Tyler (4 page)

“So I can count on you to stick?”

Tyler looked from Jolene to Emily and then back. “Yes, ma’am. I’ve never gone back on my word before. I’m sorry for giving you reason to doubt me.”

Jolene nodded. “I need to be sure I can count on you, Tyler.”

Emily knew why they needed to keep The Lucky Star afloat and making money; what she didn’t know yet was why Tyler needed the money when he so clearly didn’t want to be up on the stage at The Lucky Star stripping for tips.

***

Damn.
Even before he started, fate had stacked the deck against him. Grandpa’s ranch would be lost to them if he didn’t get the promised pay. “You can count on me.”

He swayed on his feet and realized that he hadn’t stopped to eat before his shift. Although he wasn’t a great dancer, the moves Jennifer and Natalie had taught him, combined with the fact that he’d been up working since four o’clock this morning, hit him like a ton of bricks. He needed to sit down, eat, and sleep, and not necessarily in that order. Pride kept him going, but he was smart enough to know he’d have to work hard to make up for nearly quitting on Jolene. “I need some air, but I’ll be back in a few minutes to help clean up.”

Jolene nodded. “Take a break. You earned it.”

He moved through the crowd.

“Hey, handsome, where are you going?”

Tyler sidestepped the leggy blonde reaching for him and bumped into a pretty little thing with long dark hair and a mouth just made for sin. “Excuse me, ma’am.” Tyler touched the brim of his cowboy hat.

“Do you always talk like that?” the brunette purred.

Tired enough to be confused, he asked, “Like what, ma’am?”

The woman giggled and slipped her arm through his. “Why don’t we go someplace real quiet?”

He was the first to admit he enjoyed women, but one at a time. His attention had been snagged by a chocolate-covered redhead earlier. Now that the anxiety of performing his first strip/dance number was abating, all he really wanted was a cold beer, a hot meal, and a soft bed—preferably empty—because as soon as his head hit the pillow, he’d be down for the count.

Looking down at the dark-haired woman and her slick, red, I-just-want-to-suck-you-dry lips, he shook his head. “Maybe some other time.” Tipping his hat, he kept walking.

“Don’t get lost, Tyler!” He looked over his shoulder and there stood Emily, Jolene, Jennifer, and Natalie. His sigh was long and deep. “I swear I’m just going outside for a breath of air that doesn’t smell like perfume.”

Damn if Jolene and Emily didn’t look at him like he was crazy. “Doesn’t the mix of half a dozen different scents make your eyes water?” Hell, it did his. When they just stared at him as if he were from another planet he shook his head. “Ten minutes, and I’ll be back.”

Emily moved toward him. “You look like you could use a hot meal.”

Relieved, he nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll be right back.”

She reached out to grasp his hand. “I’ll rustle up some bacon and eggs for you.” She squeezed his hand before letting it go. “Come on upstairs—”

“You can cook just as easily in the downstairs kitchen, Em.”

Tyler looked from his boss to the lovely Emily and shrugged. “I’d appreciate it no matter where you cook it, ma’am.”

Emily frowned at Jolene. “Fine. Come on back to the downstairs kitchen; it’s behind the bar.”

Tyler touched his fingers to the brim of his Stetson and made his way through the crowd.

He felt someone slipping their hand into his back pocket, leaving what felt like a credit card or a room key. He was too proud to accept the first, and he’d be damned if he’d accept the second. The promise of sexual release just wasn’t what he was after. Now that his anger left and he was able to think straight, all he wanted was to breathe air that wasn’t laden with too many sweet-smelling perfumes so he could clear his head and chow down on the promised meal. He reached into his back pocket and handed the room key back to the sultry looking brunette. When she pouted, he shrugged and kept walking.

Once he made it outside, he breathed in deeply. Cool night air filled his lungs. He marveled that Texas air could smell so good. He’d been all the way to Tennessee once, and the air just didn’t smell the same there. No offense to folks from Tennessee, but he’d take a lungful of good old Texas air anytime.

Staring up at the stars, he ignored the steady stream of women moving past him, trying to get him to talk to them. His mind wandered until it settled on the chocolate-covered redhead who’d gotten under his skin. He’d been poleaxed by Emily Langley, and he intended to explore his fascination with the woman, her excellent curves, and her sweet-looking mouth. Ten minutes later, he made his way to the downstairs kitchen and found Jolene sipping from a steaming mug while Emily had her back to him frying bacon. “Ain’t nothing that smells better to a man with an empty stomach than well-cured pig frying.”

