Emily recognized the signal and instinctively readied herself for battle. “You’re not in this alone anymore, Shannon.”
“We’ve got your back,” Jolene said. “Where’s Ronnie?”
“Sorry I’m late,” their friend called out joining them.
“Have a seat,” Shannon said, “and some coffee.”
“Thanks.” Ronnie took a long drink, set her cup on the table, and splayed her hands on either side of it. “Do you think we’re being targeted because we’re women business owners?”
Shannon tilted her head to one side. “Maybe.”
“Have either of you received an anonymous phone call asking for money?” Jolene asked.
The women looked at one another before answering. “One,” Shannon answered.
Ronnie shrugged. “I had two calls demanding I close my shop because of the stock in my back room, and two calls demanding money.”
“Was it the same voice each time?”
Ronnie thought about it and shook her head. “The ones demanding money were. The ones telling me to close up my shop weren’t.”
“It was the same person demanding I close down The Lucky Star both times. I’m not sure about the calls demanding money,” Jolene said. “I was pretty steamed at the time, so I wasn’t exactly paying attention to who was behind the phone calls.”
“What’s wrong with women owning and running their own businesses?” Ronnie asked.
Shannon got up to pace. “There are other women running stores in town.”
Jolene agreed. “There’s Lettie and Pam Dawson and Minnie Harrison.”
Emily smiled. “Those ladies practically run things around here. They’ve been carrying on their family businesses for years.”
Ronnie shrugged. “I’ve only been in town a couple of months and haven’t had a chance to meet everyone.”
Shannon stopped pacing and turned to face the group of women and explained, “Lettie runs the food side of the general store, and Pam the hardware side. Minnie runs the feed store.”
“This town, and the ranchers who live on the outskirts, couldn’t survive without those stores.”
Emily paused with her cup halfway to her lips. “I think I know why we’re being targeted.”
Jolene leaned close. “Well?”
“Have any of you heard about the First Annual Take Pride in Pleasure Day?”
“Sure,” Ronnie answered as Shannon sat back down. “Mavis Beeton stopped by a couple of weeks ago to ask if I’d be competing in the rodeo. I’m not sure how she found out I used to be a barrel rider, but what does that have to do with anything?”
“Maybe nothing,” Jolene said.
Emily shook her head. “Maybe everything.” Locking gazes first with Jolene, then Shannon, and finally Ronnie, she said, “Our businesses are the only ones in Pleasure that have anything to do with pleasure.”
“And your point would be?” Shannon asked.
“Did you also happen to hear from Mavis that the Preservation Society and Women’s Club are petitioning the town council to have the name changed, or that they’re creating a new website to advertise the new name and town celebration?” Emily asked.
“What else would they call a group of women who get together if not the Women’s Club?” Ronnie wanted to know.
Emily rolled her eyes. “No silly, the town’s name.”
“What’s wrong with it?”
Jolene smiled. “Not a thing. Those Donovan women knew what they were doing when they opened the town’s first business. They just called it Donovan’s. Cowboys and drifters started stopping in for a good meal and smooth whiskey.”
“And then they added the upstairs rooms and brought in a couple of working women,” Emily added.
“The town boomed after that,” Jolene continued. “People started settling down, drawn to the charming women who started it all with one excellent saloon and bawdy house.”
“So you think there’s a connection between the move to get the town council to change Pleasure to something else?” Shannon wanted to know.
Ronnie shrugged.
“But why extort money from us?” Shannon wanted to know.
“I’m guessing they have to pay for the new website somehow,” Jolene said, “and I heard attendance at the Preservation Society meetings has been down lately, so their coffers are low.”
“But if they change the town’s name, they have to change the name of their celebration too.” Ronnie was starting to tap her fingers on the table.
Shannon nodded. “Take Pride in Emerson Day sounds a lot more plain vanilla than Take Pride in Pleasure.”
Jolene looked up, her eyes blazing with anger. “Why those two-bit, penny-ante thieves!”
