Farmer Wants a Wife: Love and Friendship, Book 3 (9 page)

Another thought occurred. “Are you intending to beat me into a pulp on the rugby field?”

Julia’s husband laughed and the other guy—Caleb—joined him. “You catch on quick, country boy,” Ryan said.

“Are you playing?” Tyler asked him.

Ryan shook his head. “Caleb and I don’t play. We have more sense than Connor.”

Why not?
Tyler decided. Fitness wasn’t a problem. “Sure, I’d love to play.”

Connor nodded.

“You’d better grab your table before someone decides to ignore the reserved sign,” Julia said. “What would you like to drink, Tyler? A beer?”

“That would be great.”

Julia nodded. “Everyone else want their usual?”

Minutes later, Tyler found himself seated at a large circular table, hemmed in by Connor and Christina, and waiting for character assassination, for potshots, for concern.

“I hear you have a daughter,” Connor said.

Tyler relaxed at the non-confrontational question. “Yes, Katey is four.”

“A similar age to my son, Alex,” Ryan said. “Who’s looking after her this weekend?”

“My in-laws,” Tyler said. “Josie—that’s my mother-in-law—she’s taking her shopping and for afternoon tea. She wasn’t happy about me going on a plane without her, but the promise of afternoon tea smoothed the path.”

“Susan said your wife died a few years ago,” Maggie said. “I’m sorry. That must have been rough.”

It had also been a relief, but Tyler didn’t intend to share that particular snippet. He’d get to the dark details of his past with Susan, once they knew each other better.

The drinks arrived, interrupting his need to reply straightaway. He gripped his beer bottle, tension sliding across him to settle in his shoulders. When the waitress departed he said, “Yes, she died way too young. My in-laws were great and they continue to support me. I’m lucky.”

“Do they know you’ve come up here to meet a woman?” Caleb asked.

“Yes.”

“Do they know her identity?” Maggie asked, shooting to the heart of the line of questioning.

“No. I told them I met her on the internet.”

“They were okay with that?” Ryan asked. “My parents would have asked a hundred questions, given me a hundred lectures.”

Tyler smiled. “Oh, they asked nosy questions but I told them I didn’t intend to answer any until I knew if things were going to work out.”

“Do you do this sort of thing often?” Connor demanded.

Tyler met his gaze without flinching. “No, I haven’t dated anyone since my wife died.” He’d gone out to town socials and danced with women, but after his wife trampled his feelings, he’d needed time to heal plus he’d had responsibility for Katey. “My concern was for my daughter, not my love life.”

“Why Susan?” Maggie asked.

Tyler scowled. “Why not? She’s beautiful.”

The music changed to a vocal track and the lights dimmed—a signal of some sort because club patrons straightened to attention and the buzz of conversation died. Up on the stage, a spotlight appeared and Julia walked into it, stunning and attention grabbing in her blue gown.

“Good evening,” Julia said, a mike amplifying her voice. “Welcome to
Maxwell’s
, and thank you for coming out so early on a Friday night.”

Cheers rang out.

“We want Fantasy Girl,” a male voice shouted from the rear.

“Fantasy Girl!” others picked up the chant.

Julia smiled and gestured for silence. “We have a chorus of dancers first out, and Susan is one of the dancers. She’ll be doing a couple of dances, so stick around and enjoy the fun!” She gave a theatrical flourish with her right hand, the music shifted to sultry and flirty and the curtains opened with a swish. The spotlight on Julia faded and whoever was in charge of lighting started off a sequence of illumination that picked out a row of long legs. Fishnet stockings. Sexy.

Expectation pulsed like a live thing, bouncing from the men and women eying the stage. Tyler leaned forward, eager to see this side of Susan. The women wore identical dark wigs and slim black masks. Their lips were painted a sultry red, and they wore sexy maid costumes with panache.

He watched the sequence, mesmerized by the athleticism and the sensual nature of the tease. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but Susan was right to take issue with people calling her a stripper. This dance highlighted sensuality with the slow reveal of long limbs and bare shoulders. Sexy and breathtaking, the dance raced to an end almost too quickly. The music crashed to a climax. The women froze in position. Silence fell. Each of the women straightened, blew a cheeky kiss at the audience, then the curtains closed, breaking the audience’s spell. Applause and cheers rang out along with a few rude suggestions about maids.

“Is the routine new?” Caleb asked. “I don’t remember seeing it before.”

“We’ve been doing it for about a week,” Christina said.

