Tall, Tanned & Texan

by Kimberly Raye

  “Oh. Um, of course.” Deanie’s cheeks burned and she shifted in the leather chair where she sat in front of a massive chrome and glass desk.

  Windows lined one wall, giving a spectacular view of a lush garden area surrounded by a sparkling pond being fed by a massive waterfall. Small round tables covered with crisp white linens sat here and there amid the green foliage and colorful tropical flowers. Large, fat candles glittered from the center of each table. A rainbow of spotlights played across the sparkling water.

  “I, um, didn’t really get an overall picture of him.”

  “Because you were too busy staring at his penis,” the security manager said matter-of-factly, shifting forward, his large frame effectively blocking her view of The Falls, the one of a kind restaurant the cab driver had mentioned.

  Deanie gave him her best back-off-buddy look. “I wouldn’t call it staring, at least not by choice. One minute I had my eyes closed and the next, the elevator buzzed. My eyes opened and there it was, hanging right in front of me. I couldn’t help but look.”

  Yeah, right his gaze seemed to say. It took all of her control to keep her fingers from balling into a fist. She wasn’t ten years old anymore. She didn’t have to come up swinging to be taken seriously. She was all grown up. An ultra-femme woman in control of her own destiny.

  Her fingers brushed the soft cotton edge of the sexless T-shirt. Okay, so maybe she wasn’t ultra-femme at the moment. But she was in control. And she wasn’t going to lose her cool and go postal on a man twice her size. Even one who was annoying as hell.

  “Hanging.” He seemed to think before making several notes on his pad. “Meaning it wasn’t erect?”

  “No. That is, I don’t think so.” She shook her head. “What difference does it make?”

  “It helps us to know what we’re dealing with. Is this a harmless exhibitionist—someone who craves attention—or is this someone who gets sexually excited by showing off his goods?” He made a few more notes before tapping his pencil on the edge of the desk. His gaze met hers. “Do you remember anything else about the perpetrator? Other than the fact that he was flaccid?”

  “I…” She conjured the image. “He was old,” she declared after a few thoughtful moments.

  “How do you know?”

  “He had gray hair.” She studied the mental picture still vivid in her head. “I guess it could be premature gray. My oldest brother had his first gray hair at twenty-two. He’s in his thirties and completely salt and pepper now.”

  Mr. H. gave her an exasperated look. “But I thought you didn’t see the perpetrator’s face…” Understanding finally lit his expression and he grunted what sounded like “Oh.”

  “And a saggy butt,” Deanie added. “I saw that part when he was jogging away. I guess that would mean he wasn’t prematurely gray. He had to be old.” She conjured the image again. “Then again, he could just be out of shape. That would bring us back to the premature gray conclusion.”

  “Maybe.” The security guard made several more notes before leaning back in his chair and eyeing her for several moments. “You’re absolutely sure it was a male?” he finally asked. “There’s no chance that it could be a woman?”

  “No.”

  “You’re positive?”

  “Of course. I saw…” It flashed in her mind again and her face burned that much hotter. “Well, you know what I saw.” She swallowed. “It was definitely a male. Maybe an old male, or just an out-of-shape male with premature gray. Either way, it was a man.”

  He gave her a speculative glance before his attention dropped to the notepad. He flipped through several pages and shook his head. “I know you’re sure of what you saw, Miss Codge, but to be honest, it simply doesn’t fit with the other reports we’ve had today.”

  “He’s done it before?”

  “Not he. She. We’ve had three sightings involving a female perpetrator in the past two hours. An elderly woman with gray hair was spotted out by the pool. And again down on the beach.”

  Deanie thought a second. “I’m sorry, but he was definitely a he. Unless it was a really good prosthetic. Then again, wouldn’t she have had breasts?” She shook her head. “I’m sure I would have noticed breasts.” Pretty sure. But he/she had caught her off guard. “It happened really fast.”

  “These things always do.” He pushed to his feet and walked around the desk. “Thank you for coming in.” He shook her hand.

  Deanie stood. “I wish I’d had more time. Not to look at his you-know-what,” she blurted. “To look at everything else.”

