He shot Tanner a text and received a response as he started strumming a few bars on his guitar, getting ready for his last song before it was time for a break. He swigged from his nearby water bottle and casually glanced at his phone to see what Tanner wrote.
Dude, I got your back. Come over here as soon as you finish the song. I’ll give you a seat and Zoey can sit on my lap. A win-win. She has someone she wants you to meet anyhow.
Huh. Here’s hoping it wasn’t yet another one of these women out for a scrap of his flesh.
He finished his song then set down his guitar and turned off his mic, standing up to make his way to Tanner’s seat. But a damned reporter nabbed him first.
The woman wedged her microphone right up into his face as her cameraman veered a little, backing into people and almost tripping over Blizzard in the process to try to get the shot.
“Hey, Sully—Brittney Beasley from News Nine. A few minutes of your time?”
She didn’t wait to let him answer that. If it was a question or a statement, he wasn’t sure. Instead she pushed the mic closer to his mouth.
“So, what do you think about the reaction to the ring auction?”
He squinted, pulling a bandana from his back pocket to wipe some sweat from his brow.
“It’s not an auction.”
She waved her hands dismissively. “Freebie, giveaway, whatever.”
“Yeah, well, I’m simply looking for someone who might want it.”
She laughed. “Pretty sure everyone here does, for starters.” She spread her free arm out. “Though I have a feeling they want you with it.”
He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well.”
“What do you think of that?”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I’ve got somewhere to be.”
“Is there a new lady in your life? Is that what precipitated this?”
He waved away the microphone with his hand and started walking toward Tanner.
He gave a quick whistle for his pup though figured he couldn’t hear it over the din anyhow.
As he hurried toward Tanner’s seats, trying to avoid eye contact with everyone in the place, he couldn’t help but glance up, only to see the last woman on the planet he wanted to see tonight throwing him a dirty look that would curl your hair.
As if this night wasn’t bad enough, it was now substantially worse. He scrambled over to Tanner and plunked himself down, pulling Blizzard close for the false sense of protection he lent. Boy did he need another beer.
“WHAT THE HELL IS THAT jerk doing sitting with Tanner?” Izzy hissed out a bit louder than she thought. Everyone nearby turned and stared. Izzy and Zoey been far enough away from the singer that they could only hear him, not see him, during his set. It wasn’t till he took a break that they were able to maneuver through the crowds toward the seats Tanner had been saving. But with that guy there, Izzy wanted nothing to do with going over there.
“What jerk?”
“That’s the guy. The mean guy I met today. The one who ruined my boot.”
Zoey turned toward Izzy and stood still.
“Ummm... You do realize who that is, don’t you?”
“Of course I do. I mean I don’t know the guy’s name, but believe me, I never forget a face. Especially one that belongs to the likes of him.”
Zoey started to laugh as she playfully slapped her friend on the shoulder. “Sweetie. You are badmouthing just about the kindest man within two hundred miles of this bar.”
“What are you talking about?” Izzy could barely disguise her annoyance, deliberately throwing daggers his way for good measure.
Zoey pointed at Sully, then pointed at her left ring finger, then nodded.
“I still have no idea what you’re saying.”
“Izzy, honey. That’s Sullivan Forester.”
Her jaw slackened and she was without words for a minute.
“By Sullivan do you mean Sully?”
Her friend nodded. “One and the same.”
“Well, crap. You’ve fixed me up with the guy who doesn’t curb his dog?”
Zoey did a double take, then twisted her finger in her ear as if trying to clear it of something so she could hear better.
“Wait a second. Me? fixing you up?”
Izzy frowned. “Well...”
“Well, I seem to recall that a certain someone heard about the magnanimous Mr. Forester’s lovely gesture and called and begged me to fix her up with him. Ring any bells?”
Heat raced up Izzy’s face. “You’re making me feel foolish, you know.”
“Iz, we’re best friends, right? So I’m gonna put it out there because best friends don’t lie to one another.”
“Okaaay...”
