“Say what?”
“I’m saying you’re whipped, boy.” Russell flicked his hand as if it held a whip. “Wh-tcssh.”
“Wanting to see my wife happy makes me whipped?”
“No, that stupid little grin you get anytime you think of her makes you whipped.”
“Says the cynical lonely guy.”
“Don’t confuse single with lonely,” he challenged, even though there was a bit of truth to his friend’s words.
“Oh don’t worry. I wasn’t,” Ty said with a smug grin. “One day you’ll see, pal of mine. One day you’ll see.”
Russell shuddered at the very idea. “God, I hope not.”
“The plans for the new barn came in. Want to check them out?”
“Of course.” Russell rose from the bed and joined his friend at the opened door. “How else will I steal the design and make it better if I don’t?”
Ty slapped him on the back as he neared him. The heavy blow made him wince. “You should stick to the lawyering, son, and leave the real cowboy work to me.”
“We’ll see if you’re so cocky when my spread outrivals yours in less than a year. My colts will have your horses looking like well-trained mules.”
“I welcome the challenge, Rusty. Saddle up, cowboy.”
Cowboy. Russell liked the sound of that. It was so much nicer than blood-sucking bastard, just one of the pet names he was referred to by because of his chosen profession.
The two men chatted as they headed downstairs to the office. As they passed the living room, a shout of laughter rang out from behind the closed door.
The sound caused both men to stop in their tracks and glance at the oak door. They stood silent for a moment outside the room and listened in while the women chuckled it up on the other side. After a few seconds, Ty turned his head and looked at Russell and jerked his head in the direction of the door.
The silent question of “What the hell?” didn’t need to be voiced aloud. He too was interested in whatever had Tamara laughing so hard. Russell shrugged his shoulder in confused solidarity, and nodded his head, gesturing for the other man to open the door. He was just as curious as Ty was as to what was going on behind the closed doors.
When Ty turned the knob and pushed the door open, both men peered inside. Russell wasn’t sure what he expected to see, but it sure wasn’t Tamara sitting on the floor in front of a seated Charlotte, with a soaked foot in one hand and with something that looked like a lava rock in the other.
“And then he said…” Tamara’s words came to a dead stop at the creaking of the door. She raised a brow and gestured with the rock thingy to the couch. “Welcome to
Tamara’s House of Toes
. I’ll get to you two gentlemen in a minute.”
“I can’t speak for Rusty here, but I’m good, thanks.”
“Rusty?” Her lips twitched as if she was holding back a laugh. “All right…well, Rusty, do you have a preference in polish color?”
“Whore red,” he said, playing along. “And I need my fingernails done too. Plus a Brazilian wax.” Russell wasn’t quite sure what a Brazilian wax was, but Lord knew, he’d paid for a few while in relationships with women who didn’t mind him spending his money on them. “Can you fit us both in?” He nudged Ty with his shoulder. “My friend here is shy, but he could probably use the works.”
“Of course. I’m at your service.” She turned back to Charlotte who was grinning from ear to ear. “Grab a seat and stay awhile.”
Russell looked at Ty, who was watching his wife with a besotted grin on his face, and snorted his amusement. Ty was bewitched by his wife’s happiness. So much for looking at plans. Though when he thought hard about it, he realized he was okay with not looking over anything. Like Ty, he was suddenly more interested in what was going on in this room than he was in what was going on elsewhere. And that surprised and intrigued him equally.
Chapter Three
As much as Tamara enjoyed sleeping in, there was no way in the world she was going to do so today. One of the reasons she enjoyed visiting Charlotte was the breathtaking views she bore witness to every day on the Dollar. Her camera became an extension of her arm every time she was here, and today was no exception.
It was barely past six, but she was already up, dressed, and heading out the door. Her camera was loaded and ready, with a spare roll of film in her pocket. As quietly as she could, she walked downstairs, mindful of waking anyone else in the house. Of course, the second she stepped outside and spotted the dozen or so people already hard at work, she instantly felt stupid. Just because six o’clock seemed like an ungodly hour to her, didn’t mean the rest of the world felt that way.