Shannon and Ronnie shared a look but didn’t comment.
Emily did. “And now you’re thinking what I’m thinking, cuz.”
Jolene all but growled. “Those crooks want to clean up town and get rid of The Lucky Star because we have strippers.” She looked at Shannon. “They want to get rid of the Mysts of Time because they don’t understand the concept of your shop or anything that has to do with New Age.” Sighing, she let her gaze meet Ronnie’s last. “They want to get rid of Guilty Pleasures because of your back room and your collection of adult toys.”
When she was finished, Emily spoke up. “But we aren’t going to give in! We won’t let some pain in the butt from Colorado take over our town and change its damn name.”
Jolene nodded and added, “Or let them run us out of town. Jeez, it’s just like a page out of the past when the Dooley sisters tried to close down Donovan’s.”
“I think it’s time we started spreading the word around about what’s been happening to our businesses, starting with Lettie, Pam, and Minnie.”
“Don’t forget Mavis,” Jolene interrupted. “She can spread rumors like a wildfire.”
Everyone smiled at the image of the older woman charging forward, stopping at each business and spreading the word. Emily grinned at Jolene, “Why don’t I just give Mavis a call?”
Jolene asked Shannon for a pen and paper. When she handed it to her, Jolene said, “OK. Let me just write this down. Em, you’re calling Mavis. Shannon you call Lettie and Pam, and Ronnie’s calling Minnie.”
Shannon smiled. “It’s time to kick butt and take names, ladies.”
The group stood up. Jolene put out her hand first. Emily laid hers on top of it, then looked at Shannon and Ronnie who quickly did the same. “We’re staying and we’re not letting anybody change our town’s name!”
Vows said, strength in numbers, the women left to put their plan into action.
Chapter 12
Tyler’s battered ribs ached as he shifted beneath the sink to get a better grip on the damned pipe. Plumbing was a bitch. Repairing the damage Dylan had done to a perfectly good, albeit leaky, pipe was going to be next to impossible.
Just like the Langley women. He smiled as he worked, thinking he’d be back at The Lucky Star tonight and could sample another taste of his redheaded filly. His smile widened. She really hated me calling her that. But she had clung to him when he’d finally dragged himself from her bed. She had a firm and agile body with a wickedly sensual mind, but it was the whole package that sucked him in. He liked her as a person too.
Hell, just admit it, son. He shook his head, glad that he was hearing his grandpa in his mind again. It comforted him.
He was so far gone over her, he hoped she wouldn’t step back from him when she found out he was broke, his family ranch was failing, and that he’d rather stay home at night than party in town.
He shifted again, this time getting just the angle he needed in the tiny space to apply the right amount of pressure and loosen the connection. He caught the elbow pipe before it smacked him in the head. Time to pay attention, son.
The near miss with the pipe reminded him of last night and how close he’d come to knocking Emily off her feet. Of course he hadn’t known it was Emily at the time, but the fact still remained, he’d al
most punched her out. The knowledge vibrated through him, irritating him more than the damned mangled pipe.
“Fucked up,” he mumbled. “Why don’t I just bend over and you can fu—”
“Watch what you say in front of Lori.”
Jesse’s demand was punctuated with a swift kick to the bottom of Tyler’s boot. He absorbed the impact and the knowledge that something more than friendship was on his baby brother’s mind where Lori was concerned. He’d have to give some serious thought to just what that might mean to the Circle G. They’d had women stay out at the ranch before, not many and not that often, but they’d each had a girlfriend they’d thought was the one and wanted to share their love of their ranch with. So far the Garahan men were batting zero for two and Jesse was up at bat.
“If I didn’t have my head stuck underneath this ancient excuse for modern plumbing,” Tyler bit out, “I might have noticed I wasn’t alone.”
He grabbed hold of the top edge of the cabinet and shimmied his way back out, working hard to contain his groan of pain as his ribs bumped against the cabinet trim. Lifting his forearm, he wiped the sweat off his forehead and reached for the glass of water he’d left on the kitchen table.