  “We’ll be sure to notify you if we find him. Her. It.” He shook his head. “I hope this hasn’t ruined your vacation.”

  “Actually, that took a bad turn long before the elevator incident.” The moment, in fact, that she’d spotted Rance McGraw on her flight out of San Antonio.

  That’s what common sense told her.

  Along with the advice that she should abandon the workshops with Rance and just bide her time. She only had eighteen hours until she boarded the plane for Eden. It wasn’t as if she was missing all that much. Only a few classes. She could easily borrow someone’s notes or ask for a handout. She didn’t really need Rance’s instruction.

  Ah, but she wanted it and so she couldn’t shake the anxiety that gripped her because the clock was ticking, the minutes slipping away.

  She picked up her steps as she left the security office and headed back up to her room to change for their meeting down in the lobby.

  She’d just stepped off the elevator on her floor—all the while giving thanks that she’d avoided any naked men along the way—when she spotted Rance at the far end of the hallway.

  He leaned against the wall that faced her door, his arms folded and his beat-up straw Resistol tipped low. He wore his usual flip-flops and a new pair of blue-and-white flower-print board shorts that hung low on his trim waist. A crisp white T-shirt hugged his shoulders and arms and created a stark contrast against his tanned skin. Her heart revved into overdrive and her body went on red alert.

  She became instantly aware of the soft cotton that covered her torso and the plastic flip-flops that cushioned her sore feet.

  Great. Friggin’ great.

  What was wrong with her? She should have put on her new sundress and heels before going to the security office. And some makeup. And she definitely should have done something with her hair besides pulling it back into a ponytail.

  But she’d been in a hurry to report the incident and so she hadn’t had time to even glance in the mirror, much less worry over her appearance. She’d pulled on the first thing she’d seen—the T-shirt and sweats she’d purchased during her rush of insecurity down in the gift shop—and had headed back downstairs.

  Okay, so maybe she’d spotted the sundress first, but she’d been freaked out and in desperate need of something comfortable.

  Familiar.

  Her memory stirred and she saw herself standing on the sidelines after a Friday night football game. She’d been waiting for Rance to come off the field so that she could congratulate him on another win. She’d seen him and waved, but he hadn’t looked past the handful of cheerleaders—with their long legs and tiny waists and perky breasts—that lingered near the fifty yard line.

  Deanie had been twelve then and not the least bit interested in having breasts, period, much less perky ones. The one and only training bra her father had bought for her itched like crazy and so she’d left it stuck in the back of the drawer and worn an undershirt instead.

  And that’s why he noticed them and not you.

  Where the clothes had made her feel oddly secure earlier, she now had the sudden urge to rip them off and burn them before it was too late.

  Before he realizes you’re still the same old Deanie.

  She stiffened at the thought. She wasn’t the same. She was different now, even if she didn’t look it at that particular moment.

  Or feel it.

  She shook away the last notion and scrambl
ed for a plan. All she had to do was make a quick escape into her room, wiggle into the sexy dress and slap on some makeup. She would forget all about her momentary lapse into the old Deanie, and so would Rance.

  She pulled back her shoulders, pasted on a smile and tried for the sexiest, and fastest walk she could manage in a pair of flip-flops.

  The slap-slap of her shoes drew Rance’s attention and he turned. His gaze collided with hers as he pushed away from the wall.

  “I know I’m late,” she said as she came up to him. “Give me ten minutes and I’ll meet you downstairs.” She grabbed the door handle and pushed her key card into the slot before pulling it back out. The green light on the lock refused to come on and the door remained locked. She tried the card again. Still no green light.

  So much for a quick escape.

  “What happened?” his deep voice sounded right behind her and she knew he was close. Too close. The hair on the back of her neck prickled and her hands trembled.

  “I saw a naked man,” she told him as she fed the card into the slot a third time. Or at least she tried.

  “A what?”

  “A naked man. On the elevator.” What was it with the stupid key? “At least, I think it was a man.” She went for try number four. The door remained locked.

  “What did he look like?”

  “I don’t really know.”

  “How big was he?”

