Bootscootin' Blahniks (22 page)

“I think I have our plan all worked out,” she said as he took a seat across from her, his proximity priming her nerves for adversity while her hormones sizzled with unquenched desire.

Starting out with a suggestion of joint ownership couldn’t hurt her efforts, Roxy reasoned. According to her childhood therapists, including a potential adversary in her plan should make him or her feel powerful and more at ease with the idea of working together toward their goals. If only the concept also empowered Roxy instead of turning her insides into monumental landslides.

“Let’s get this right from the get-go.” Zayne looked down at her over his reading glasses, his dark eyes firing a silent but spirited message. “This is your plan, Princess, not mine.”

Roxy had expected him to play hardball and had prepared a solid defense. Unfortunately, by starting with that sexy look-over-the-glasses thing, Zayne had produced a powerful, early in the game block. He’d almost melted her survival instincts and definitely overheated the wrong drive.

Changing gears to get her mind out of his bed, Roxy rehashed the building blocks of her plan. To fix her betrayal, she had to take over Zayne’s life for the summer.

Not that unreasonable, she thought. For years, she’d tolerated living by her family’s plans. All she was asking of him was a few months. He’d just have to adjust like she did. If he wanted both The Neon Cowboy and his tomato crop to succeed during his mother’s recovery, he had no better option. How to clue him into that reality wasn’t exactly clear. Roxy would have to develop her techniques on the fly.

“Does that mean you’re going along with
my
plan then?” She asked, needing to see how much work she had yet to do.

“Like I said at brunch Sunday, I agree with you that Raeve will be much less stressful for Mom than the saloon. With her out of the hospital, she needs something to occupy her time besides me.
And
if we do this
your
way, I’m free to be stressed out with dad’s tomatoes.” He pushed his glasses back into place, swallowed a gulp of coffee then opened a menu. “Although, I’ll be honest, leaving you at The Neon Cowboy isn’t settling well. Those cowboys can be tough to handle.”

Stuck on his lack of faith in her, Roxy wasn’t ready to order when the waitress arrived.

“Chocolate pancakes for you?” Zayne asked.

Roxy couldn’t enjoy pancakes even if she wanted them. Zayne’s disillusionment of her management skills churned her stomach. “No pancakes. I’ll have an omelet, please, with cheese and bacon.”

“I’ll have the same,” Zayne said, “and I’ll take her potatoes.”

“Maybe I want the potatoes.”

“Sure you do. Like you’d ever do something not in your life plan. Just like I’m not ready to cave to
your
plan.”

So what if he wasn’t going to make this easy on her? She didn’t deserve it, but she wasn’t about to fold, even though she’d gladly forfeit the starch.

“About The Neon Cowboy. I may not be a Coyote Ugly girl, but I’m sure I’ll manage. I’m a quick learner, a hard worker and good on my feet.”

“I know you’re good on your feet. It’s your mind I’m worried about.”

“Please stop. You’re support is overwhelming me,” Roxy said, her spirit officially deflated by his last dig, but her pride heated to geyser force blows. “I certainly haven’t belittled you because you don’t know your ass from a hole in the ground about tomatoes.”

She was swinging low, but he’d forced her hand.

Apparently still not ready to give up his opposition, Zayne bristled, his jaw twitching as he came at her again. “I may not know much about growing those fuckers, but I’m honest about my limitations. I don’t take risks I have no business taking.”

“Maybe that’s your problem,” Roxy said, slamming her menu into the holder.

Their bickering hurt much more than she’d expected. With each of Zayne’s slams, her stomach lurched. As wedges of desperation sliced through her, her chest ached.

“I take chances. You’re right. I do. Because I’m afraid not to. I don’t want to look back and wonder what I
could have
done.”

She knew she should be more sympathetic. She shouldn’t have hidden his mother’s illness. She knew it when Kat had asked her to keep her secret. And boy did she know it now. Zayne’s anger was more than justified.

Maybe if she was a little less combative and tried to defuse him instead of set him off, she’d patch things up between them. She certainly couldn’t continue her current path or her heart would be pulverized, crushed by the weight of her betrayal.

“I’m sorry, Zayne. I’m sorry I hurt you.”

Roxy concentrated on dumping another packet of sweetener into her coffee even though it didn’t need one. Too disheartened to look him in the eye and once again see his disappointment, she rearranged her silverware. Focusing on the raw regret chewing her conscience was too painful to sit idle. “I want to make things right with you, but other than this plan, I don’t know how to make amends.”