“Ty,” his brother growled, and that’s when Tyler noticed the quiet woman stacking the breakfast dishes on the other side of the kitchen.
Man, he’d thought she’d left when he’d started swearing. Not long on conversation or useless words, he mumbled an apology.
Lori’s eyes widened; it must be the gritty sound of his voice, a combination of a hell of a night and lack of sleep. He hadn’t minded corralling the group of teenagers who had snuck into the club as much as the fact that they’d tried to steal from Jolene and Emily. He’d called Timmy’s uncle and knew the kids had all made it home… sore feet and all. If his grandfather were still alive, he’d have told the boys that the walk was good for their souls.
He had, however, definitely minded leaving Emily alone in her bed, the soft satin-smooth feel of her arms and legs wrapped around him, and the way she’d pressed her lips to his heart. But he had a ranch that needed running and a repair to the damned pipe his brother had mangled.
“Tyler?” The soft sound of his name being called dragged him back to the moment and the job he needed to finish.
“Hey, sorry, Lori.” This time she must have heard him.
She nodded and flushed the prettiest shade of pink. “That’s all right.”
Lifting the glass to his lips, he gulped down the rest of the cool well water and rested the glass against his hot forehead. Texas weather wasn’t for everyone, but he liked the heat, was raised on it, and accepted it as part of ranching on the outskirts of Pleasure, the only place he’d ever lived, and the ranch he’d bleed for.
Bleeding made him think of the Langley women, and the trouble they’d had since he started working there. They’d been lucky so far. He had a feeling it was just kids but had heard from Mrs. Beeton the other day that some of the local do-gooders had been by the club to harass Jolene and Emily for donations, but that the Langley women hadn’t been willing to buckle under the pressure to change up their club.
Hell, they’re pretty much stuck on having their way about how the club was run, down to what he and the other guys had to wear on stage. He thought it was tough working the ranch with his brothers, but it didn’t compare to how it felt to strip down to the damned spandex briefs the redheads insisted he wear.
“Damn.”
“What now?” His brother paused in the doorway about to follow behind the woman Tyler noticed Jesse couldn’t seem to stay away from.
“Just thinking out loud.” Why couldn’t he just wear black underwear? Cotton was more comfortable.
His brother grunted and headed outside following right behind Lori. Tyler couldn’t keep from muttering, “Like a love-sick calf.”
Tyler’d been in love just long enough to recognize the signs of a man who had it bad. If Jesse didn’t watch out, he’d be married before he realized he’d been hog-tied to that blue-eyed little filly.
Stretching to relieve the ache in his lower back; he reached for the new elbow pipe he’d been carrying around in his pickup for a week. “Dylan should have waited,” he mumbled settling beneath the sink once more.
Working to fit the pipe into place without using too much force, so that the threads would seat properly, he wondered why the hell Emily and Jolene had come downstairs armed for bear. They could have waited upstairs until he and Jake had taken care of things. “Good thing for them Jake and I were paying attention, or they could’ve ended up with more bumps and bruises.”
Shifting so he could slip out from beneath the sink again, he wondered when he’d stop replaying the near miss over and over in his head, when he could be replaying making love with Emily.
He chuckled thinking of the gorgeous redhead ready to clock him with the hockey stick, dressed in that skimpy excuse for a nightgown. His heart kicked into overdrive remembering the feel of getting tangled up with Emily after she’d tried to brain him. The beats evened out and another part of his anatomy started to get hard thinking of her compact, curvy body flush against him when he’d pinned her between himself and her bedroom door.
“Hot as hell today,” he mumbled to no one in particular. Good thing because he didn’t feel like talking to anyone anyway.
Sorting through his tools, he was careful to put them back the way he’d found them. That way you’ll have ’em when you need ’em. It felt good to work with his hands at something different for a change, not that he didn’t like ranching; he loved it. Lived for it. Breathed it. But fixing something broken added a layer of satisfaction on top of the life he loved.