  She was not going there again. “I’m not sure. I didn’t get a really good look at him.” Come on key, she prayed. Work. Please work. “Just a, um, certain body part.”

  “You were on the elevator with him and you didn’t see anything but his—”

  “I was preoccupied,” she cut in, whipping the key free and jiggling the door handle.

  “Slow down,” he murmured a split second before one hand slid around her waist. His other came up to cover hers as she tried to press the key card into the slot yet again. His lips brushed her ear and desire sizzled through her. “You have to slide it in nice and slow if you want a good connection.”

  With his hard body pressed against hers and his scent surrounding her, scrambling her common sense, the only thing she could think of was him sliding into her. Nice and slow. Again and again.

  “I…I’m doing it.”

  “Not yet,” he said, his voice so raw and husky that she knew he was talking about more than just unlocking her door.

  He guided her trembling fingers to the slot, eased the card inside and the green light lit.

  “Thanks,” she murmured as the handle turned and the door opened.

  “My pleasure.” His lips grazed her ear again and a shiver zigzagged down her spine. “So tell me,” he said, making no move to slide his arm free of her waist. “What were you so preoccupied with on the elevator?”

  You.

  She licked her lips and tried to ignore the warm pull of his body behind her and the press of his hot palm against her stomach. His touch seemed to burn through the thin cotton of her T-shirt…

  Ohmigod, the T-shirt.

  “Nothing important,” she blurted as reality zapped her and a wave of self-consciousness washed through her.

  His arm tightened around her for a heart-stopping moment, as if he meant to question her further, but then his hand fell away and she found herself free.

  Deanie gathered her scattered common sense and stepped into the room. “I’ll meet you down in the lobby.” She turned to close the door on him, but he’d already followed her in.

  “I’ll wait here.” He walked toward the windows that spanned the length of one wall and overlooked the white sand beach. The setting sun bobbed on the horizon and cast an orange glow on the endless stretch of ocean. “You’ve got a perfect view.”

  A perfectly romantic view for a couple deeply and desperately in love.

  She ignored the burst of longing that went through her at the sudden thought. She didn’t love Rance. She didn’t want to love him. She just wanted one night with him—this night—to ease the sting of rejection she’d felt so long ago and satisfy the lust for him that still kept her up at night.

  Turning toward the closet, she busied herself retrieving her outfit. She was about to race into the bathroom to get dressed when her cell phone rang.

  She had half a mind not to answer it, but then she remembered Miss Margie’s message and she realized it might be the old woman.

  She can leave a message.

  She could, but then Deanie would have even more guilt to deal with. She felt bad enough that she’d left her customers to Harwin. She wouldn’t make things worse by not answering questions during a time of need.

  Besides, she liked Miss Margie.

  But if it was anyone else, she wasn’t picking up.

  No way. No how.

  She snatched up the cell phone and glanced at the caller ID display. Judy Louise Eldenheimer

  Okay, so it wasn’t Miss Margie. But Deanie liked Miss Judy, too. The old woman had baked the best sugar cookies in town and she’d brought Deanie a baker’s dozen each and every time she’d had to bring her car into the shop. Since she’d driven an ancient Buick with a fading transmission, that had been at least once a month. Of course, she’d brought the cookies in lieu of payment, but Deanie hadn’t minded. She’d loved those sugar cookies. Even more, she’d loved the way Miss Judy had decorated the cookie box with lots of lace and pearls and frilly ribbon, as if Deanie weren’t just a mechanic but a woman who appreciated the prettier things in life. And so Deanie had gladly accepted the goodies and forfeited her labor charges. Parts had been a different matter, but she’d given them to Miss Judy at cost—without Big Daddy’s knowledge, of course—and saved the old woman who’d lived on a fixed income a small fortune.

  Yep, she liked Miss Judy and so she couldn’t help the rush of worry that went through her when she saw the old woman’s name.

  She pressed the on button. “Miss Judy? What’s wrong?”

  RANCE SANK into a nearby chair and watched Deanie’s expression go from worried to relieved.

