Tyler

by C. H. Admirand

  Leaning close to the mirror, she applied her favorite shade of lip color and pressed her lips together. Stepping back, she studied her handiwork and smiled. “Not bad.” She laughed. “Better than the first outfit he saw me in.”

  Twirling to the left and then the right, Emily was satisfied with the body-hugging fit of her black denim skirt and deep green tank top. With a dab of lavender oil on her pulse points, she was ready to see if she could tempt the handsome cowboy who’d managed to work his way under her skin with his gentle teasing. Ready to do a little distracting of her own, she grinned. “It wouldn’t be right if I’m the only one suffering.”

  He may think she was bubble-headed and scatterbrained—most people did at first—but she was ready to let him see the focused side of her personality. When she put her mind to it, she could do whatever she wanted. She had a gut feeling Tyler was different than the men she usually dated. There was just something about him. She couldn’t say exactly why, but Emily looked forward to discovering what made Tyler tick as much as the need to talk him into her bed.

  Stepping into her favorite pair of boots, she headed for the stairs. She was ready to attract and distract.

  The steady beat of a familiar country tune throbbed in her veins. She looked to the left and then the right. Her gaze snagged and got stuck on the long, tall Texan standing on stage slipping out of his worn denim shirt. Every ounce of spit dried up in her mouth. She tried to lick her lips, but her tongue was paralyzed and her brain had completely shut down.

  Thickly muscled pectorals smoothed, then bunched as he bent down and braced his hands on the back of a chair someone had placed on the stage. He leaned forward and his biceps bulged as he pressed more of his weight on the back of the chair. Oh Lordy!

  Emily stared, transfixed by the sight. Even though she’d met him earlier, there was something different about him when he was center stage. His go-to-hell-and-enjoy-the-trip attitude commanded attention. When he straightened up and hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his leather chaps, her heart beat double time.

  Even though she’d seen Clay do the same routine a hundred times, the impact of Tyler strutting across the stage in chaps and a tiny pair of black spandex briefs had her gasping for air and reaching out to steady herself. With one hand to her heart and the other braced against the wall, she wasn’t prepared when his gaze to swung toward hers.

  Before she could react, he unbuckled his chaps and let them fall to the stage.

  Air… she needed air! Good Lord, he was gorgeous. He had the body of a Greek god and the arrogance to match.

  The crowd erupted in cheers, whistles, and more than one moan of ecstasy, but the man didn’t seem to notice. He waited to the count of ten, spun on his boot heel, and strode to the back of the stage like a gunfighter preparing to take his stance at the end of Main Street before a shoot out.

  Drawn to him, she made her way through the crowd toward the stage. Emily stared. She couldn’t look away; the back of him was as gorgeous as the front. Finally the cheers died down and as if on cue, the man slowly walked to the front of the stage where women waited, waving fists filled with bills. From where she stood Emily could tell they weren’t the one-dollar kind. Two women waved fistfuls of twenties, and one long-legged brunette held out a handful of fifties!

  Wishing she weren’t a part owner in the club so she could push her way to the front of the crowd and monopolize the handsome hunk, she jolted when Jolene said, “Isn’t he magnificent?”

  Emily agreed. “There’s something really special about him. You feel it too. Don’t you?”

  Jolene nodded and put her arm around Emily. “It might take a little while for him to settle in.”

  “You don’t think he’ll walk, do you?” If he left she might never see him again, and she had a deep-seated need to touch off that powder keg of passion she sensed lurked just below his I-just-don’t-give-a-damn façade.

  “I don’t know,” Jolene answered, “but the ladies love him.”

  Emily narrowed her eyes, watching the way the women lined up in front of the stage caressed the span of Tyler’s shoulders and the sculpted muscles of his amazing pecs. She ground out, “Yeah, but it’s against our rules to shove bills down the front of his briefs.”

  She knew Jolene must have seen it too when her cousin said, “Hell,” and stalked over toward the stage.

  Emily had seen the blonde with dark roots stuffing her hands, along with a few bills, into the front of the cowboy’s clingy black briefs. When Tyler stiffened and jerked back, Emily got a good look at his face.