Amused by her lack of knowledge, she shook her head and headed down the front porch, stepping into the sheer beauty of the great outdoors. Walking out the front door was like entering another world. She was amazed at the beauty around her. With camera in hand and at the ready, she took off in a southerly direction, heading toward the rear of the house where she knew the horses were sometimes freed to run to their hearts’ content in the confinement of the fenced pasture.
Although she would rather eat a horse than admit to having a fascination with the large beasts, she couldn’t quite hide her excitement at photographing the animal in its truest form, running with its herd as if it were as free as its ancestors had been. Horses galloping with the wind whipping through their manes were just something she didn’t see much of in Los Angeles.
In fact, city life in general didn’t often allow her to enjoy an unimpeded view of glorious sunrises or the simple quiet of the country. Nor did it afford her the opportunity to see a god riding a horse.
When she rounded the corner off the house, Tamara came up short and stared in surprise at Russell on a chestnut-colored horse, galloping around the dusty corral. The man and animal moved in perfect harmony, as if they were melded together. The hell he wasn’t a cowboy. She’d seen enough Clint Eastwood movies to know the real deal when she saw it.
What surprised her most, though, wasn’t the sight of the man on the horse, but the fact that she was able to recognize him, despite the several feet that separated them or the black hat worn low on his brow. He was the type of man whose very persona demanded recognition. And although she continually told herself that he wasn’t her type, she still found herself drawn to him.
Damn it, she didn’t do cowboys. That was Charlotte’s thing, not hers. Tamara was more of a blue-collar, rough-brother kind of girl, not that that had gotten her very far in life. But still, she wasn’t looking to take a ride out on the range, with Little Joe and Adam.
Then again, there was no harm in looking, or staring, or drooling, just as long as no one noticed. Not that she’d be the first woman ever caught salivating over a man in tight jeans and a hat. Wait a minute. She wasn’t the only one. With a new naughty determination, she headed over to the corral with a purpose in mind. She was going to take his picture. Lots of them. And maybe, just maybe, if she was lucky, she would finally have something worth hanging in a gallery. And if Lilith hung her photos, people would buy them.
Praying the fence would support her weight, she climbed up on it and seated herself on the top rung. With agility she didn’t know she possessed, she balanced her big rear end on the fence and took her hand off the wooden beam, wrapping it around the body of her Nikon to support the lightweight camera.
With her eyes on the prize, she took a deep breath, steadied her hand, and aimed, shooting several pictures in rapid succession. The action shots showcased the pure athleticism of the man. Of course, she couldn’t help but also capture his rugged good looks.
Russell clicked his heels against the horse’s side causing him to switch directions and head toward her. She took a few more pictures of him riding toward her before lowering the camera.
When he stopped a few feet away from her, she spoke, “Hey, cowboy.”
With the tip of his index finger, he tilted the brim of his hat up, enabling her to peer deep into the emerald pools of his eyes. “Ansel Adams, my how you’ve changed.”
“Something in the water.”
“I’d say.” He nodded his head at her camera. “Do you have a license for that thing or merely a learner’s permit?”
“Full-fledged license.” She raised the camera a bit as she spoke with pride about her baby. “I can parallel park this beauty like nobody’s business.”
“I bet you can.” His upper lip twitched a bit as if he was biting back his laughter. “What are you doing up so early?”
Damn, he was cute
. “Taking in the scenery.” She brought the camera up more, aligned the viewer with her eye, and took a picture of him, before lowering the camera once more. “What about you?”
“Working my girl out.” He ran his hand down the horse’s dark brown mane. The loving way he caressed the animal made Tamara want to prance and neigh, just to get a sample of his touch. Wait! What! Did she really just think that? “Since I only get to see her on the weekends, I have to pay her a little attention so she doesn’t get it in her head I’m stepping out on her.”