  “That’s nothing to worry over. Tell Harwin to change the transmission fluid—” Her words scrambled to a halt as her gaze collided with Rance’s. “Excuse me a second, Miss Judy.” She covered the mouthpiece. “This is sort of private,” she told Rance as she gathered up her dress and shoes and the phone. “I’ll just be a few minutes.” She fled into the bathroom.Rance had half a mind to follow her in. Not to hear her conversation, but to persuade her to answer his question about what she’d been preoccupied with on the elevator. Had she been thinking about him? About her near orgasm by the pool? He had a hunch she had, but he wanted to hear the words.

  He needed to hear them.

  But following her would put her close again and he wasn’t in any hurry to test his already shaky control. It was all about seducing her at this point, not pressing her up against the bathroom wall and driving his penis deep inside her hot little body. He knew she wouldn’t resist him—the chemistry between them was too intense—but he didn’t just want her compliance. He wanted…her. All of her. Willing and eager and excited.

  The way she’d been that night.

  Rance gathered his control, reached for the remote control and flipped through the television channels. He’d just settled on a bull riding competition being broadcast live from Las Vegas when Deanie finally emerged from the bathroom.

  “Ready,” she breathed, drawing his full attention.

  She wore the sundress he’d seen her purchase in the boutique, a pair of high heels that arched her back. Her legs seemed longer, an endless stretch of pale, smooth skin that started at mid-thigh where her dress ended. Her breasts looked full and rounded beneath the strappy top. Her hair hung loose and flowing. Pink lip gloss slicked her full lips.

  It was all he could do not to cross the room to her and see if she tasted even half as good as she looked.

  She would taste even better. He knew that from the storage closet at the airport and he also knew that once he started k
issing her again, he wasn’t going to be able to stop.

  Which was why Rance intended to let her initiate the next kiss between them. He could do any and everything, from running his hands through her silky hair, to licking every inch of her body. That was just sex. But kissing? That went much deeper and so he wouldn’t do it again.

  Willing and eager and excited.

  “What was so private about a transmission?” he asked as she moved to retrieve her purse.

  Her mouth drew into a tight line. “You eavesdropped?”

  “You mentioned the transmission before you ran into the bathroom. What’s with all the secrecy?”

  “I just wanted to give Miss Judy my full attention.”

  “I wouldn’t have bothered you.”

  “The air conditioner’s a little noisy.”

  “It’s barely humming.”

  She turned on him. “Look, it’s my business, okay?” She shook her head. “I mean, it used to be my business. It’s not anymore, but Miss Judy had a few questions and so I answered them. Her transmission has a slow leak that I’ve been patching for the past year. Nothing that requires a new one at this point. But the mechanics at Big Daddy’s are trying to tell her that’s her only recourse.”

  “You must be a really good mechanic.”

  It was as if his words reminded her of something and she shook her head. “I’m sorry. I know you don’t want to hear shop talk.”

  “Why the career change? Why not just quit Big Daddy and go to work over at Merle’s?” Merle was Big Daddy’s only competition and Rance knew from her reputation under the hood that Merle would have given her a job in a heartbeat.

  “Can you see me do that dressed like this?” Deanie shook her head. “I’m tired of being a mechanic, that’s all.”

  “Is it?” His question made her pause. Her gaze caught his and he saw her anguish. She nibbled her bottom lip as if she couldn’t decide what to say. Or how much to say.

  “I’m a woman,” she finally murmured. “But nobody treats me like one. Sure, I’ve had the occasional boyfriend, but it’s never been anything serious. I want serious.” Desperation and a fierce sense of longing filled her eyes. “I’m tired of sitting home alone on Friday nights. I want to share my life with someone. I want them to bring me roses and remember my birthday.” She blinked, her eyes suddenly bright and Rance’s chest tightened. “I know that sounds crazy. I mean, the closest I’ve come to a dozen roses was the time I mowed over Mrs. Willaby’s prize-winning bush that summer I was helping my brother, Cory, cut yards for extra money.” She shook her head. “I was always one of the boys. But I’m not now. I’m a woman and I want to feel like one.” The moment the words were out, she clamped her mouth shut for a long moment, as if she regretted saying anything. “That sounds crazy, huh?”