Jolene chuckled and smiled. “Have a seat, cowboy.”

He sighed. “Name’s Tyler.”

Jolene grinned. “I know it, but you all dressed up like a cowboy is going to help bring business into The Lucky Star. It’ll be good for the both of us.”

Emily had yet to turn around, and he had a deep-seated urge to see if her face was as pretty as he remembered. “Everything OK over there?”

She turned around and his heart just flipped upside down and sideways. She had a smear of bacon grease on her tank top right between her amazing breasts. He tried hard, real hard, not to notice. But when her gaze dipped down to where he’d been staring, he knew he’d failed. “You… um…”

“Darnit.” She sighed. “I get so involved cooking, I don’t always notice when I get some of it on me.”

Jolene laughed, drawing his attention back to his boss. “I’ve got some stain lifter that’ll take that right out, Em.”

Emily turned back to the frying pan and lifted the rest of the bacon out to drain on the paper towel–lined plate next to the burner. “How many eggs and how do you want them cooked?”

If Tyler wasn’t so tired, he’d offer to help; even so, he felt he owed it to her to explain. “Thanks, Emily. I’m so tired, I don’t think I could stand up long enough to fry up some eggs.”

She grinned and his heart flipped back into place. “Fried it is. How many?”

He wasn’t starving, so he only asked for three.

While he ate, the women kept him company. He listened to their quiet conversation and was surprised at how comfortable he felt. He hadn’t expected to be. When Jolene pushed her chair back, he got up and held her chair for her. “See you tomorrow… er, later tonight, boss.”

Jolene smiled at him—a genuine smile and not the phony one she’d given him during his interview. “I’m counting on it.” She patted Emily on the shoulder. “See you in the morning.”

Now that they were alone, Tyler didn’t know what he wanted to say first. He’d been struck by her beauty first thing… the chocolate had just added to his fascination with her. He lifted his mug to his lips and sipped. “Thanks for the hot meal.”

She smiled at him. “My pleasure. You looked like you were going to keel over any minute if I didn’t feed you.”

Lord, her smile tied his tongue up in a knot. He loosened it enough to say, “Might have.”

When he got up and started to rinse his plate in the sink, she joined him. “Here,” she said, placing her hand on his. “Let me.”

They both stopped and looked into one another’s eyes. Tyler couldn’t say he minded that she was quiet around him. Maybe he got to her the way she got to him and her tongue tangled up a bit. The thought of tangling tongues with Emily Langley had his libido warming up. He’d been fed and now had energy to spare.

“Emily, I—”

“Need to put something on that scratch.”

The pained look in her eyes had him wondering what caused it. Her next words answered his unasked question. “I’m so sorry I didn’t think about it before I fed you.” She glanced down reminding him of the reason he’d nearly thrown away his chance to save the Circle G.

“It, uh, doesn’t bother me all that much.”

Her face flushed a lovely shade of pink. Mesmerized, he reached out and touched the tip of his finger to the delicate line of her cheek, stroking it down to the edge of her jaw. “You’re distracting, Miss Emily Langley.”

She cleared her throat and managed, “Likewise, Mr. Garahan.” She blinked and seemed to get her thoughts back in order. “Still, you don’t want an infection, and you seriously don’t know where that woman’s nails have been.”

Emily’s words had his stomach clenching. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll be sure to take care of it.”

She visibly relaxed and brushed her hand along the top of his shoulder. “Promise?”

The feather-light stroking motion was doing crazy things to his insides. He covered her hand with his and pulled her up against him so her hands were trapped between them. “You’re gonna make it hard for me to sleep tonight.”

Her eyes widened. “Really?”

He bent his head until their lips were a breath apart. “Let me show you why.” She licked her lips, and he shuddered with need but held back. He didn’t want to scare her off. She was like a filly that needed gentling, coaxing.

Tyler brushed his lips across hers once, then twice, before settling them against her full lips. Her honey-sweet taste shot to his head like three fingers of his grandpa’s favorite Irish whiskey. He struggled against the need to devour and settled for a taste of her creamy skin, pressing his lips against her temple and the tip of her nose, before he finally pressed them to the top of her head.

Holding her against him was pure torture. He didn’t know how long he’d have to wait before convincing her he would be worth the time to get to know. One thing he did know was that he’d be locking lips with Miss Emily again… soon… real soon.

