"Mmmm, mmm," Alex said under his breath, then quickly averted his eyes as she turned. "Do you smell brisket in the air?"
She shook her head. As he led her to his dusty Suburban, Alex took in her sensible two-inch heels and leather bag. "We've got to make a stop on the way," he said. "Hope you don't mind. I've got to drop something off at my uncle's ranch."
Ranch ? Sydney grimaced. "No problem." But she couldn't say that she looked forward to being surrounded by cows. They were very large and probably smelly. Did they bite? She'd just stay in the comfort of the Suburban while he did whatever it was that he had to do.
Alex opened the door for herat least these Texas guys knew their mannersand she managed to scramble without much grace into the truck. The heat inside hit her with the force of a blow. Sydney gasped and wilted. So this is what a lobster feels like, when it's lowered into the pot .
The Suburban wasn't much for creature comforts. It was an older model and the springs in the bench seat were shot. It tilted drunkenly, lower on the driver's side. She told herself to hang on to the door whenever they took a left, or she'd be sitting in Kim-ball's lap. Not that the idea was altogether unappealing, but the embarrassment factor would be high.
Alex swung in and started the ignition and AC, thank God. It spewed a stream of suffocating, musty heat at her and she felt sweat overrun her deodorant like a barbarian tribe. Any remaining makeup she may have had on her face dissolved and oozed down her cheeks. Her hair hung limply, gel and spray defeated.
Great. She was sitting next to the most gorgeous man she'd ever beheld, and she looked and smelled like something beyond fermentation. She cast a sidelong glance at him. Exactly three tiny beads of sweat dotted his lip. Other than that, Kimball showed no signs of being affected by the heat.
They drove through town and turned down several dusty roads until they reached a big aluminum gate set over what Alex called a cattle grill. Alex swung out of the truck, opened the gate, got back in, drove through. Then he got out and closed it behind them. As they approached a wooden farmhouse, Sydney saw an older woman in a colorfully embroidered Mexican dress, squatting with a paintbrush in front of a huge, dark green egg. What on earth laid an egg that big? A pterodactyl?
The egg perched in a wrought iron stand apparently made to hold it. As they got closer, Sydney could see that the woman had painted an intricate design on the egg and was now layering gold pigment onto it.
Alex blew a kiss to the woman, who waved, and they continued along the gravel drive past the house. Sydney saw a couple of horses, but no cattle. They rounded a stand of mesquite, and her jaw dropped.
There in a pen of wooden boards and wire was a group of strange, giant birds. The adults were five to six feet tall and had to weigh as much as she did.
Alex glanced at her expression and laughed. "Emu," he said.
"E-what?"
"Emu. They're ratites, a cousin of the ostrich and the kiwi. People are starting to ranch them as an alternative to beef."
"Ratites? What's that, a rat of great height? I thought rats were rodents and birds were birds and kiwi were fruits." Sydney stared at the odd-looking birds, which looked right back at her. One of them yawned. Another bit at its long, bony leg. Yet another ignored them to walk along the fence, emu plop dropping behind it. Eeeuw .
Two young males tried to bite at each other over a barrier, grunting and hissing and flapping their wings. In a pen beyond them, another emu couple seemed to be getting romantic. As Alex rolled down the window, she could hear a sort of drumming sound from one, punctuated by grunts from the other.
Alex gestured toward them. "A hot date," he said. "She's showing off her neck feathers and her voice. He's complimenting her."
Sydney raised a brow. "Before you know it, they'll be planning a wedding."
Alex shot her an assessing look, but said nothing.
"Can they fly?" Sydney asked.
"Nope. Their wings are underdeveloped for their size. Look at the huge breastbone on themit's often referred to as a keel."
"Why? Do they float?"
Alex frowned. "Good question. I don't know. I
don't think they're big on swimming, though. Look at the feet: They've got three toes. The ostrich only has two."
She inspected the bird closest to them, and it did indeed have three gnarled and funky toes. Julia would say they were badly in need of a pedicure.
Syd marveled again over the sheer size of the bird. "You're telling me that people really eat these things? As in emu steak?"
