a change last night? Especially after I spent sixteen grueling hours on the road? But no. I had to go to you. And then, I got exactly two hours of sleep before I had to get up and start chores this morning. So, yeah, I’m snappy because I’m freakin’ tired, okay?”
“You didn’t have to come over last night. I knew you’d be tired. I would’ve understood.”
“I’m thrilled you’re so understanding. I know my crappy rental isn’t as nice as your cabin or what you’re used to—”
“Don’t go there, Renner.”
“Why not? It’s obvious you won’t go there, and by there, I mean you won’t lower yourself to cross my humble tin threshold.”
“You’re being an ass.”
He snorted. “Like that’s news to you.”
Tierney’s cell phone trilled. She was torn for two rings. Then she pulled it out and answered angrily, “This is Tierney Pratt,” as she walked off.
Chapter Twenty-five
Pompous prick.
How was she supposed to know this stuff about sleeping arrangements? Had the man forgotten she’d been a virgin until recently?
Tierney had no precedent for this and she’d had no clue it bothered Renner so much.
Wouldn’t it bother you?
Yes. But the idiot had still hurt her feelings. Reverting to the dick-ish behavior that defined their previous relationship. She’d gotten pissed and walked off. So technically, they’d both regressed.
Fantastic. What was she supposed to do now? Show up on his doorstep wrapped in cellophane with a bow on her freakin’ head?
She huddled in her coat against the side of the building. It sucked she didn’t have anyone she could talk to. Harlow would ask if she was involved with Renner to spite their father. Her friend Josie’s longtime boyfriend had recently dumped her. Sari would encourage her to meditate to find an answer. Celia must’ve been on a winning streak because she wasn’t returning Tierney’s calls. Janie . . . nope.
On a whim, she ducked the wind and breezed into Wild West Clothiers. Harper looked up with surprise. “Tierney. What brings you by?”
“Nothing in particular. I, ah . . . to be honest, I needed a mental break, so I might just wander and see what’s new.”
“Let me know if you have any questions. I’ll be unpacking in the back.”
From the beginning Tierney questioned the wisdom of a dedicated retail space to sell specialized merchandise. She’d even suggested increasing the size of the art gallery and keeping the Western wear section small.
Which showed she wasn’t always right. They’d sold only two pieces out of the art gallery and the retail store flourished. Harper had a great eye for detail, for design, for creating the shabby chic vibe many tried, but few could pull off. Between her and Janie, they’d turned the space into a retro, funky, Western place where both men and women would feel comfortable shopping. Harper had pushed for a men’s section, pointing out that not all men came to the Split Rock with a female. Wise suggestion, since Harper had sold a pair of boots to almost every man who’d walked through the door.
Tierney scanned the blouses. Cute or sexy but none her style. As much as she loved the flash of rhinestone belts, not her style either. Harper had amassed an amazing assortment of handbags. Every style from ones fashioned out of old license plates, to ones crafted from old vinyl records, to ones studded with vintage bottle caps, to leather and hide ones dotted with brass nail heads and beads.
“Finding anything?” Harper asked, startling her.
“There’s a lot to choose from. You’ve done a fantastic job setting this place up.”
“Thanks. I love my job. But I love my job a little too much sometimes.”
Tierney rested her arm on a clothing rack. “And how’s that?”
“I have more merchandise packed away because there’s no place to put it on the floor. I intentionally keep some back to rotate in new stock, but I wish I had more room.” She pointed to the gallery. “It’d be a better use of space to display the Western art in the hallways, at the lodge and dining area, and expand the retail store.”
“You think so?”
Harper nodded, twisting her wedding ring. “I hope this doesn’t smack of nepotism, but Bran ties flies.” At Tierney’s confused look, she explained, “Ties, for fly fishing? He’s truly an artist. When I’ve worn a pair of decorative earrings he’s crafted out of funky flies, female customers demand to know where I got them. Then male customers want to know where they can buy real ties like those. Which leads me to believe there’s an opportunity to sell handcrafted Wyoming items.”
Intrigued, Tierney asked, “What types of items?”
“A woman outside of Laramie makes soy and beeswax candles. They’re beautifully packaged in glass jars and the scents are to die for. Another woman in Rawlins designs the most unique wire jewelry I’ve ever seen. A husband and wife team from Sheridan raises sheep. The wife spins, dyes and weaves stunning decorative items out of the wool. There’s a company outside of Moorcroft called Sky Blue that manufactures all-natural beauty products.”
When Tierney didn’t immediately respond, Harper blurted, “I’m sorry if I’ve overstepped my boundaries telling you what to do.”