“We wouldn’t want that, now would we?”
“No, we wouldn’t.” He smiled in that irresistibly devastating way of his that just made her trigger finger itch. And if she, a dark-skinned, brother-loving, city-dwelling girl, wanted to pull his shirt up and wipe the sweat from his body with her panties…while she was still wearing them, then other women with less crazy notions would simply melt.
The images of money and naked cowboys danced in her head. Inspired, she flashed him what she hoped was a charming grin, and said, “Why don’t you do a couple of tricks for me on that pony of yours, so I can take some pictures? I’ll immortalize you.” She eyed him thoughtfully. “Anyone ever tell you you’re too pretty to live?”
From the way his eyes widened, she could tell she’d shocked him. “No, I can honestly say that’s never come up in conversation.”
And they were the lesser for it in her book. “You should let me photograph you.”
“You are,” he said drily.
“No, I mean really. Like in my studio.”
Under bright lights while you wear nothing but your hat and a smile.
“Studio, with like cheesy backdrops and wagon wheels?”
“No wheels. No cheesy backdrops.”
“Umm…no.”
“What are you afraid of?” she challenged. “I thought you mentioned something yesterday about your being able to”—she paused, as if searching for the right word—“handle me.”
“I can.”
“Then what’s there to worry about?”
Russell threw back his head and laughed. He took off his hat and slapped it on his thigh, stirring up the dust before slapping it back on his head.
“What?”
“Do you really think you’re going to back me into a corner and make me change my mind? I’m a lawyer, Tamara, or did you forget?”
“You’re not a lawyer. You’re a cowboy. The sooner you realize it, the better off we both will be.” And the sooner she’d get her photos.
“Just when I’m out here.”
“I don’t think so.” There was a lot Tamara didn’t know about this lifestyle, but something told her that being a cowboy wasn’t something someone just turned on and off at will. It was something inbred in their DNA, like eye color and male pattern baldness. She brought the camera back up to her eye. “Why don’t you put that thing in reverse and unbutton a few of those buttons for me?”
“I’m quite sure you’re treading the lines of sexual harassment here.”
Tamara tilted her head to the side and studied him. “What’s your point?”
“Good day, Ms. Tamara.”
“Aww, come on,” she whined, while with a flick of his wrist he put the horse back in motion and galloped away. “This isn’t over, cowboy,” she muttered, lowering the camera once more. “Far from it.”
Tamara wasn’t one to let anything stand in her way once she had her mind made up, and she definitely had her mind made up about him and her cowboy photos. Now all she had to do was convince him and the cuties around the Dollar to pose for her.
It was going to be a piece of cake.
* * *
“Are you sure this is a good idea?”
“Nope.” Ty slipped his hands in dark jean pockets and leaned back against the porch railing. “But her doctor okayed the occasional outing as long as she didn’t tire herself out or stand for too long. Unfortunately, she mentioned that in front of Charlotte, so short of tying her ass to the bed, I have to actually let her leave the house every now and then.”
Russell felt the need to point out the obvious. “But the Watering Hole is rowdy and loud.”
“That it is, but we’re just having dinner and maybe half a turn on the dance floor, not participating in a hoedown.” His nervousness seemed to amuse Ty, but hey, he couldn’t help it.
In fact, he couldn’t understand how the other man could be so cavalier about the whole thing. Charlotte, adore her as he did, looked like she was a second away from popping like the swollen balloon she was. If she were his wife, he’d have laid down the law a long time ago and forced her to stay home. Then again, his stubbornness was more than likely one of the reasons he wasn’t married to this day. “Fine, all I’m saying is, if she goes into labor, I’m out of there.”
“What a good uncle you’re going to be.”
“Hey, my job is to spoil the kid, not mind the momma.”
“Good point.” Ty laughed. “How’re things shaping up at your place?”