"You bet. There's emu steak, sausage and even jerky. You can get the meat ground, tooemu burger is tasty."
Syd wrinkled her nose. "Is it like chicken?"
"It's really closer to beef, but lower in cholesterol and fat."
Sydney looked at the bird herd and chuckled. "So they're becoming the other red meat?"
"We sure hope so."
"You don't see a whole lot of shrink-wrapped emu in the supermarket," said Sydney.
He nodded. "Which is precisely the problem. People like my Uncle Ted know it's a great product, but we're still trying to figure out how to get the word spread and increase demand." He passed a hand over his jaw. "Keeps me busy when I'm here."
He reached behind his seat to get a jar of something thick, brownish red and muddy-looking. "Here. Wanna taste?"
Sydney regarded the jar warily. "What is it?"
"My fabulous, chipotle-based, Hot 'n' Sweet Emu Sauce."
Sydney tilted it and watched the red brown sludge crawl toward the neck of the jar. "I think I'll pass. What's a chipotle?"
"You don't know what a chipotle is? A chipotle is a pepper. I thought you East Coasties up there were all cultured."
"We don't grow things like chipotle or emu in Jersey." Not men like you, either , she added silently. "You've heard the 'radioactive garbage' jokes. We specialize more in third arms."
He cocked his head. "Oh, so there's a sense of humor in there somewhere."
"Buried somewhere in the morass of officious, bossy older sibling, yes, there's a funny bone."
"I didn't say any of that, Jersey."
"You didn't have to. It was written all over your face. Look, I'm just worried, okay? What would your reaction be if your sister announced she was marrying someone she'd only known a month?"
Alex thought about it. "I don't have a sister. But my brother was engaged for two years before his marriage, and that didn't help hold it together."
She bit her lip.
He would have been glad to do it for her. The thought surprised him vaguely, and he shifted on the lopsided old seat. It dipped down on his side, which caused her to slide toward him. She grasped the door handle and pulled herself back in the other direction.
"I'm a little overprotective when it comes to Julia," she admitted.
"Roman's actually quite a catch. Especially since he got paroled"
The look of horror on her face was priceless. "and had that hunch-reduction surgery."
Realization dawned on her and she looked as if she might hit him. "Do you make fun of everyone?"
"Let me think about that for a minute," he said, actively enjoying the wrinkle in her forehead and her lowered ginger brows. "Yes. Any further questions?"
She blew out a breath and shook her head.
"Excellent. Now twist the lid off that jar and taste my sauce. It's your transportation and tourism fee."
Sydney tilted the jar again suspiciously.
"C'mon. There's nothing poisonous in it. And I need another guinea pig before I give it to Ted."
With visible reluctance, she tried to twist the lid off, but didn't have enough strength in those soft white hands of hers. "Oh, too bad. It's stuck."
He took it from her and removed the lid easily before handing it back to her. "Mmmm, yummy."
She sniffed it cautiously and wrinkled her nose. Then she dipped her index finger in the stuff and popped it into her mouth.
His gaze rested on the plump curve of her nud
e bottom lip, so much softer than the stubborn chin below. She sucked the finger, lips surrounding it, and he felt a distinct twinge in a region that shouldn't be twingeing. He forced himself to look away.
"Not bad," she said, sounding surprised. "In fact I like it a lot. It's sweet, hot, tangy and spicy. It's got both kiss and kick to it."
Just the way I like my women . Alex's eyes returned to her mouth again, and he half wished she'd left a drop of sauce there so he'd have an excuse to slick it away with his thumb. Hell, what was wrong with him?
"I do believe that's a vote of confidence. Thank you, Jersey." He took the jar from her and replaced the lid. "This one's for Ted to try, if the poor sonuvabitch can get hold of some emu meat."
"What do you mean?" Sydney gestured at the motley flock in front of them.
Alex chuckled. "He's not allowed to hurt them. Aunt Susie said she'd take a hike if he became a bird murderer."
Sydney's confusion was evident. "Didn't your aunt and uncle talk before he decided to become an emu rancher?"
Alex shook his head. "I don't think so. Ted's a real impulsive guy. He did it all in a single afternoon had the idea, bought a battalion of emu, and showed up to take delivery still reading the how-to manual."
