Read The Blacker the Berry Online

Authors: Lena Matthews

Tags: #Erotica

The Blacker the Berry (2 page)

“Oh yeah, I feel much better.” Her grin was infectious, and he felt a smile grace his own lips.

“That’s what I’m here for. So, shall we?”

“Let’s.”

Russell walked with her to the passenger side and opened the door for her. He waited until she buckled up before closing the door and walking around the front to get into the driver’s side. After opening his door, he took off his hat, and sat down, tossing the hat on the backseat before closing the door and buckling up.

As usual the car started like a dream, purring to life at a simple twist of his key. The Lexus may not have been part of the cowboy way of life, but it was sweet as sin, and anyone who said differently apparently had never driven one.

He pulled away from the curb and started the three-hour-long trek to Santa Estella. It was a trip he’d been making a lot in the last three months, so much so, he could probably do it in his sleep. He had become so used to making the trip in peace and quiet, he’d come to think of it as his own little downtime away from life.

It was the one main reason he’d only begrudgingly agreed to drive Tamara. As selfish as it was, he didn’t want to have to give up the one moment of tranquility he’d come to look forward to by the weekend. But the idle chatter he’d expected to be bombarded with from point A to point B, never occurred. Before he hit the freeway, Tamara pulled her iPod from her jacket pocket. She put the earbuds into her ears and closed her eyes, resting her head on the headrest.

It was a good thing he didn’t want to talk. Right…a good thing. About an hour into the drive, the good thing got old. Real old.

Taking one hand off the wheel, he gently tapped her on the thigh, startling her so bad her iPod flew out of her hand. Although it was funny, Russell held back his laughter while he waited for her to take the headphones off. “Sorry,” he said halfheartedly when she pulled the white cord, freeing her eardrums. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“As my momma used to say, if I was living right, I wouldn’t be jumping, right?”

He wasn’t sure if she was right or not. In fact, he wasn’t quite sure he understood what the hell she’d just said. He was just happy she was talking. “Right. So how long are you staying? I saw the bag and…”

“Oh.” She chuckled. “Just for the weekend. They did tell you I was going to need a ride home, right?”

“Yes, but I come out every weekend. I didn’t know if it was this Sunday or next.”

“No, this Sunday.”

“So, why the big bag?”

“Despite how it might appear, only a few things in there are clothes. The rest are things for Charlotte.”

“Baby presents?”

Tamara cocked a brow. “Look at you all up in my business.”

“Hey,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders. “I’m a lawyer. I cross-examine in my sleep.”

“I guess.”

When she didn’t volunteer any more information, he prodded, “So…”

“So what, nosey boy?” she shot back, completely ignoring his curiosity.

“You’re not going to tell me?” His tone showed the disbelief he felt.

“Nope.” She shook her head for good measure, smiling all the while.
Brat!

“Why?”

“Because you want to know.”

He didn’t think he’d ever met a more contrary woman in his life. Yet instead of her refusal angering him, it amused him. “That’s childish.”

“I can live with that.”

“What if I said, if you don’t tell me, I’m going to pull over and drag you out of the car.” Since they both knew the threat was meaningless, it didn’t hold much weight, but he was interested to see what her response would be.

“I’d say, ‘I hope you ate your Wheaties.’”

His lips quirked with humor. “Why? Don’t think I can handle you?”

“No, cowboy, I know you can’t handle me.”

Talk about waving the red flag before the bull. Russell was sorely tempted to pull the car over for the mere sake of proving her wrong. She might think she was too much for him, but she was wrong. Dead wrong. And he couldn’t wait until he proved it to her. “We’ll see, Ms. Thang. We’ll see.”

Chapter Two

The three-hour drive to Santa Estella seemed to fly by to Tamara. It had more to do with the company than the lack of traffic. Even though they’d met at the wedding and talked for a very brief time, she really didn’t get a chance to know him.

If memory served her, he had offered her a job during the reception, but she never took him up on the opportunity. Back then she’d been afraid of screwing up and getting fired and then having to see him at every function she attended at Charlotte and Ty’s. That didn’t end up being the case, though. Not just because she didn’t take him up on his offer, but also because after the wedding she never saw him again.