Just thinking about his unfinished home had Russell seething. The crew he’d hired to work on his house was a few men short for the weekend shift. For the money he was paying them extra to work on Saturday and Sunday, he would have figured the contractor would have hired more men, especially knowing Russell always showed up on the weekends. But that would have been too much like right. So instead of spending just a few hours at his place, he’d spent the entire day breaking his back helping out to keep everything on schedule. Thus far his weekend away from work had been nothing but work.
“Man, don’t get me started. Do you remember that movie
The Money Pit
?” He waited until Ty nodded his head before he continued. “Well, just take Tom Hanks out as male lead and draw me in, and you have my house.”
“What’s wrong?”
Russell didn’t even know where to start. “What isn’t wrong is a better question. I spent all freaking day digging holes looking for my septic tank.”
“You lost your septic tank?” His voice was filled with confusion.
“
I
didn’t lose shit.” Russell wanted to get that straight. This whole debacle was not his fault. Just his problem.
“Pun intended?”
Smart-ass
. Unamused, Russell shot Ty an aggravated look. “Do you want to hear this story or not?”
“Sorry.” Ty’s words might have said one thing, but the way his lip was twitching said something entirely different. “Proceed.”
So Russell did, filling the other man in on all the details that had taken his weekend from heaven to hell. Just being able to vent his frustrations to his friend made it marginally better, but only slightly.
“Wow.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Man, if you don’t want to go out tonight, I’ll understand.”
“Nah. I need to get out and clear my head. I need some distractions of the worst sort.” And in the worst way. “Speaking of distraction, how’s Tamara’s visit going? Is Charlotte having a good time?”
“Oh yeah. Every time I turn around, I hear giggling. I have no idea what the hell they’re talking about, but it must be funny as hell.”
“Speaking of funny. You’ll never believe what Tamara said to me today.”
“What?”
“She wanted me to pose for her.”
“Pose?”
“Yeah.” He smiled at the startled looked on his friend’s face. “That was about what my reaction was too.”
“Well, what did you say?”
“What do you think I said?” Russell replied in a dry tone. “No.”
“How come?”
“Do I look like the Marlboro Man to you?”
Ty tilted his head to the side as if he was studying him. “Maybe a bit around the eyes.”
“Right.”
“I wouldn’t go dismissing her outright. Tamara is the real deal. I’ve seen some of her work. She has talent. In fact, if I recall correctly, Charlotte mentioned something about her having a show coming up soon.”
As impressed by that as he was, Russell just couldn’t imagine posing for Tamara. The woman saw too much as it was. “If you think it’s such a good idea, why don’t you pose?”
“She didn’t ask me.”
Likely story
. Russell opened his mouth to speak, but was stopped before a single word edged past his lips by the opening of the front door.
Charlotte and Tamara strolled outside, arm in arm, smiling and laughing. For the first time in a long while, Charlotte didn’t look miserable in her pregnancy. She wore a navy blue summer dress that somehow managed to showcase her ever-growing tummy without taking away from the rest of her lovely figure. She appeared more at ease than he’d seen in a good while. In fact, she seemed to glow with inner happiness. The only thing to outshine her, though, was her companion.
Tamara looked utterly and completely jaw-dropping, cock-hardening sexy. Startled by his thoughts, Russell blinked a few times, wondering if this was the same woman who’d ridden in with him just the other day. Her dark, shoulder-length hair was curled in bouncy ringlets that framed her pretty, round face. She was wearing a short black skirt that showed off her long legs and rounded, full rear. And her low-cut red top accentuated her bountiful breasts.
It took an act of God to keep his jaw from dropping open at the mouthwatering sight before him.
“Don’t you ladies look lovely!” Ty said, apparently unaffected by the other woman’s charms.
Not to be outdone by the other man, Russell spoke as well. “Yes, very lovely.”
“Why, thank you.” Charlotte preened under her husband’s attention, while Tamara looked on with unsuppressed amusement.