“You’re being foolish, which is why you feel foolish. Don’t get me wrong, I welcomed the idea of your visit—any occasion is fine by me! But it did seem a little daft to race up here for some fantasy you hoped would come to life.”
Izzy held her hands up. “I know! I’m with you. But I’d already acknowledged to myself that I was here for the wrong reasons. Now it’s not only am I here for the wrong reasons and already decided I didn’t want to force myself on this Sully guy, but now, crap, he’s the jerky guy. That’s like a double whammy.”
“So let’s try a little practice in mindfulness, okay? We’re going to go over there and I’m going to introduce you and you are going to behave like the normal woman I know and love, not the insane stalker you somehow morphed into over the past few days. And even if you think Sully’s dog did his business on the sidewalk, I feel strongly you’re wrong about that—Sully’s not that kind of guy—but also maybe you should let it go. It’s over and done with. You got a new pair of gorgeous boots, and you’re here enjoying a beer and the great outdoors and maybe we’ll go hiking and search for grizzly babies before you go back home. Deal?”
“I’d rather behave like a grizzly mama, to be honest.”
“Izzy...”
“You know you told me he was a nice guy and never said bad words.”
“He is nice.”
“He swore at me! Called me a fucking tourist. And he doesn’t curb his damned dog.”
“Blizzard is not a ‘damned dog.’ He is cute and adorable and precious. Now be a good girl and don’t make a scene.”
“Puh-lease. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. Look at him, women pawing all over him. I’d sooner have voluntary surgery than spend time with him.”
“Well, then fake it because we’re going over there in three, two, one.”
Chapter Eight
Sully tried to remind himself that he had landed in a pubescent boy’s wet dream. Women were as close to hanging on to him as they could be without actually doing so. One woman had come up and combed her fingers through his hair, then dragged her nails along his scalp till the hairs on his neck stood up. Who knew head-scratching was an erogenous stimulant? He feared he’d have to tame down his dick if this didn’t stop, pronto. He sure as hell couldn’t go back up there in front of the mob with a bulge in his pants. Then again, it would probably please this crowd.
So far, two women had already slipped him their hotel keys. Another leaned over and whispered that she had mad skills going down on men. Which begged the question, how many times did it take practicing that skill to refine such a talent?
Perhaps he was getting too old for this. Or maybe he merely thought he was. After all, what self-respecting man would complain about a woman offering herself up, no strings attached? Wasn’t that what he’d been doing for the past year? Mutually agreed-upon booty calls, no strings, no nothing but temporary fun in the moment. Yet hookups had already started to feel so empty, and now came this crazy, unexpected, and seriously overwhelming situation.
He kept eyeing his watch, getting his head around going back to performing as a way to escape the madness that had befallen this place. But then the madness got even weirder.
“Hey, Tanner, Sully.” Sully looked up to see Tanner’s girlfriend Zoey, her hand
secured around the wrist of none other than that woman from earlier in the day. The accuser. It looked like Zoey was practically dragging her toward them. As if on cue, Blizzard got up and jumped up against the mean woman, leaving damp spots from her paws (which had been planted in spilled beer) on her dress.
Tanner intervened and pulled Blizzard away before he caused more problems.
Awkward moment number 264 for the evening.
“So, uh, Sully, this is my very best friend in the whole wide world, Isabelle Strong. We call her Izzy. I told her she would just love you, by the way.” She gave an exaggerated wink. It was clear she was trying to do damage control for her friend.
He looked over to see Izzy rolling her eyes.
“Huh,” he said as he stood up and crossed his arms. He took a few tight steps around her, then scratched his chin, which was sporting a couple of days of beard growth. “Interesting that you got that so wrong, Zoey. Because I’d say it’s more like she loves to hate me.”
Izzy glared.
“I think Izzy was about to apologize to you for that little misunderstanding this afternoon. Weren’t you, Iz? Did I mention she’s my very best friend?” Zoey tugged on her friend’s arm and pushed her toward Sully so the two were only inches away from each other, both with their arms crossed, lips pursed. It was like a showdown. The tension was finally broken by the sudden and unexpected mournful wails of Blizzard, who’d jumped up in between them and proceeded to yowl like a cat in heat, loud enough that it seemed the entire bar turned to see what was going on.
