Wrangled and Tangled

by Lorelei James

  “Nothin’. Bet this is a New Year’s Eve you won’t ever forget.”

  “I won’t.” Tierney touched his cheek. “Not ever.”

  “You don’t mind that I dragged you on top of a barn, I’m plying you with cheap booze and you’re freezing your ass off?”

  “No. I’m glad it’s just you and me, checking out the view, sipping schnapps, snuggling up to stay warm.”

  “It ain’t fancy appetizers, Cristal and a black tie gig at a swanky Chicago hotel.”

  “No. It’s much better.” She scooted closer to rest her head on his shoulder. “Do you know how I spent last New Year’s?”

  “No.”

  “Neither do I.”

  He didn’t laugh because she hadn’t meant it to be funny. He passed her the bottle and she took a swig.

  “I don’t want you to think I’m pathetic, but I’ve never had the big New Year’s date or been invited to a cool party.”

  “Did that bother you?”

  “Some. I’d convinced myself parties were overrated and just an excuse for people to get stinking drunk and take no responsibility for their bad behavior.”

  “That’s what it ends up bein’ most of the time. Too much booze, too many promises that are forgotten the next morning in the wake of a wicked hangover.”

  “What about you? Did you rip it up with your woman du jour?”

  Renner trailed his lips down the curve of her jaw. “Once or twice. For the last six years there’s been a rodeo in Oklahoma that prides itself on bein’ the first rodeo of the New Year, and it always starts at midnight. Which meant me’n Pritchett spent the hours leading up to the rodeo getting ready for it and the hours after it loading up to race to the next rodeo.”

  “Do you make a New Year’s resolution every year?”

  “Nope. I made one years ago and I’ve managed to keep it.”

  Tierney raised her head and looked at him. “What was it?”

  “Guess.”

  “You swore off marriage?”

  He smirked. “That had nothin’ to do with a New Year’s promise. Try again.”

  “You decided to work out every day to maintain this slamming body,” she cooed.

  “Flattery will get you everywhere with me, but you’re wrong again. Last chance.”

  “Shoot.” She pushed her glasses up her nose. “You’ve vowed never to have a job where you can’t wear shitkickers to work.”

  “Wrong.” He offered her the bottle but she declined.

  “Oh, come on. You can’t just say something like that and not tell me.”

  All of a sudden Renner wished he would’ve kept his mouth shut. There was a reason he never talked about this stuff.

  Her gloved fingers were on his chin, turning his face toward hers. “Tell me. Trust me.”

  And he found himself doing just that. “In my teens I figured out my dad loved his best friend. He’d probably been in love with the guy his whole life. His best friend felt the same, but they weren’t together, not like they wanted to be. It made me sad. Made me realize I’d rather deal with failure than live with regret.”

  Her eyes filled with tears. She kissed him so gently he had the insane urge to belt out that he loved her. But he closed his eyes and lost himself in the loving touch of this woman who meant more to him than she could ever imagine.

  She said, “Thank you for telling me.”

  “Thanks for not bailing off the roof when you heard my barnyard philosophy.” He felt her smile against his neck and whispered, “Your turn. Tell me your resolution.”

  “Last year around Valentine’s Day I decided I wanted a different life. When the contract came across my desk for the Split Rock, I saw it as my chance. It’s been the best thing I’ve ever done, Renner. I want you to know that.”

  “I believe you. I’ve been thinkin’. I want you to come to Denver with me next week for the National Western Stock Show. Since there are no guests scheduled, I know you’ll just hole up in your cabin all by yourself and work. You deserve a break, so take it with me. It’ll be fun.”

  His request momentarily startled her. Then she casually asked, “What would we do in Denver?”

  “My manager will be there and I have meetings scheduled to deal with upcoming stock contracts for various rodeos. When I’m done with that we could do whatever you wanted. Go out to eat. Go to the rodeo. Wander through the vendor stands. Hang out at the sale barns and look at bulls. Or hole up in our hotel room and fuck each other until we can’t walk.”

  She fussed with her glasses. “We’d be alone?”

  “With the exception of the thousands of people that flock to the stock show every year. Yeah. It’d just be us.”

  “Okay. Let’s do it.”

  “Good.” His watch beeped, signaling midnight.

  He murmured, “Happy New Year, Tierney.”

  “Happy New Year, Renner.”

  He slid his hand around the back of her neck, bringing her mouth to his, giving her a kiss she’d never forget. But as the kiss deepened, he knew it was a kiss he’d never forget either.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Since Renner had meetings all day, Tierney opted to entertain herself on their last day at the National Western Stock Show. She wandered through the vendor booths at the arena.

  She’d watched him in action at the Split Rock and admired his affability with guests and employees. But as Renner Jackson, proprietor of Jackson Stock Contracting, the man oozed charisma. His knowledge of the world of rodeo stock contracting staggered her. Not only did everyone like him; everyone respected him. She also realized the Split Rock’s success hinged on him. On his connections. Chances were high the venture would’ve failed if he wasn’t involved on a day-to-day basis.