He eased back from their embrace, running his hands from her shoulders, along the surprisingly toned length of her arms, until he had her hands in his.
It felt right.

“’Night, Emily.”

She tilted her head up to meet his gaze and softly smiled. “Goodnight, Tyler.”

Unable to think of anything but the gentle kisses they’d shared, Emily watched Tyler leave the kitchen. She couldn’t remember ever being kissed as if she were fragile, yet something precious to be savored.

Setting the kitchen to rights, she couldn’t get him out of her mind. She couldn’t explain the reason why, but something about him just seemed right. Her past boyfriends had just been good to look at, but after getting to know them, she hadn’t been attracted to the person beneath their flashy surface, bright-white smiles, and fake suntans.

Despite his rough and tumble exterior, Tyler as a person attracted her. He was a gentleman… the real deal… she could tell by the way he treated Jolene, Gwen, Natalie, and Jennifer. The bonus, as far as she was concerned, was the fact that he was a man of his word and seemed deeply bothered that he’d nearly gone back on it.

She’d seen him struggle with his conscience and knew it had more to do with the circumstances surrounding the incident that had him ready to give up, but when he’d had a moment to get a hold of his emotions, he was ready to stick by his word. She’d love him for that alone.

“Whoa there,” she told herself, making her way upstairs to the bathroom. “No reason to toss good sense to the wayside. It’s way too early to start tossing around the L word.”

She enjoyed being in his company, and cooking for a man never bothered her. It didn’t matter if the person was male or female, cooking soothed her the same way baking did. What she hadn’t counted on was the way she’d been drawn to him. He seemed so lost when she’d wandered downstairs and found him talking to Jolene. And tonight after the show, he’d been exhausted. She’d fought the need to wrap her arms around him and tuck him into bed… her bed… finally deciding to coax him into the kitchen and feed him. They’d chatted as if they’d been friends forever.

She sighed, remembering how it felt to be held in his arms and kissed so tenderly. No way would she let him walk away from what they’d started. She needed to experience the pleasure of being held in his arms again, against the steady, strong beat of his heart. She sighed and brushed the hair out of her eyes so she could stare at her reflection in the mirror above the sink.

“You’re a liar if you think just being held by that tall, dark, handsome hunk of cowboy is going to satisfy the itch that’s twitching in your belly.” Her reflection shrugged back at her. She was only human.

Emily reached for her toothbrush and tube of toothpaste. Squeezing out a thin line along the bristles, she brushed her teeth while wondering if she was jumping the gun where Tyler was concerned. “He might just want to see if he can talk me into bed.”

Her reflection stared back at her as if silently asking: “So?” She grinned. “I’m already interested enough to jump at the chance. But what if it ends after one night?”

She ran her hands under the warm water and splashed her face before reaching for the apricot scrub, squeezing some onto her fingertips. Working the cleanser into her pores, she weighed the pros and cons of beginning a relationship that might only be short-term.

“There’s the benefit of having a tall, dark-haired, dark-eyed hunk in my bed.” She rinsed her face and reached for the hand towel hanging by the sink. “He looks like he’d be the devil in bed… but he kisses like an angel.”

Hanging the towel back on the hook, she sighed. “Lord, that is one complex man: in-your-face sexy on the outside, but shy, sweet, and honorable on the inside.” She shut off the light and headed down the hall to her bedroom. “I think I’ll have to take my time getting to know him.”

Getting undressed for bed, she decided. “Whatever is going to happen will happen no matter how much I stress over it. Fate and destiny can be truly evil bitches sometimes.”

Under the covers, she rolled over onto her side. “I’m willing to get to know him better and take the chance that he might want the same thing.”

Closing her eyes, she prayed, “Lord, please let him have as much trouble sleeping tonight as me.”

***

“Ty?” a deep voice called, rousing him partway from an exhausted sleep.

“Five more minutes, Grandpa,” he struggled to open one eye, knowing the irascible old man would be standing at the foot of his bed with either a glass of cold water or a cup of fragrant fresh brewed coffee, depending on his grandfather’s mood.

“Did he just call you Grandpa?”

“Yeah, he did. Must have been a rough night at The Lucky Star if he’s seeing Grandpa.”

Too tired to open both eyes, Tyler forced his one eye to focus and then moaned. “Musta been dreaming.”