"I wonder if your Uncle Ted is related to my sister Julia," she said.
Alex chuckled and opened the driver's side door. "C'mon and meet him. He'll be in the barn over there."
The barn in question was on the other side of the emu pen. Sydney gulped. "Do those things bite?"
"No. They're actually very docile. Just don't crowd them up against the fence or they may flatten you, trying to get by. And don't hug one or you may get kicked."
"Believe me, it never crossed my mind." Syd scrambled out of the truck and picked her way gingerly over to him. Her heels might be "sensible" for an office, but they didn't do much for her on a ranch.
Alex opened the gate and she swallowed, then followed. The birds stared at them curiously but didn't gallop toward them or hiss. Sydney stuck close to Alex anyway.
"Uncle Ted grabs 'em by the wings and drives 'em like a wheelbarrow," Alex said, shaking his head. "I haven't tried that, yet."
Uncle Ted sounded like a character. She looked forward to meeting him more than this Roman guy, whose persona was confusing her more and more. Who was he? She'd now combined Sicilian alley cat, German officer, and a sweaty torso in a tool belt. Oh, and a freakin' three-carat rock. Nothing about him added up. Schizophrenic, she decided, and possibly psychotic since he'd developed a "keeper" instinct for Julia in only a month. Sydney sighed and passed a damp palm over the gruesome mess that now constituted her hair. She concentrated on keeping her footing in the dusty, rocky dirt. It smelled ripe out here, among the musky birds and their rather pungent by-products.
Step, feet together. Step, feet together . Sydney watched as the little initial "A" on each of her sling-backs lost its shine and went from gold to dusty brown, then disappeared. She took another step and focused on two enormous, nasty, three-toed feet that were most certainly not human. And they were waaay too close. Uh-oh .
Sydney looked up from the feet to muscular, alien legswow, this critter gave a whole new meaning to the term "drumstick"to a breast-span Pamela Anderson would envy, and then up an insanely elongated, rubbery neck to a pair of inquisitive liquid eyes. The emu cocked its head and peered at her over a beak that reminded her of the nose of her calculus professor in college.
Her tonsils seemed to lob the breath back down her throat, which volleyed it forward again in the form of a screech. Sydney lurched backward into something squishy just as Alex reached her and took her arm. The bird scanned her and appeared to give her about a B, just like the calculus professor. Then it stalked away.
Heart palpitating, Sydney closed her mouth before she swallowed a fly or something. "What," she then asked Alex with trepidation, "did I just step in?"
His lips twitched. In a masterfully grave tone he said, "I don't think you want to know."
Uncle Ted told her that emu poop was great fertilizer, just like any other kind of poop, and that it had probably moisturized her toes more effectively than any salon treatment.
Sydney listened in disbelief while she sat on a bucketa bucket!and Alex ran water from a hose over her feet. As his nephew squirted dish soap onto her toes, Uncle Ted also informed her that the bird she'd met was named Snoopy, and he had a natural curiosity for anything foreign that entered his pen. He'd encountered Alex before, but she'd obviously smelled different.
Syd jerked in reflex when she felt Alex's hands on her skin, moving in circles to cleanse her foot. Oh, my. Oooooh . She closed her eyes.
She forgot to wonder exactly how Big Bird could smell anything when he didn't have a nose. Alex's hands were big and gentle andoh, Godvery sensual at poop removal. Wow, if he'd continue like this it would almost be worth taking a flying naked leap into a compost pile.
She opened her eyes to find Alex borderline-smirking at her. She pulled her foot out of his grasp.
"But honey, we haven't finished the rinse cycle yet." He calmly took it back and ran the hose over it before starting on the other one.
He completed the operation and dried her feet off with Uncle Ted's hankie. Then he turned to her shoes, which also got the dish soap treatment, but with an old kitchen scrub brush.
In the meantime, Uncle Ted set about trying the Hot 'n' Sweet Emu Sauce. "Damn, that's good stuff!"
"Think we can push that off on some unsuspecting tourists?"