“You haven’t. I’m happy you’ve given this so much thought. You’re on to something, Harper. Something big.”
Her eyes lit up. “You can’t possibly know what that means to hear you say that.”
“I think I do,” she murmured. Just once she’d like to have that same type of “atta girl” from her boss.
“Anyway, what were you looking for when you came in?”
“Something I wouldn’t normally wear, but not so far out of the realm of my normal style that I’d feel weird wearing it.” She sighed. “Sounds vague, doesn’t it?”
“No.” Harper looked thoughtful. “I’ll be right back.” She was gone maybe two minutes and returned with a wad of red fabric. “I found this last week. It’s retro, but not Western, so I wasn’t sure what to do with it.” She fluffed out the dress and Tierney’s breath caught.
The style was a 1940s glam cocktail dress. The upper half was velvet and boasted a keyhole neckline. Long sleeves made from chiffon ended at the wrist with a tiny satin band. A shirred piece of chiffon separated the velvet top from the bottom. The fitted satin skirt ended below the knee, and a ruffle of red netting finished off the dress.
“This is gorgeous. My God. It’s—”
“Perfect for you. For the community Christmas party.”
Tierney glanced at Harper. “You think so?”
“It’s red. It’s sexy. It’s totally you. And my former clients will be dancing the cha-cha, seeing you in this dress.”
“Really? Why?”
“They’ll feel you went all out, in every aspect, to make sure the party is a special event. Because make no mistake, this party means the world to them.”
“Oh, you’re good, Harper. Very good.”
“Thank you.”
“How much?”
Harper bit her lip.
“No discounts,” Tierney warned. “Pretend I walked in off the street, saw this and had to have it. How much?”
When Harper rattled off the amount, Tierney raised her eyebrows. “That’s . . . not discounted at all.”
“It’s vintage Chanel couture. I found it at an estate sale in Colorado in a box of draperies we bought for our house. When I got home I researched it, and wished I was six inches shorter, thirty pounds lighter, and two dress sizes smaller because I would’ve kept it. But it’s ideal for you.”
“I love it. I can’t wait to try it on.”
“I can’t wait to see the look on Renner’s face when he sees you. He’ll be speechless.”
How could Harper know about them? Casually, Tierney said, “What makes you think he’ll care?”
“Because you annoy him.”
She stared at her.
Harper laughed. “No one annoys Renner. Nothing fazes him. But you? You faze him.”
She’d certainly done a bang-up job of annoying him today.
Harper headed to the dressing room. “I’ll get started on writing up the sale while you’re trying this on.”
“Give me time to call the bank so I can take out a loan,” Tierney said.
“It’ll be worth every penny.” Harper’s eyes were on Tierney’s feet. “Do you have the right shoes? Because I have a pair in the back that might work.”
“Oh, you are good, Harper. Very good. Bring them into the dressing room.”
Chapter Twenty-six
The impromptu shopping trip bolstered Tierney’s spirits and vastly improved her mood.
She wasn’t sure how to fix the Renner situation. She’d watched him covertly as he’d spent the evening mingling with the guests. Knocking back a drink. Shooting pool. Giving her no chance to talk to him.
Actions speak louder than words anyway.
A lightbulb pinged in her head and she knew exactly what to do. Ten minutes before last call, she snuck into his trailer. His bed was neatly made and she felt no guilt whatsoever about stripping down to the bare essentials and messing it up.
But as she waited in the pitch dark, she wondered if she’d made a mistake. Given what’d been going on with Janie, maybe Renner kept guns strategically located in case of an intruder.
With that thought, Tierney threw back the covers and raced into the living room, just as Renner stepped through the front door.
“Tierney?”
“Hey. Ah . . . surprise! I was in your room, but got a little paranoid you might shoot me. I’m never sure who’s packing heat out here. I think even docile Dodie has a pistol in her purse.”
Renner snorted and hung up his coat. As he removed his boots, he flicked a glance at the bloodred platform heels on her feet. “You were wearing them shoes in my bed?”
“No.”
He rested his hands on his hips. “Okay. I give. Why are you half-nekkid in my house at ten o’clock at night?”
Wasn’t it obvious why she was here?
That’s when Tierney realized Renner expected she’d take control. If she’d truly come here to seduce him, she’d better prove it.
Despite her nerves, she put on her game face. She permitted a sexy smile, adding an extra swing in her hips as she sashayed to him. “Maybe I’d better show you why I’m here.” She fingered his black neckerchief. An idea formed. “This is handy. Untie it.”
His too-blue eyes gleamed a challenge. “Whatcha gonna do with it, darlin’?”