  He looked mad enough to spit nails, that or brand something with his red-hot gaze. She blinked. Gwen jumped into the fray and had the blonde by the arm and was leading her toward the door.

  The silent message rippled through the crowd as the women frantically waving bills paused to watch the woman who dared to go one step too far in her adoration of the handsome hunk on stage.

  Why couldn’t the women be content with just having the opportunity to look at someone as beautiful as Tyler? He was the stuff dreams were made of… well, Emily’s dreams anyway.

  Although the man on stage continued to move down the line, allowing the semi-circle of women surrounding the stage to trail the tips of their fingers on his arm, his shoulders, his chest, and for a brave few, a quick squeeze of his amazingly taut buttocks, he never once showed any emotion. Tyler had absolutely no expression on his face, but that didn’t seem to bother any one of his adoring public.

  Then he turned to face her. Their gazes met and the bottom simply dropped out of her stomach. His eyes, hot and dark, just barely visible beneath the brim of his black Stetson, seared her right through to her soul.

  He lifted his chin a notch as if daring her to comment on the fact that he stood before a group of wild women in a pair of spandex underwear. Body-hugging spandex that lovingly caressed each and every muscle of his sculpted backside. Lord above, he had abs to die for too, with roped muscles leading beneath the elastic band riding low on his hips. He sparked a series of fantasies Emily had had in mind for some time, just waiting for the right man to share them with. Her fingers itched to caress, her hands to grab a hold of him and not let go until she’d gone through her imaginative repertoire.

  “He cannot be real,” Emily whispered as the image of the handsome hunk spread eagle on her bed, eyes hot with passion, wrists securely tied to her bedposts roared through her.

  “He’s all too real.” Jolene sighed. “And mad as hell.”

  The image faded with the music. Tyler tipped his hat to the crowd and swept his chaps from the floor. Flipping them over his shoulder, he strode off stage as if he hadn’t a care in the world.

  Emily had seen that expression on her cousin’s face before. “We’ll face him together, Jolene. I don’t think we’ll have to worry about him taking out his anger on us.”

  “How do you know?” Jolene asked walking toward the door at the side of the stage.

  Emily shrugged. “I’ve got a feeling about him. He might yell some though.”

  The stage door burst open a few moments later. Emily had forgotten just how tall he was; he towered over Jolene, and her cousin had a good three inches in height over Emily.

  Tyler looked like a storm cloud about to explode with thunder and lightning. “You never said anything about women shoving their hands down my shorts and taking a layer of skin off my dick with their claws!”

  Emily hadn’t expected anyone to be that bold or that Tyler would be hurt. She felt his pain.

  “I had no idea anyone would try anything like that.” Jolene kept her voice even, her tone soothing.

  “One of your customers broke your rules,” Tyler ground out.

  “I’m sorry, but it’s not my fault—” Jolene began.

  The anger and tension coiling within the big man had Jolene backing up into Emily, yet he only pushed his hat to the back of his head, and his expression changed from visibly angry to one of cold arrogance. “It’s your club…
your rules.”

  Emily looked at her cousin and was catapulted back in time to the day the Stalter brothers cornered little eight-year-old Jolene on the playground. She hugged her cousin and marched forward, drilling the tip of her pointer finger into Tyler’s rock-hard chest. “It’s our club and the rules usually work for our dancers and the club.”

  Tyler’s gaze swung from Jolene to Emily and her heart kicked into overdrive. The anger swirling in the depths of his velvet brown eyes changed to an untamed emotion, something dark, dangerous, and compelling.

  Emily couldn’t look away. He blinked, and for a split second, she saw his face contort in anguish. He blinked a second time and it was gone, leaving the heady mix of anger and passion that called to her on an elemental level as deeply as the anguish she’d seen there.

  Tyler Garahan was a man of many levels, and Emily planned to discover each and every one.

  “Your shift’s not over.” Jolene’s voice was soft but firm. “Are you going back on your word?”

  Tyler’s anger seemed to dissipate. He shook his head. “Once a Garahan gives his word, you can count on him to keep it.”