Over the course of the last two years, Tamara had visited the Dollar Ranch more times than she could count, but not once, on any of those occasions, had she run into him. She’d heard of him. Ty mentioned him a few times, but that was about it.

Now, looking at Russell, it appeared as if the man who had once told her that he wasn’t a
cowboy
cowboy, might have up and changed his mind a bit, if his outfit was anything to go by.

And damn, did he look good in that outfit. She was willing to bet he looked damned good out of it as well. Hmm…what she wouldn’t give to get him in her viewfinder. He had black hair, tapered at the nape, and a sexy goatee. His green eyes seemed to delve into her soul when his gaze was on her. She wondered for a moment how she could have forgotten their depth or intensity.

Several times during the drive, she found herself wondering,
Did God really make men that pretty
? No matter how long she looked at him, be it side-eyed or full-on, she couldn’t get over how attractive Russell was. No, attractive was almost too tame a word to describe the man. He was
fine
, heavy on the
ine
.

“By the way, thank you for allowing me to tag along with you. I really appreciate it.”

“My pleasure.” He said pleasure like some women said chocolate.

She was still focused on his sensual voice when she became aware the car had come to a stop. Looking around, she realized they were at the ranch. Wow, where did the time go? “So, we’re here.”

“Yes, we are. Ready to get out and straighten your legs?”

Not really, but she wasn’t going to admit that. “Of course.”

“Great. Hold on.” He hopped from the car and hustled around to open her door. She couldn’t help but appreciate his gentlemanly habits that seemed to have died out in the city. Maybe it was a cowboy thing.

“Thanks,” she said as she rose from the car. When she had to look up to meet his gaze, she was once more struck dumb. The man was something to behold. Muscular without being bulky, Russell appeared leaner, like a basketball player, not scary like a football player. He also towered over her, which, since she was five-eight, wasn’t an easy thing to do. Good Lord, she was going to have to get a hold of herself, or run off and become acquainted with Charlotte’s handheld shower nozzle.

“Once again,” he said with a wink. “It’s my pleasure. Let me get your ba—”

“Oh my God!”

Tamara looked passed Russell and over to the front door to Charlotte, who was standing on the white porch in the entranceway with one hand over her mouth and the other resting on her enormous belly. Her big brown eyes were wide as she stared at Tamara. Tamara looked her fill as well.

It had been a little over a month since she’d seen the other woman, and other than her tummy pushing her floral smocked tank shirt out to kingdom come, Charlotte still looked the same. As stereotypical as it sounded, her mocha-tinged skin seemed to glow. Even though her sable hair was cut short in a boy-like style, it seemed healthier than it ever had before. Pregnancy, like marriage, appeared to suit her.

“You don’t have to worship me,” Tamara teased, moving past Russell toward the porch. “Just sacrifice a few calves in my honor, and we’ll call it good.”

Charlotte dropped her hand from her mouth and took a step forward. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you.” Tamara climbed the steps until she was standing in front of the pregnant woman. “But if that’s the kind of welcome I’m going to get, I’m going home.”

“You better not.” Charlotte reached out and pulled Tamara into her arms. Or tried to. Her belly, for once bigger than Tamara’s, prevented the two women from getting too close. “I’m so happy to see you.”

“I missed you too, shrimp.” Her words were like a crack in the dam, causing Charlotte’s tears to burst forth. “I’m sorry,” Tamara instantly said, unsure why her nickname for her friend would cause this reaction. Charlotte had never protested in the past about the term of endearment.

“She’s constantly doing that these days,” said a deep voice from behind Charlotte. Still locked in the crying woman’s embrace, Tamara could only look up in confusion at Charlotte’s husband, Ty, who was lounging in the entryway. The handsome man was grinning from ear to ear as he stared down at the two of them. “Don’t take it personal.”

“Oh shut up, you,” Charlotte said, pulling away from Tamara. With her hand on her hip, she turned around and faced Ty. “Did you know about this?”

The huge man, who easily dwarfed both women, raised his hands in mock surrender and took a step back. “Who me?”