She tugged on the knotted end. “Take it off or I will.”
An amused smile lifted the corner of his mouth as he untied it and handed it over.
Looping the fabric around his neck, she pulled him into the center of the room. “Stay right here. Don’t move.”
Tierney felt his hungry gaze eating up her backside. She’d worn a deeply cut push-up bra in bright red, pairing it with red-and-black lace boy-short panties. At his dining room set, she purposely bent over the chair—the panties rode up, giving him a peek of her butt cheeks.
He groaned.
Empowered, she picked up the chair and moved it into the living room. Taking his hands in hers, she placed his palms facing up. She unsnapped his cuffs, following his muscled arms over his broad shoulders to the collar of his Western shirt. Click sounded as she released the first pearl snap button. She kissed the exposed section of skin below the hollow of his throat and popped the next button. And the next, rubbing her face against the warm firmness of his chest. When the shirt hung open, she allowed her hands to roam.
God. He was so built. She touched the ridges of his hard abdomen. She curled her fingers over his rib cage, spreading her hands beneath his pectorals to brush her thumbs across his nipples. The hair on his chest was darker than the golden hair on his head. Coarser too. While she kissed his collarbone, she pulled his shirt off and tossed it to the floor.
Gooseflesh dotted Renner’s arms and his whole body remained rigid.
Oh, this was fun. She whispered huskily, “Jeans off. Boxers too.” Then she stepped away to see if he’d obey.
Renner lifted a brow. “You’re serious?”
Tierney lifted a brow right back at him. “Do it now or I leave.”
His clothes came off so fast she wanted to check his skin for fabric burns.
My my. He was already hard. A rush of feminine power rolled through her. Strengthened her resolve. She smiled and gave his impressive body a slow inspection. “Nice. Very, very nice. Now. You get to pick. Eyes or hands.”
“Eyes or hands what?”
“One word or the other. Choose.”
“Fine. Hands.”
“Excellent choice.” She picked up his neckerchief. “Sit and drop your arms around the back of the chair.”
His nostrils flared. “You think you’re tyin’ my hands?”
“Oh, cowboy, I know I’m tying your hands. Unless you want me to leave?”
“Like hell.” Renner flopped onto the chair and held his hands at the base of the rungs. Then his eyes lit with mischief and the corner of his sinful mouth quirked.
Tierney tied one end of the neckerchief around his right wrist and wove the fabric through the chair slats before securing the other end around his left wrist with a tight knot. When she stood in front of him, his cocky smirk was gone. “You think cowboys are the only ones who can tie strong knots?”
“And if I would’ve said eyes?”
“I would’ve blindfolded you.”
“Dammit, Tierney.”
“Don’t pout. You’ll get to use your hands. Later. For now? I get to use mine.” Placing her hands on his shoulders, she swung her leg over his to sit on his lap.
The muscles in Renner’s arms flexed as he tried to free himself to touch her.
“Huh-uh. Now be a good boy.” She felt his dick twitch against her belly. “Oh and get comfy. Because this might take a while.”
Renner muttered.
Tierney threaded her fingers through his hair and kissed the frown lines on his forehead. Lightly placed her lips to his eyebrows. The corners of his eyes. His temples. The small section of flesh in front of his ear. When he shivered, she spent extra time nibbling, sucking and softly blowing on his ears.
The man actually whimpered.
So she gave the other ear the same shiver-inducing treatment.
“Tierney.”
“Mmm. This jawline of yours is so strong and sexy.” She followed the angular bone from side to side, stopping at the halfway point to tongue the dent in his chin.
Mr. Sneaky dropped his head so their mouths connected. Taking advantage of her surprise by sweeping his tongue into her mouth and scorching her lips with one of his fiery kisses.
She let the kiss go on, because she loved kissing him. But she also wanted Renner to think he’d gotten her so flustered that he was about to wrest control from her.
Wrong.
This seduction was powerful stuff. Electrifying. Maybe even addicting. She craved the crush of his body to hers and the moment when he sent her soaring into pure bliss, but she would not be rushed. By her body’s demands or his.
“Tierney,” he muttered against her mouth, “baby, untie me. I’m dyin’ to touch you.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
“Thank God.”
She slid back on his thighs, keeping her balance by pushing the arches of the bottom of her shoes into the legs of the chair. She reached behind to unfasten her bra.
His eyes narrowed. “What are you doin’?”
“You said you wanted to touch me. Your mouth on my nipples counts as touching, don’t you think?”
“You are gonna be in so much . . .”
Wrangled and Tangled Page 24