"Oh, you bet. Even on suspecting ones. Mmmm, mmmrn, that is a winner, A."
"Good. Now we need to come up with some packaging. And I still need that marketing plan from you."
"Yeah, yeah. Haven't gotten around to that yet."
Alex sighed. "Right. How about next week?"
"No problem."
"That's what you said last week."
Uncle Ted flapped a hand at him. Sydney wiggled her toes. "You know," she said, "I might be able to help you. I have a good friend in New York who's a graphic designer. She could probably come up with a label for you."
Alex straightened, frowned and started to say something, but Ted brightened. "Yeah? I was think-ing of a cartoon emu, a rear view. And she's slapping her tushie. The caption could read, 'Put it right here!' "
Sydney blinked. "Uh, sure. That's a great idea. I'm sure Donna could sketch that right up for you."
Alex shook his head firmly. "Thanks, but we wouldn't want to trouble you or your big city friend. I'm sure we can handle it from here."
Sydney shrugged. "Suit yourself."
"Come on, Jersey," he said. "Let's get going. I'm sure you're all fired up to meet your future brother-in-law."
Sydney grimaced and wiped sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. She swept it off her forehead and into her hair. This matted her bangs into wet clumps that she could feel sticking to her forehead. Yuck.
"Uh," she stalled, "I'm kind of a mess. I should probably shower. I can meet him another time." She plucked her damp blouse away from the skin at her chest and made a woeful attempt to fan herself. Use-less. Damn this heat .
Alex waved a hand in dismissal. "Oh, Roman's seen hot women before, Sydney." He shot her a look too bland to be innocent.
Syd narrowed her eyes at him. There was no need for him to mock her. "Really, I'd rather"
"You don't need to primp for your sister's fiance, do you? Especially since you have such a high opinion of him and all." Alex's teeth flashed white.
She clenched her own. "No, of course I don't need to primp." She cast about for another out. "But my shoes"
Again he rode right over her protests. "Aw, we hosed 'em off. They're good as new. And Roman won't care a bit. The Sonntags' place is just a little ole farm in the country, so don't you fret." He patted her arm.
She jerked it away and took a step to the side, opening her mouth again.
"Besides," he added before she got out one word, "you're not gonna make me drive all th
e way back to town first when I've got a delivery to make out there. Are you?"
She met his gaze resentfully. He had her, and she knew it. She'd invited herself along and the only gracious thing to do now was hang in there for the ride. Not that Sydney specialized in grace, especially, but she didn't want to be actively rude. She sighed and scrambled back into the truck.
Alex was going to have some fun introducing the Difficult Sister to Roman Sonntag. It wasn't only that she was a little worse for wear this afternoon, thanks to him; Roman wouldn't be what she was expecting. As they went up the long, tree-lined drive to the Sonntag Winery, he saw her face change as she took in the vineyards and picturesque limestone walls, the large amorphous pool with a planted rock waterfall, and the gorgeous landscaping.
What had she pictured? That Rome lived in an ancient mobile home, a converted barn or perhaps out of his Chevy?
He bit back a smirk as Sydney whipped out a compact and took a horrified gaze at her face. She blotted some powder over that cute freckled nose and smeared some ginger brown lip gloss on her mouth. She dragged a comb through her hair.
He didn't have the heart to tell her about the damp patches under her arms or the fact that her skirt had molded like plastic wrap to her shapely rear end. As for the shoes despite his earlier words, no amount of scrubbing would completely eliminate that smell.
He just stared ahead impassively and helped her down from the truck when they rolled to a stop. She cracked her neck, squared her shoulders and strode forward like a colonelspoiling the effect a bit by clutching her purse like a security blanket.
Alex had to lengthen his stride to overtake her and open the door, since she was a lady. In Jersey they don't open doors for ladies ? Not that she looked like a ladyshe looked more like something a dog had gnawed on.
She swept into the winery like a queen anyway, though one in shoes that squished salaciously. They made disgusting, almost sexual slurps with each step she took, and she was obviously mortified by this. He repressed a grin. Ooh, Roman, you're in for a real treat .
First Date - [Bridesmaid's Chronicles 01] Page 4