  Tierney wondered how their time away together would change them. She understood sneaking around could heighten the intensity of their feelings. Especially since they’d started out adversaries and wound up in a red-hot love affair. But they’d slipped into couplehood easily. There’d been little adjustment in sharing a hotel room, maybe because they’d been sharing a bed most nights anyway. This trip just cemented the idea she wanted to be “out” as a couple with him all the time.

  “Tierney?”

  She turned toward Celia and was enveloped in a hug. “Hey!”

  “I’m so glad you called me.” Celia signaled for Tierney to spin around. “Oh man, look at you. A couple of months in Wyoming and you’re rockin’ the Western wear.”

  “I never would’ve picked this outfit for myself, but Harper has an eye for style.”

  “With the exception of that hideous turquoise number she chose for me to wear for her wedding. Soon as I saw it I wondered what I’d done to piss her off. God. Talk about a Scarlett O’Hara meets the madam of a whorehouse bridesmaid’s dress.”

  Tierney laughed.

  Celia started down the long corridor, wall to wall with people. “I imagine Harper is still wearing that well-fucked look of a newlywed?”

  “I guess that’s one way of putting it.”

  She waved to someone before focusing on Tierney. “I’ll warn ya. I’m not in the finals so I’m feelin’ really rude and crude. If you have an aversion to raw language from your drinkin’ buddy, maybe we’d best say our good-byes here.”

  “Bring it on, cowgirl. If I can go toe to toe with Garnet and her gang, I can handle you.”

  “Hell yeah. That’s what I’m talkin’ about, letting loose the wild woman lurking beneath the classy business suit.”

  Several different bars ringed the event center. They paid the cover charge to a makeshift honky-tonk with sawdust on the floor. Metal tubs filled with ice and beer stretched behind the long bar. Women clad in skimpy bikini tops and silver-fringed chaps passed out free samples of chewing tobacco and posed for pictures. A mix of country and pop music blared from all corners of the room. The cheesy setup seemed to be a caricature of a Western bar, and yet, entirely accurate.

  The male bartender didn’t look comfortable in
a plaid shirt and a straw hat. Funny how after only a few months in Wyoming, Tierney immediately separated real cowboys from poseurs.

  “I’ll have a Bud Light. Tierney, what about you?”

  “Same.”

  Celia dug in her front jeans pocket and pulled out a roll of bills. “First round is on me. Let’s sit there.”

  They grabbed barstools at a table between the main door and the bar by the dance floor. Celia chinked her bottle to Tierney’s. “To cold beer and hot men.”

  “Amen.” Tierney drank and felt curious stares, not all of them aimed at Celia. She caught the eye of a lanky cowboy in a gray hat, boasting a gigantic gold and silver championship belt buckle. He flashed his pearly whites and lifted his bottle to her.

  Whoa. Men rarely gifted her with a smoldering once over. Maybe her tight pink shirt had caught his notice.

  Or maybe it’s your sexual confidence. You’re acting like a woman who knows how to please her man between the sheets.

  Damn straight. She did please Renner in bed. She pleased him out of it too. And she really felt these last few months she’d come into her own. She finally was figuring out what she wanted, not trying to please everyone else.

  “How long have you been in Denver?” Celia asked.

  “Five days. I didn’t call you earlier because I figured you’d be busy.” Tierney sipped her beer and wondered how long before Celia asked the question.

  The wait wasn’t long at all. “So you’re here with Renner Jackson? You guys double-teaming the slavering masses to pimp the Split Rock?”

  “Not really. He had meetings scheduled with rodeo promoters. Since I’ve never been to a stock show, I was curious and tagged along.”

  “Uh-huh. This is the man whose handsome face met the business end of your drink at Bran and Harper’s wedding reception a few months back?”

  “One and the same.”

  “How long you been screwing around with him?” Celia pointed her bottle. “Don’t deny it. I’d think less of you if you weren’t nailing him at every opportunity. Jesus. Renner is a fine specimen of manly goodness.”

  “No argument from me. We’ve been . . . hooking up for a couple months.”

  “Is that all it is? Hooking up? Someone to scratch the itch when you need it?”

  Tierney sighed. “Honestly? I don’t know. At times it feels like more than sex. Most of the time actually. He’s just so . . . great. I feel great when I’m with him.”

  “Does it feel like love?” Celia gently prompted.

  “Yes. It does. But it feels one-sided.”

  “On whose side?”

  “Mine. And it doesn’t help that we’re keeping our involvement on the down low. No one who works at the Split Rock is aware we’re involved.”

  Celia’s eyebrows rose. “Not even Janie or Harper?”

  She shook her head. “We’ve been discreet.”

  “Takin’ you to the National Western Stock Show and introducing you to his colleagues ain’t exactly discreet, T.”

  “True. But I don’t know what it means.” She drained her beer. “I don’t have tons of experience with men or relationships so I’m sort of flying blind.”