“Yes, you.” Charlotte waddled over to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Thank you, you big lug.”

Ty smiled and pulled her tighter into him. “Welcome, baby. Happy?”

“Words cannot express.”

“Can I express something, please?”

Tamara turned from the happy couple to glance behind her at Russell, who had her suitcase in one hand and a smaller black bag in the other. “Move. This shit is heavy.”

“Ohh. Sorry.” Tamara scrambled out of the way, so he could climb the steps. She wasn’t the only one. Ty and Charlotte backed into the house, allowing him room to come in.

“Get in here, girl.”

She complied, bringing up the rear, which wasn’t a bad thing at all. It afforded her the opportunity to get a glimpse of cowboy ass. Nice.

“How long are you staying?” Charlotte asked, staring down at the two bags.

“I’m just staying for the weekend,” she said as she eyed the black bag. “Only the gray belongs to me. I’m not sure who the black one belongs to.”

“That’s mine,” Russell said. “I’m checking into the Dollar this weekend as well. Actually, I stay here most weekends while my house is being gutted.”

“Oh.” Talk about a nice surprise. “Interesting.” Very. And she’d be pumping Charlotte for information about that later.

“If you’re only staying for the weekend, what’s with the large bag?”

Tamara turned back to Charlotte and grinned. “Presents.”

“Presents.” Charlotte’s eyes lit up. “For me or the baby?”

“I don’t know that little intruder yet. They’re all for you.”

“Yay!” Charlotte let out a childlike squeal. “Give ’em to me.”

“No, later.” Tamara lowered her voice to a mock whisper. “When the stinky boys aren’t around.”

“Oh, that’s easy.” Charlotte glanced up at her husband and batted her eyes. “Honey, poof. Be gone.”

“Look at the thanks I get,” he grumbled good-naturedly. “But don’t think I’m not going to make you pay for that little comment later.”

“I’m counting on it.” He dropped a quick kiss on the top of her head, before releasing her. He grabbed a well-worn black cowboy hat off the hall table and slapped it onto his head, covering his brown locks in the process. “Come on, Russ, grab the bags. Tamara’s to the living room and yours to your room.”

“Great, so now I’m a butler as well as the driver.” He sent Tamara a wink. “I get no respect around here.”

“You’re a lawyer,” Ty said. “You should be used to it.”

“Good point.” Russell bent down and picked up the bags. “Ladies.”

After dropping the gray suitcase into the large room, the men headed back out, shutting the door behind them. Tamara considered the room the epitome of country living. It was casual and not overly pretentious, even though everything in the room was of the highest quality. The walls were a medium brown earthy tone, garnished with photos that went back several generations, Charlotte’s now included. The focal area was a large stone fireplace that took up most of one wall. All furniture was arranged around it, giving the room an even homier appeal. From what Tamara recalled, the taupe couches were extremely comfortable, something that Charlotte immediately decided to take advantage of.

“I’ve got to sit down. My feet are swelling so bad, I can’t stand for more than a few minutes. Of course, I can’t actually see my feet, which might actually be a good thing, because if I could see how bad they’ve gotten, I might just start to cry all over again.”

“I’m just letting you know, if you keep that up, I’m out of here. You know I’m a sympathy crier.”

“I totally forgot about that.” Charlotte’s laughter bubbled forth. “What a sight we’d make, both crying like we’d lost our minds. Noses running, snot just everywhere.”

“We’d look so hot.”

“Damn straight.” She chuckled as she eased down onto the brown leather recliner. “So what did you bring me?”

“Lots of stuff.” Tamara pulled the suitcase next to the chair and sat on the floor in front of it. After unzipping it, she pulled it open, and pushed the top over, displaying her goodies to Charlotte’s eager eyes. “Ty said you were bored, so I brought just what you need to ease all your woes.” Tamara pulled out three DVD cases. “
Love and Basketball, Dirty Dancing
, and
300
. Young love, hippie love, and hot gay love.”

“They weren’t gay in
300
.” Charlotte tried to protest, but Tamara smirked at her naivety.

“Girl, please, what movie were you watching?”

Laughing, Charlotte shook her head. “You are too much.”