Izzy was the first to burst out laughing.
“It sounds like that dog of yours is in the throes of some seriously heady sex.”
Sully stood back and fixed his gaze on her. Why did the mere mention of sex near this annoying woman trigger something in him? It couldn’t be her fiery temper. He was never one to go for a woman who went from zero to sixty in an instant. Then again, maybe there was something to that. What was the saying—hot in the head, hot in the bed? Or did he make that one up? Here he had all these gorgeous women fawning all over him tonight and he’d found them all thoroughly uninteresting. Yet a fleeting handful of minutes with this little diva friend of Zoey’s and his curiosity was already piqued.
“If that’s the most arousing sounds you’ve heard while having sex, you might not have been having it with the right men.” Sully took a swig from his beer.
Izzy uncrossed her arms.
“Well, no shit, Sherlock,” she said. “That’s precisely why I’d originally come up here to meet you.”
Sully started choking on his beer, which had apparently gone down the wrong pipe.
“I beg your pardon?”
“I’d heard about your thing and I was intrigued. It’s no secret in my world that I’ve been dating losers exclusively. Ask Zoey.” She pointed to her friend, who nodded and shrugged. “I figured you sounded like a dream come true. So thoughtful and sweet and considerate. But then I get up here and—”
Zoey held up her hand. “Izzy...”
Izzy cleared her throat, crossed her ankles, and stuck her hands in her pockets, hanging her head low. “Sorry.” She then muttered something that Sully could’ve sworn was “sorry, not sorry,” but it was fleeting and the place was so loud, it was hard to discern anything spoken sotto voce.
“Sorry for?” He couldn’t help himself; he had to stick it to her.
She clenched her teeth hard and made one of those grrrr sounds. “For possibly wrongfully flipping out on you for something that wasn’t your fault.” She bit her lip and he wanted so damned badly to bite it for her it was killing him.
The corner of his mouth turned up into a grin. Making her suffer was kind of fun.
“So, you mean I gave you all that money to replace your boots for nothing?”
Zoey lifted a brow. “He paid for them, Iz?”
Izzy blushed. “Well, technically I paid for them. In that I handed the cashier the money for them.”
Sully held up his hands. “It’s not a big deal, Zoey. Really, don’t sweat it.”
“It is a big deal,” Izzy said. “If I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt and presume your dog—and you—were innocent, then I shouldn’t allow the charade of your rightfully replacing my boots to continue. Let me make it up to you somehow.”
Hoo boy, he could think of some deserving paybacks, though they would be entirely inappropriate under the circumstances. Shame, that.
He scratched his chin again, thinking hard of some way to exact not revenge but something a little less malicious. Penance, maybe?
“So I’ve got a little job to do tomorrow... I promised Mrs. Mullaney that I’d help repair some of her fencing.”
Tanner leaned in. “Eleanor’s husband died six months after a brief illness, and she’s living on a large ranch they owned together. She has an occasional farmhand helping with the horses, but without Jed around, a lot of chores are going undone.”
“Sooo... you’re suggesting that I, a city girl, go along with you to help mend fences? On a ranch? When I’ve never stepped foot on a ranch, let alone know what a fence on a ranch looks like?”
Sully cocked his brow her way and shrugged. “Well, if the boot fits, wear it.”
Izzy looked at Zoey and shook her head. “Why do I get the feeling I’ve been played?”
Her friend patted her on the head. “It’ll be okay, Iz. Besides, you wanted to get alone time with the ring man, right? Now’s your chance.”
Izzy flipped her friend the finger as she turned on her heel.
Zoey quirked a brow. “I guess we’ll be leaving now.” She leaned over and kissed Tanner. “See you at home, babe.” With a nod at Sully, she gave him a thumbs-up, the universal sign for “good job.” Or “up yours,” depending on which culture you’re in, which could have been fitting under the circumstances. “Good luck with that one.”