The two men standing on either side of his bed grinned simultaneously. Alike enough in looks to be taken for twins, even though they hadn’t shared a womb at the same time, his brothers were different enough in personalities to drive a saint crazy. And Lord knows neither the man he’d been dreaming about, who helped to raise them, nor either of his brothers would ever qualify for sainthood.

“Bro,” Dylan ground out, “if you’re dreaming about Grandpa and this ranch you need to get out more.”

“Yeah,” Jesse added, “and find yourself a fine-looking female.”

“Hell, Jess,” Dylan snorted. “Any female, at this point, would do. I think our big brother’s in dire need of a woman with quick hands and a soft heart.”

A redhead with a huge splat of chocolate in the middle of her T-shirt came to mind. Her beautiful face settled in his mind and stuck.
Emily.
She was a woman worth the time to get to know. Her beauty had hit him between the eyes and stunned him, her curves had his libido and imagination working double time, but the woman beneath the surface was what counted. And he had a bone-deep feeling she was a woman worth knowing. But would she want to get to know him too?

He scrubbed his hands over his face and moaned, “Is that coffee fresh?”

Dylan lifted the mug to his mouth and grinned. “Was about two hours ago.” He sipped and Tyler groaned.

“I’m up, damn it.” Tyler pushed himself up against the headboard and held out his hand toward the mug.

Dylan shook his head. “You’re still in bed.” He smiled and lifted the cup to drink. Swallowing a mouthful, he licked his lips. “Hot and sweet, just like I like my women.”

“Coffee,” Tyler ground out.

His brothers shared a look and backed up.

“Nothing doing. Not until you’re on your feet, or else you’ll drink it and fall right back to sleep.” Jesse stared at the middle of Tyler and frowned. “You lose a fight with a cat last night?”

The image of a blonde with dark roots and nasty claws came to mind. “No. Why?” The lie came just a bit too easily to his lips.

Jesse lifted one of the steaming cups he held and pointed at Tyler’s stomach. “You’ve got a couple of serious scratch marks there.”

Emily had been worried about the possibility of infection. The little redhead had kept him tossing and turning most of the night, remembering her soft laughter, cheerful smile, and captivating demeanor. She’d cooked him breakfast and kept him company while he ate. Talking to her had been a pleasure—like they were old friends. The gentle kisses they’d shared had been achingly sweet and whet his whistle for more. Holding her against him had been pure torture. He’d had a taste, and he craved more.

“You want to tell us about it?” Dylan leaned toward the bed and waited.

Shaking his head to clear it, Tyler focused his thoughts where they needed to be—the present—and that cup of coffee he wanted. Unwilling to own up to the truth of what happened, he shrugged. “Must have been a staple from one of the boxes.” Tyler needed caffeine if he was going to stay one step ahead of his brothers—make that one lie ahead. He threw the covers off, got out of bed, and stalked toward his brother. “Now, gimme that cup!”

Jesse shoved the chipped stoneware cup at him, sloshing coffee over the rim. Tyler grabbed the cup, switched hands, and using his brother’s shirt like a towel, wiped his wet hand on the front of Jesse’s clean white T-shirt. Slipping his fingers through the handle, Tyler tilted his head back and took a long slug of coffee.

Swallowing a moan of pure caffeine-induced pleasure, he looked over at his brother and admitted, “God, I’d have had to hurt you if you didn’t hand that cup over.”

Jesse glanced down at the wet spot on his shirt and held up his hands. “Yeah, I’m shaking in my boots, Ty.”

“Come on,” Dylan urged. “We’re burning daylight.”

Tyler gulped down more of the coffee. “I’m coming.” He started to follow his brothers out of his bedroom, but Dylan put a hand to the middle of Tyler’s chest and grinned at him. “You might want to put pants on first.”

At his suggestion, Tyler looked down. “Hell.” He was too tired to put pants on. “Why should you care if I eat breakfast in my boxers or not?” he demanded, following close on his brothers’ heels.

“Because Lori’s in the kitchen making you breakfast,” Dylan bit out.

“Yeah,” Jesse added. “You know Grandpa’s rule, when it’s just us men… anything goes… but if there’s a woman in the house, we wear our damned pants to breakfast.”

Taking another swig of coffee, Tyler wondered if there was more to Jesse wanting him to put on his pants. They’d all grown up together—Jesse still didn’t have a thing for Lori, did he?