  “You looked like you were getting ready to walk.”

  He closed his eyes and sighed. “I’m sorry, Jolene. I’m not used to being on stage standing in front of God and every one of those screaming women like that.” His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he struggled with what he was feeling. “I didn’t count on getting mauled like that. My temper got the better of me.”

  “So I can count on you to stick?”

  Tyler looked from Jolene to Emily and then back. “Yes, ma’am. I’ve never gone back on my word before. I’m sorry for giving you reason to doubt me.”

  Jolene nodded. “I need to be sure I can count on you, Tyler.”

  Emily knew why they needed to keep The Lucky Star afloat and making money; what she didn’t know yet was why Tyler needed the money when he so clearly didn’t want to be up on the stage at The Lucky Star stripping for tips.

  ***

  Damn. Even before he started, fate had stacked the deck against him. Grandpa’s ranch would be lost to them if he didn’t get the promised pay. “You can count on me.”

  He swayed on his feet and realized that he hadn’t stopped to eat before his shift. Although he wasn’t a great dancer, the moves Jennifer and Natalie had taught him, combined with the fact that he’d been up working since four o’clock this morning, hit him like a ton of bricks. He needed to sit down, eat, and sleep, and not necessarily in that order. Pride kept him going, but he was smart enough to know he’d have to work hard to make up for nearly quitting on Jolene. “I need some air, but I’ll be back in a few minutes to help clean up.”

  Jolene nodded. “Take a break. You earned it.”

  He moved through the crowd.

  “Hey, handsome, where are you going?”

  Tyler sidestepped the leggy blonde reaching for him and bumped into a pretty little thing with long dark hair and a mouth just made for sin. “Excuse me, ma’am.” Tyler touched the brim of his cowboy hat.

  “Do you always talk like that?” the brunette purred.

  Tired enough to be confused, he asked, “Like what, ma’am?”

  The woman giggled and slipped her arm through his. “Why don’t we go someplace real quiet?”

  He was the first to admit he enjoyed women, but one at a time. His attention had been snagged by a chocolate-covered redhead earlier. Now that the anxiety of performing his first strip/dance number was abating, all he really wanted was a cold beer, a hot meal, and a soft bed—preferably empty—because as soon as his head hit the pillow, he’d be down for the count.

  Looking down at the dark-haired woman and her slick, red, I-just-want-to-suck-you-dry lips, he shook his head. “Maybe some other time.” Tipping his hat, he kept walking.

  “Don’t get lost, Tyler!” He looked over his shoulder and there stood Emily, Jolene, Jennifer, and Natalie. His sigh was long and deep. “I swear I’m just going outside for a breath of air that doesn’t smell like perfume.”

  Damn if Jolene and Emily didn’t look at him like he was crazy. “Doesn’t the mix of half a dozen different scents make your eyes water?” Hell, it did his. When they just stared at him as if he were from another planet he shook his head. “Ten minutes, and I’ll be back.”

  Emily moved toward him. “You look like you could use a hot meal.”

  Relieved, he nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll be right back.”

  She reached out to grasp his hand. “I’ll rustle up some bacon and eggs for you.” She squeezed his hand before letting it go. “Come on upstairs—”

  “You can cook just as easily in the downstairs kitchen, Em.”

  Tyler looked from his boss to the lovely Emily and shrugged. “I’d appreciate it no matter where you cook it, ma’am.”

  Emily frowned at Jolene. “Fine. Come on back to the downstairs kitchen; it’s behind the bar.”

  Tyler touched his fingers to the brim of his Stetson and made his way through the crowd.

  He felt someone slipping their hand into his back pocket, leaving what felt like a credit card or a room key. He was too proud to accept the first, and he’d be damned if he’d accept the second. The promise of sexual release just wasn’t what he was after. Now that his anger left and he was able to think straight, all he wanted was to breathe air that wasn’t laden with too many sweet-smelling perfumes so he could clear his head and chow down on the promised meal. He reached into his back pocket and handed the room key back to the sultry looking brunette. When she pouted, he shrugged and kept walking.