  “Before I hit the road, I’d been with one guy. And he didn’t even know that I was . . .” An embarrassed look crossed her face. “Needless to say, I was determined to sow my wild oats once I started running the circuit.”

  “Have you been getting wild?”

  “Some. Not as much as people think. Or maybe I oughta say, not as much as I’ve led people to believe.”

  The waitress dropped off the beer and Tierney paid. But Celia ordered two shots of whiskey. “I assume both those shots are for you?”

  “Nope,” Celia answered.

  “But I don’t drink whiskey.”

  “You do when you’re with me.”

  Tierney laughed. “And since we’re trading off rounds, that means I have to buy shots?”

  “Yep.” Celia grinned. “We’re gonna have some fun tonight.”

  Tierney managed to knock back the shot without coughing or gagging.

  A couple of hot guys moseyed over and chatted with Celia, who flirted shamelessly. After they left, Celia said, “I hope we won’t be kicking ourselves for not taking them up on their offer.”

  “Renner might frown on me sneaking off to a private hot tub party with two cowboys. Wouldn’t the guy you’re seeing have an issue with it?”

  “Breck?” She shrugged. “Nah. We’re keeping it casual. That works best for us.”

  “But didn’t this Breck guy whisk you off to an island getaway for Christmas?” Tierney had caught the end of a conversation between Harper, Lainie and Janie at the New Year’s party about why Celia hadn’t come home for Christmas.

  “He took me to Jamaica for two glorious weeks. But Breck is loaded and he didn’t wanna go home for Christmas any more than I did.” Celia smiled tightly. “I’m sure that sounds horrible. Don’t get me wrong. I adore my brothers. But Hank and Lainie were spending their first Christmas in their new house. With Lainie bein’ pregnant and all, I didn’t want to impose, although both of them would’ve assured me it wasn’t an imposition. And Abe, well, he and Janie need to figure some stuff out. I’d just be in the way again. Harper and Bran have room for me in that huge freakin’ house, but it’s their first Christmas as a married couple and I’d be a third wheel. So it was better that I packed a half-dozen bikinis and spent my Christmas vacation lounging on the beach drinking mai tais.”

  “I see your point.” The music was cranked a little louder. Trying to hold a conversation without yelling became tough so they drank and watched people pour into the bar.

  Time came for Tierney to buy a round of shots. She held her glass to Celia’s. “To smooth whiskey and rough men.”

  Celia tossed back her shot. “I’ll have to remember that one.”

  Another round of beer meant a trip to the ladies’ room. When Tierney returned, she was surprised to see a familiar face from Muddy Gap. The man Celia had referred to as the bane of her existence. He’d shoved a barstool at the head of the elevated four-top table right next to Celia—not that she paid any attention to him.

  When he noticed her, he stood. “You must be Tierney. I’m Kyle Gilchrist.”

  “Good to meet you, Kyle.”

  “Now that you’re back to save our table, I’m gonna pop over and say hi to some folks,” Celia announced.

  “Celia,” Kyle said sharply, “you’re not listening. I said Breck is lookin’ for you.”

  “And I said so what.” She drained her beer, signaling the waitress for another. “It’s not like it’s a secret where I am. I’m where I’ve been all fuckin’ week.”

  Kyle glanced at Tierney. “How much has she been drinkin’?”

  “She can answer for herself, and the answer is none of your goddamned business. I’m not drivin’, I’m not doin’ a striptease on the bar, so fuck off. I don’t want you here, Kyle, because you’re a buzzkill.”

  “That right?” He invaded her space and whispered directly in her ear.

  Tierney noticed that while Celia’s hand on the table curled into an angry fist, she also closed her eyes and went very still when Kyle’s mouth was so close.

  “There you are, Kyle. Thanks for tracking her down for me.” The guy glanced at Tierney and smiled as he sat next to Celia. “You saved us seats.” He thrust his hand across the table. “Breck Christianson.”

  “Tierney Pratt.”

  “Tierney. A beautiful name.” His eyes swept her face and chest with frank male appreciation. “For a beautiful woman.”

  Talk about good-looking. Breck had curly coal-black hair, which he wore longer than the short cut most cowboys preferred. His dark blue eyes were fringed with thick black eyelashes and his dimpled smile hinted at sinful devilry. Broad across the shoulders and chest, with heavily muscled arms, he resembled a comic book superhero more than a rodeo cowboy. “It’s nice to meet you, Breck.”

  “I’m so ver
y pleased to meet you, Tierney,” he drawled seductively.

  “Stop dripping testosterone all over her,” Celia snapped. “You’re a man’s man who loves the ladies. We get it.”

  Breck laughed and curled his hand around Celia’s neck, bringing her in for a thorough kiss. “I love it when you get all mouthy on me, sugar pie.”

  Tierney looked elsewhere and expected her discomfort to be mirrored in Kyle’s eyes, but Kyle’s entire posture was closed off. His face was a blank mask.

  Chairs scraped and the table wobbled.

  “Tierney, meet my buddies, Skeeter, Davy and Michael,” Breck said.