, to be replaced by a grave, somber expression, “I didn’t mean to offend you, Tiana. I’m sorry if I did.”