He started to laugh. “Ohhh, I think this could be quite amusing. Thanks for the challenge.”
She gave him a wink. “I aim to please.”
“Nice boots, by the way,” Sully shouted at Izzy as she walked away.
Izzy turned and mimicked her friend with a pronounced thumbs-up, in the universal symbol for “okay.” Only in this case, Sully was pretty certain she meant “up yours.” And for some reason, he was good with that. He rather enjoyed having this feisty woman shoveling a mountain of shit on him—as long as that remained figurative not literal. With her, you might never know what she was capable of.
Chapter Nine
“‘Nice boots,’ he says to me. Nice freaking boots.” Izzy was practically growling as she pulled her new-old boots on, preparing for her day from hell.
“I think it was a compliment,” Zoey said, taking a sip of coffee as she stood by her grumbling friend.
“Compliment my ass,” she said. “It was a final dig meant to get me riled up.”
“Well, it seems it worked.”
“Even worse. Why is it every time I hear him saying that in my head it makes me horny? Like my whole fantasy about doing it with your boots on up against a wall is running on an endless loop in my head.”
“Wait—so you do still want to knock boots with him?”
Izzy glared at her. “Are you kidding me? You would not catch me dead with my skirt hiked up and my boots locked around his ass.”
Zoey laughed. “For being so vehemently opposed to the idea, you sure have painted quite a vivid image.”
Izzy sighed as she stood up. “Yeah, well, I’m in a dry spell, so all I’ve got is fantasies.”
Zoey swatted her on the butt. “In that case, go forth and work on making those fantasies a reality, lady.”
Izzy threw her a “yeah right” kind of look. “Uh, no. Not gonna happen. I’ve got my pride.”
“What’s that they say about pride cometh before a fall?”
“Maybe it’s pride falleth before a come?”
“On that note, good luck being a cowgirl today. I’ll be thinking of you
!”
TWENTY MINUTES LATER, Izzy had entered the Lazy L & R Ranch and was stepping onto the wraparound porch at the home of the widow Mullaney. Who she expected to be about ninety years old, but it turns out she was more like seventy and rather beautiful with striking white hair cut in a bob and bright blue eyes that twinkled when she smiled. She sported a denim button-down over a white T-shirt, a beat-up pair of jeans, and the ubiquitous boots that it seemed everyone wore around here. She looked as though she was about to go take on the chore Izzy was here to undertake.
Unfortunately Izzy had arrived early—curse her punctuality—before her nemesis, so she was going have to make small talk with the woman under rather awkward circumstances.
“Lovely to see you,” Eleanor—she insisted Izzy call her by her first name—said. “So, are you the one who’s sweet on our Sully? Can’t say that I blame you. If I were twenty years younger, I’d be sinking my claws into him myself.” She winked at her.
There was someone sweet on that man? That was news to her. Well, not so much. Women were glomming on him like white on rice at the bar last night. Clearly it was an unoriginal idea to seek out the Benevolent Mr. Forester to bask in his magnanimity. Whatever that meant. So yeah, even if she was still hot on the idea of him, she had seriously soured on the reality of the man, and it was probably a blessing in disguise. It would be awful to be head over heels for a guy who was the most sought-after man in all the country right now. Even the reporters there last night were making googly eyes at Sully.
After she’d made her dramatic exit last night, she realized she was still stuck at Harry’s since she’d ridden in with Zoey, who was not ready to leave yet because she wanted to sit with Tanner to enjoy listening to Sully play.
So Izzy stayed back and observed from a distance. She saw at least two female reporters worm their way into interviews with Sully who looked disinterested at best, uncomfortable at worst. At least he came across as humble and not a cocky jerk. After that unpleasant episode earlier in the day, she found it a struggle to stop assigning him that unkind attribute. She made a note to try to be less judgy with the guy. Easier said than done. For some reason, something about him got under her skin. And perhaps in her psyche a bit.
Boy Toy Page 4