Swiping his arm across his forehead again, he wondered if the temperature would break one hundred degrees before noon.
“Hotter than a randy bull with a pen full—”
The sound of feminine laughter, sharp and irritating, had his hackles rising.
“Shit.” There was only one female who laughed like that… his ex. Self-preservation in the form of the need to disappear filled him. He snatched up the toolbox, snapped the lid shut, and sprinted for the basement, all the while praying, “Lord, please don’t let her come inside.” He paused halfway down the stairs and held his breath, listening.
“I thought Lori said Tyler was in the kitchen. Where did he go, Jesse?”
Tyler jolted at the sound of Linda Lee’s voice. He didn’t have the time and couldn’t dig deep enough for the patience to face his one-time girlfriend. Come on, bro, he silently prayed, don’t tell her anything.
“Well, now,” he finally heard his brother say, “he might have been here earlier, but he’s not here now.”
I owe you one, Jesse.
A few moments later, Tyler heard footsteps, a high-heeled staccato, clipping away from where he stood crouched on the cellar stairs, sweating bullets. The back door slammed and he grinned heading the rest of the way downstairs. “I will pay you back, little brother.”
Toolbox stowed, he sprinted up the staircase wondering if he’d run into his little brother again before he had to head on into town tonight.
A few hours later, exhausted but still standing, Tyler slammed his truck door closed, ran a hand through his hair, and jammed his Stetson back on his head.
Sore in places that reminded him of last night’s fight, he made his way over to The Lucky Star, hoping his boss and her curvaceous cousin were feeling better than he was.
The comforting beat of Texas Swing greeted him as he stepped inside and made his way down the hallway. George Strait’s music always seemed to unlock the tension deep inside of him like a cold beer on a hot day. Feeling better than he had in awhile, he smiled walking toward the black lacquered bar and the pretty redhead behind it.
***
Emily’s heart turned over in her breast and began to beat faster. Tyler’s smile was as welcome as the bright sunshine after weeks of rain. It eased the knot of tension between her shoulder blade
s and had her heart fluttering in her breast. Lord, he was so gorgeous. That tall, muscled length of him was all hers. Hell’s bells, he even admitted he loved her mind! If that didn’t beat all.
Her tired brain sent signals to all of those places he’d spent time getting to know last night, and every damned one of them was paying attention. She tingled from head to toe and everywhere in between.
“Hey there, sweet thing.”
His deep voice sent a riot of shivers up and down her spine. He looked good, tasted good, and sounded good. How’s a body supposed to concentrate? “Hey yourself, handsome.”
“Jolene giving you busywork?”
She smiled at him. “Keeping the books is just one part of the job. We all pitch in with chores wherever we need to. The bar needed polishing before we open up tonight.”
Lord, don’t let this man be like her other loser boyfriends. Her desire for him wasn’t the only thing tangled up this time. She’d only just realized how deeply the man moved her when she’d lifted her gaze from her chore and saw him walking down the hallway. Her heart was on the line this time.
Her relationships always started out great: that giddy rush when your gazes first connect and you know, you just know, that the touch of his fingertips slipping across the curve of your cheek to slide beneath your ear would leave you in a puddle—her favorite move in the prelude to a kiss that would solidify her commitment… and had done so with her last three loser boyfriends. But Tyler Garahan was different. As solid as they come, he’d stood up for her and her cousin, and she had a feeling the protective streak in the man went all the way through to the bone. She had to admit he challenged her on all levels and that had never happened before. But more importantly, when push came to shove, the man understood and respected the word no.
He hadn’t gotten angry with her, and he hadn’t tried to change her mind. He was content to wait until she was ready to move to the next step in their relationship. She’d spent the night in his arms and had been reluctant to let him go this morning. The long, tall, dark-haired Texan smiling at her had her toes curling, her juices flowing, and her mind screaming: Take me now… we can finish polishing the bar with your amazing backside!
Tyler Page 14