“You say that now, but wait to see you what else I have for you.” Tamara set the movies down and pulled out a large plastic supermarket bag tied at the end.

“We have food here.”

“Shut up.” Tamara tore the bag open and pulled out a portable foot spa.

“Is that…” The awe in Charlotte’s voice was funny as hell.

“Yes. Movies and pedicures.” It was part of their former Saturday night ritual that used to also include chocolate-covered something or other and a recap of the latest Friday night date disaster. “Just like the good ol’ days. You know, before you lay with that white man and let him climb on top of you and have his wicked way.”

“His wicked way.” Charlotte chuckled as she shook her head in amusement. “God, I love you.”

“That’s what all the pregnant chicks say,” she said with a smile and a shrug of her shoulders. “Now point those dogs in my direction and get to spilling. Who is this Russell Crichton guy, really, and what is he doing staying here?”

* * *

“So are you sure it isn’t a big deal, me staying here?” Russell asked as he tossed his bag carelessly on the bed in the room he’d stayed in whenever he came out to Santa Estella, which of late, had been quite often. Now that Charlotte’s friend was here, he wondered if he was taking Ty’s goodwill a bit too far.

“Of course. This is as much your home as it is mine.”

Russell was touched his friend felt that way. Lord knew he’d spent as much time in this house during his teenage years as he did his own. But still… “I’d understand. Hell, it’s past time for me to get a room at the local inn, or maybe I should look into getting one of those trailers and setting it up on the property.” It wouldn’t be long until the inside was done. He would only need to stay in a trailer for a month or so, and since he only came out on weekends, the time would fly by.

“A trailer.” Ty crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe as he regarded Russell. There was a look akin to amusement on the other man’s face. “Okay, who are you, and what have you done with my best friend?”

“What do you mean?” Russell frowned.

“I don’t know who you are, but the Russell ‘Rusty’ Crichton I know wouldn’t be caught dead in a trailer again. What was it you use to say? ‘Roughing it isn’t fun, it’s a flashback.’”

Russell chuckled at the other man’s comment. “If you had a father like mine, you’d feel the same way.”

“Boyd was a good man. May he rest in peace.”

“Yes, he was.” Russell would never deny the character of his father. He had been a good man, but he’d also been a piss-poor provider. He’d dragged his family with him from town to town as he followed the rodeo circuit. Boyd had dreams filled with gold belt buckles and big dollar signs, dreams that never came to fruition thanks to a stubborn steed with a wicked buck. Russell’s father had spent all of his life chasing a fantasy, only to end up a hand on the Dollar thanks to a busted knee.

Although Russell had loved his father, he didn’t love the life the man made for their family. After graduating high school, it had become his life’s goal to prove he wasn’t his father, but that useless rebellion was over. He was now making it his life’s goal to prove he was a good man, and not one led around by the memory and shadow of a ghost. Still, though, it didn’t mean he had to sleep in a tin can to do it. “A very good man.” Russell smiled. “But I sincerely doubt he’s resting in peace. More like he’s raising hell and taking names with your dad at his side.”

“Amen to that, brother.”

“By the way, dingbat, you gave me the wrong apartment address.”

“I did?” Ty frowned.

“Yes, and don’t think I didn’t have to hear about it.”

“Tamara’s a mouthy little thing, isn’t she? Did she talk your ear off?”

“No, not really.” Once he put the conversational ball in motion, she held up her end, but at no time did she ever overwhelm him with chatter. “Charlotte seemed happy to see Tamara.”

“She did, didn’t she?” A grin lit up his friend’s face. The same sappy grin the otherwise intimidating man wore every time mention was made of his pint-sized beauty. He was such a goner, something Russell never thought would happen.

The two of them had chased more tail than tomcats, and now Ty was neutered. What a shame. “Yes, I think you’ll be in her good graces for a while. And maybe you can stop following her around like a hound dog.”

Other books

B.A.S.E. Camp by Rob Childs
The Devil Rides Out by Dennis Wheatley
Chain of Title by David Dayen
Finding Home by Marie Ferrarella
Mercy Falls by William Kent Krueger
Las esferas de sueños by Elaine Cunningham