Time to test the waters and find out. “She’s seen me in less—” he began only to find himself pinned to the wall just outside his bedroom door with his little brother’s arm wedged up against his throat.

“Shut. The. Fuck. Up.” Jesse pressed harder, cutting off Tyler’s air.

Just when the room started to fade to gray, the weight lifted and he dragged in a much-needed breath of air. Rounding on his brother, hands curled into fists at his sides, Tyler rasped, “What the hell is your problem?”

Dylan reached past him and dragged their younger brother down the hall. “You two can fight later. We’ve got chores. Come on, Jess.”

“He’s got no call to be talkin’—”

The rest of what Jesse was going to say was cut off by a sweet, soft voice calling out that breakfast was ready.

Tyler stubbed his toe on something cool and hard. Shaking his head to clear the last of the fuzziness away, he reached down and picked up the coffee mug where it had fallen in the scuffle.

“Wasn’t even worth calling a fight,” he mumbled rubbing at his throat. “Damn… that hurts.” Looking down, he swore. He’d be inciting a riot and asking for round two if he showed up in the kitchen in his form-fitting boxers. Hell, it wasn’t the style of them that might offend the woman his brothers must have coerced into cooking for them while Tyler worked nights. When a woman was in your damned house, you had to dress for breakfast… no more showing up naked or in your boxers. Grandpa’s rule had been handed down generation to generation, and as people said, “If it ain’t broke…”

Growing up, his mom had been strict about it. After she died, Grandpa had stepped in, doing double-duty as their only parent and the ranch’s owner and, therefore, their boss. The old man hadn’t been too particular about briefs or boxers at the breakfast table, as long as the three of them hustled their butts and got the animals fed and watered on schedule.

Retracing his steps, he wondered how serious it was between Lori and Jesse. They sure as shit couldn’t afford to pay Lori, so why would she… And then it hit him right between the eyes and he grinned. Jesse must have sweet-talked her into doing it.

The youngest of the trio had inherited their grandfather’s Irish charm. Far as he could tell, Jesse had all of the charm, since Tyler and Dylan pretty much communicated with as few words as possible to as few people as possible… well, unless the situation warranted it.

He was grinning to himself as he turned around to grab the pair of jeans he’d left on the floor where he’d shucked them off last night. Stepping into them, he pulled them up his legs, fastened the button, and brushed against the raw abrasion low on his belly.

He drew in a breath and remembered Emily’s concern-filled warning. Stopping in the bathroom, he checked for signs of infection. Worried enough about his working parts to take extra care, he rummaged in the medicine cabinet and found cotton balls and some antiseptic.

“Shit!” Sucking in air between his teeth, ignoring the cold stinging sensation along his now semi-erect shaft, he dabbed on some first aid ointment and pulled his boxers and jeans back on.

His mood grim, Tyler stormed into the kitchen, ready to tear ass.

“Morning, Ty.”

The petite blonde holding a steaming cup of coffee out so he could grab it smiled at him and half of his mad just melted away. Not sure he could trust himself not to say something that would get his brother riled again, he nodded and accepted the offering. He blew across the surface of the liquid then sipped. Perfect temperature. He swallowed a mouthful and eyed his brother, gauging his mood before saying, “Thanks.”

“Don’t mind him, Lori.” Jesse eyed him like he was an opponent, rather than one-third of the reason Tyler’d sold his integrity last night—for more than he’d hoped to earn but still a hell of a lot less than they really needed.

Her smile was sugar-sweet. “A good-looking, grumpy man like your big brother just needs something to line the ache in his empty belly.”

She turned around and reached for the plate she’d left on the countertop. Filling it with steak, scrambled eggs, fried potatoes, and toast, she laid a hand on Jesse’s shoulder and reached past him to give Tyler the plate.

Tyler looked right at his brother and grinned. “You can cook for me anytime, Lori.”

Lori’s smile broadened. “That’s the plan. At least until you’re ready to quit working nights.” She placed a plate of crisply fried bacon in the middle of the table, totally at ease in the Garahan kitchen. Bustling about topping off coffee cups, her gaze flicked from where his brother still sat and then back.

Tyler looked at his brothers and wondered just how much Lori knew about their financial situation. Probably a lot more than he’d be comfortable with and not a topic he wanted to discuss over breakfast.

“Since neither one of my brothers can boil water without melting the pot handle—”

“Hey!” Jesse grumbled. “It wasn’t my fault that I got distracted.”