Finally brave enough to look up from her place setting, she found him studying her. The pain she’d caused him was still there but with a softer focus than the hard edge he’d carried into the restaurant.

He took his gaze away from her, apparently more interested in the floor than her apology.

“Neither one of us knows what the hell we’re doing. This will never work,” he said, shoving his menu beside hers in the holder at the edge of the table.

His chest went taught under his muscle-cut t-shirt. He chewed his lower lip and started to continue their debate twice, stopping each time, evidently fighting for words.

“But I’ll be damned if I can come up with anything better. And for now, the farm and Mom have to be my priorities, leaving me no time to run the Neon Cowboy,” he finally stammered.

“So it’s settled then.” Roxy lifted her napkin out of the way as the waitress set her breakfast in front of her. “We’ll just have to help each other.”

Zayne picked at the eggs he’d normally devour. “To do that, Rox, you’ve got to tell me everything. And I mean everything. Which you obviously have trouble doing.”

“You’ll regret that open door policy real quick.” Roxy laughed as she smothered her omelet with ketchup. She’d have so many questions coming at him he’d end up running into his fields for comfort. “You might not like me when I’m fired-up.”

“That’s a chance I’ll willingly take.” For milliseconds, Zayne’s come-get-me smirk made an appearance. “For the record, I like you fired-up and sassy.”

“Was that a compliment? Surely not.” Roxy reached for his hands, pleased to feel him jolt at her touch.

His grin gave way to blushed cheeks the color of his tomatoes. For a brief flash, the air between them got hotter than a sauna in Cabo San Lucas.

Roxy pressed her palms against his then threaded their fingers into a tight-locked weave. “I won’t let you down, Zayne. You or your mom. We’re in this together.”

“I could use the help at the saloon. And I know Mom will have a heyday at Raeve. God knows Dad’s tomatoes are in big trouble if I don’t figure out something. ”

Zayne removed his hands from hers, leaving a chill in place of the warmth their connection created.

“I guess I do need you,” he said.

His words instantly replaced the heat Roxy had lost with the absence of his touch.

“I wish we could still be dance partners.” The thought was out of her mouth before she could reconsider.

Nothing like a Freudian slip to screw up a good breakfast
.

Zayne threw his napkin on the table, a good third of his breakfast still on his plate. “Me too. But we just don’t have time.”

“I’ll call Nosebaum and let him know.” If she could find his number, Roxy thought. She took her purse off the seat next to hers and rummaged through it for her cell phone and the agent’s card.

“No. I’ll call him. He’s way too anxious to get to know you better.” Zayne took out his wallet, flipping through several well-worn business cards before pulling out one with crisp, clean edges. “Here’s his card. I’ll give him a holler this afternoon.”

“Tell him I said hello.” Roxy batted her eyelashes and let loose a girlish giggle, pleased to note Zayne reacted way too fast on the draw for the card to not have been oh-so jealous of Howie.

“No can do, Princess. I need to keep you focused on our plan,” Zayne said, shocked at his willingness to claim the cockamamie plan as his too.

But as he looked at Roxy, laughing inside at her coy antics, he noticed she wasn’t focused on anything except what was going on behind his left shoulder. Turning around to see what the hell the commotion was, he wished he’d kept his back turned.

Roxy was speechless and damn near drooling.

Jack Baudlin was on his way across the restaurant, heading for the table right next to theirs.

Zayne fought his lungs for air and his attitude for adjustment.

Roxy’s reaction couldn’t be to Jack, could it? Zayne sure hoped it wasn’t a Baudlin causing Roxy’s star-struck stupor. If so, Zayne’s reflexes were going to be completely Jack’s problem to bear. If Jack was Roxy’s stimulus, Zayne would have more to adjust than his attitude. He’d have to balance his farm schedule with jail time. Plus, he’d need his mom’s cardiologist. That was one punch to the heart he couldn’t take.

The stir, however, could definitely be Jack’s breakfast date. Deena Mettles, a rising Nashville star, accompanied the Beefsteak King. Deena had that effect, from a male’s view anyway.

“Howdy, Zayne. Fancy finding you here,” Jack said.

Jack pulled out a chair for Deena. After getting her settled, he slid into the booth next to Roxy.