  Once he made it outside, he breathed in deeply. Cool night air filled his lungs. He marveled that Texas air could smell so good. He’d been all the way to Tennessee once, and the air just didn’t smell the same there. No offense to folks from Tennessee, but he’d take a lungful of good old Texas air anytime.

  Staring up at the stars, he ignored the steady stream of women moving past him, trying to get him to talk to them. His mind wandered until it settled on the chocolate-covered redhead who’d gotten under his skin. He’d been poleaxed by Emily Langley, and he intended to explore his fascination with the woman, her excellent curves, and her sweet-looking mouth. Ten minutes later, he made his way to the downstairs kitchen and found Jolene sipping from a steaming mug while Emily had her back to him frying bacon. “Ain’t nothing that smells better to a man with an empty stomach than well-cured pig frying.”

  Jolene chuckled and smiled. “Have a seat, cowboy.”

  He sighed. “Name’s Tyler.”

  Jolene grinned. “I know it, but you all dressed up like a cowboy is going to help bring business into The Lucky Star. It’ll be good for the both of us.”

  Emily had yet to turn around, and he had a deep-seated urge to see if her face was as pretty as he remembered. “Everything OK over there?”

  She turned around and his heart just flipped upside down and sideways. She had a smear of bacon grease on her tank top right between her amazing breasts. He tried hard, real hard, not to notice. But when her gaze dipped down to where he’d been staring, he knew he’d failed. “You… um…”

  “Darnit.” She sighed. “I get so involved cooking, I don’t always notice when I get some of it on me.”

  Jolene laughed, drawing his attention back to his boss. “I’ve got some stain lifter that’ll take that right out, Em.”

  Emily turned back to the frying pan and lifted the rest of the bacon out to drain on the paper towel–lined plate next to the burner. “How many eggs and how do you want them cooked?”

  If Tyler wasn’t so tired, he’d offer to help; even so, he felt he owed it to her to explain. “Thanks, Emily. I’m so tired, I don’t think I could stand up long enough to fry up some eggs.”

  She grinned and his heart flipped back into place. “Fried it is. How many?”

  He wasn’t starving, so he only asked for three.

  While he ate, the women kept him company. He listened t
o their quiet conversation and was surprised at how comfortable he felt. He hadn’t expected to be. When Jolene pushed her chair back, he got up and held her chair for her. “See you tomorrow… er, later tonight, boss.”

  Jolene smiled at him—a genuine smile and not the phony one she’d given him during his interview. “I’m counting on it.” She patted Emily on the shoulder. “See you in the morning.”

  Now that they were alone, Tyler didn’t know what he wanted to say first. He’d been struck by her beauty first thing… the chocolate had just added to his fascination with her. He lifted his mug to his lips and sipped. “Thanks for the hot meal.”

  She smiled at him. “My pleasure. You looked like you were going to keel over any minute if I didn’t feed you.”

  Lord, her smile tied his tongue up in a knot. He loosened it enough to say, “Might have.”

  When he got up and started to rinse his plate in the sink, she joined him. “Here,” she said, placing her hand on his. “Let me.”

  They both stopped and looked into one another’s eyes. Tyler couldn’t say he minded that she was quiet around him. Maybe he got to her the way she got to him and her tongue tangled up a bit. The thought of tangling tongues with Emily Langley had his libido warming up. He’d been fed and now had energy to spare.

  “Emily, I—”

  “Need to put something on that scratch.”

  The pained look in her eyes had him wondering what caused it. Her next words answered his unasked question. “I’m so sorry I didn’t think about it before I fed you.” She glanced down reminding him of the reason he’d nearly thrown away his chance to save the Circle G.

  “It, uh, doesn’t bother me all that much.”

  Her face flushed a lovely shade of pink. Mesmerized, he reached out and touched the tip of his finger to the delicate line of her cheek, stroking it down to the edge of her jaw. “You’re distracting, Miss Emily Langley.”

  She cleared her throat and managed, “Likewise, Mr. Garahan.” She blinked and seemed to get her thoughts back in order. “Still, you don’t want an infection, and you seriously don’t know where that woman’s nails have been.”