“I thought you’d already be knee deep in the fields,” Jack quipped.

“I could say the same for you,” Zayne said unable to keep an icy challenge from coating his words.

Getting way too cozy to Roxy for Zayne’s liking, Jack needed to be put in his place and fast. Thank God the waitress had already given him his bill. Zayne snatched it up and stood to leave.

Roxy, not picking up on Zayne’s cue it was time to go, remained seated. Her almond eyes couldn’t open much further before bulging out of their sockets.

“Are you ready, Princess?” Zayne asked, knowing his hostility right now for anything Baudlin would make a showing if he didn’t get off the stage.

Jack removed his hat and shook his head, evidently wanting an encore. “Well, aren’t we rude. Here we are with two beautiful women and haven’t bothered to make introductions.”

He ushered his hand from Deena toward Zayne. “This is Deena Mettles. Deena, please meet Zayne McDonald, the second best tomato farmer in the county.”

“And you are?” Jack turned his attention to Roxy.

Afraid Roxy couldn’t speak in her befuddled state, Zayne made his own introductions. “This is Roxy Vaughn. Roxy, meet Jack Baudlin and Deena Mettles.”

Zayne, not about to be shown up in the manner’s arena by Jack, shook Deena’s hand. “Pleased to meet you, Deena. I’m a big fan.”

Roxy, still unable to speak, extended her hand to both Jack and Deena, although releasing Jack much sooner than his breakfast companion.

A shiver of relief shimmied through Zayne’s chest. Jack wasn’t Roxy’s object of interest. She just had a celebrity hang-up. That kind of fixation, Zayne could handle without any emotional or physical scars.

“So pleased to meet you,” Roxy said, finally finding her voice. She leaned toward Deena. “I’m also a huge fan. You’re new album is fantastic. I play it all the time.”

“Why thank you. Thank you very much.”

Zayne had to hand it to Deena. For a rising starlet, she seemed genuinely appreciative of Roxy fawning over her.

Despite her Sarah Evans’ look and star power, Roxy matched Deena’s outside beauty, curve for curve, 10 for 10. Inside Roxy’s delicious hourglass hotness, Zayne doubted a woman existed with her sweet blend of sugar and sass.

As Roxy got up from the table, Deena reached for her arm. “Wow!! Great belt! May I ask where you got it? My stylist is always looking for unique pieces for my videos.”

Roxy was rendered speechless once again.

Poor girl, Zayne thought, touched by her sudden, uncharacteristic weakness. Chivalry aside, he moved to rescue her with a quick sales pitch.

“You’re in luck, Deena. Roxy designs for Raeve, her new boutique. You can find her at the local tractor —”

“Oh, please, I mean, yes,” Roxy faltered to complete a full sentence, “my boutique is in a corner of the tractor supply store, but that’s temporary. Please stop by anytime. Or here, here’s my card. Call me. I’d be glad to do a private fitting. Anything. Please call.”

Roxy had to be scoring points for persistence, Zayne figured, being as now she couldn’t quit rambling to solicit Deena’s business. Before he could escort her toward the door, safely extracting her from her less-than-best moment, Roxy turned her attention on Jack.
Uh-oh
.

“And Jack Baudlin. I’ve heard so much about you. I feel like we’re already acquaintances. Actually, I think I may have seen you at the Neon Cowboy.

“But you’d better watch yourself. You won’t be the number one tomato man for long.” Roxy put on her coat, a red satin number with brown fur trim then turned to leave.

Jack leaned back against the booth, feigning she’d sucker-punched him.

Zayne’s chest puffed with pride. Roxy had made a perfect recovery from dawdling over Deena to taking command of Jack.
That’s my princess
.

But why didn’t she speak-up on her own behalf with that same conviction? Why hadn’t she stuck-up for her own talent like she’d championed his?

“Your coat is fabulous,” Deena said and ran her hands over the slick fabric. “I’ll definitely be stopping by your boutique.”

“I’ll look forward to it.” Roxy beamed at Deena then at Zayne, seeming to have her confidence back where it deserved to be.

She looped her arm through his, leading him to the counter to pay their bill. That done she then practically dragged him out of the restaurant as if they were contestants in reality TV’s ‘The Great Race’.

Once on the curb, waiting for the light to change, she threw her arms around his neck, planting a huge and sloppy but unforgettable kiss on Zayne’s unsuspecting mouth.