Tyler lifted his beer and took a long sip to temper the heat roaring through his veins. The dance had been…intense. Definitely sexy. But which one was Susan? He had no idea.

The spotlight bloomed again and the crowd quieted. “Since you’re such a great audience, we’re going to change things up tonight,” Julia said. “In ten minutes, we’ll have a fan dance for you.”

“What about Fantasy Girl?” a man shouted from the rear.

A flurry of ribald comments shot at Julia like bullets from a paint gun, each more colorful than the last. Grinning, she raised her hand for silence. “You know this club is about whimsy and imagination. All our dancers fuel fantasy. Yes, Susan is dancing tonight, but I’m not about to point her out. That’s what we have brains for—to fantasize!”

The crowd stomped their feet and pumped their fists in the air. Tyler scanned nearby faces. The men lusted after the dancers and the women aspired to be the dancers.

“Does Julia dance too?” he asked.

Ryan gave a curt nod. “All the dancers wear masks, so most people never know their identities, but I know my wife’s body.”

“Maggie and I dance on occasion,” Christina said. “It’s a real rush. Susan is a natural though. She’s good—almost as talented as Julia.” She placed her hand over his and leaned closer. “You don’t need to feel jealous. Susan hasn’t dated anyone for ages. You’re the first man she’s brought to meet us. She’s not interested in anyone else.”

“Thanks,” Tyler murmured, her words settling the tension roiling in his gut.

The chatter at their table became general, ranging from the rugby game tomorrow to where they were going for dinner after Susan’s next dance to the management of
Maxwell’s
. Tyler listened with half an ear and nursed his beer. No way did he intend to drink past his quota. If things proceeded the way he wanted, he’d manage to talk Susan into returning to his hotel. He wanted to explore her—both mind and body—with an intensity he’d never experienced with another woman.

The lights shifted, softened, and the chatter died. This time Julia didn’t introduce the act, but remained behind the scenes.

The curtains glided open and Ryan let out a soft groan. “In a minute, mate, you’ll know exactly how I feel every time my wife dances.”

Two masked dancers—both redheads—stood in the middle of circles of rose light. Large pink feathers flickered enticingly in front of their bodies, revealing and concealing, never ceasing their graceful arcs. The dancers’ mirrored each other.

“Susan is on the right,” Christina whispered.

Immediately Tyler’s gaze settled on her, his emotions swinging wildly from conservative to radical. He couldn’t take his eyes off her yet part of him wanted to jump on stage and whisk her away. His eyes only.

As one, the dancers reached behind their backs. Two flamingo pink bra tops flew into the audience. Eager hands grasped the tops and cheers rang out from the victorious recipients.

On stage, long legs flashed and the next minute two pairs of neon pink panties flew in their direction. Ryan caught one pair and grinned while the other pair landed right in front of Tyler.

“You’d better grab those or Caleb will beat you to them,” Connor said with a knowing smirk.

Tyler reached for the pink panties, briefly wondered what to do with his prize. Finally, he stuffed them in his jacket pocket while he kept his gaze glued to Susan. Pressure grew in his chest—apprehension. He waited for the fans to go in the wrong direction, waited for the flash of a butt or bare breasts. Susan’s naked body.

“Don’t worry,” Christina whispered. “They’ve done this dance heaps of times. No one will get a peek.”

Tyler hoped she was right. He found himself mesmerized by the flirty movements, the arch of bodies and the sexy smiles beneath the black masks. The music crashed to a finale and the spotlights flicked out, leaving a black stage and silence. Then enthusiastic applause broke out and Tyler slumped back in his chair.

Both men and women gave an enthusiastic response to the dance. There were a few wolf whistles, more lewd comments.

“I bet those two women are horny after all that teasin’,” a man at a nearby table said in a loud voice.

Tyler tensed.

“I think I might head back to the dressing room and take on both of them. My big cock is more than capable of the job.”

Tyler half stood, but Ryan reached out to grasp his arm. “Don’t bother wasting your energy.”

Christina wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, guys who mouth off like that usually have dicks the size of walnuts.”

Tyler half spluttered at the insult and sank onto his chair. Ryan was right. Creating a scene wouldn’t solve a thing. “How do you cope with other men lusting after your wife?”

“She’s not interested in other men, and she comes home to me.” Ryan hesitated and seemed to consider his words carefully. “I do a lot of traveling with my job, so the trust needs to go both ways. Besides, Julia loves working at the club and enjoys dancing. No one recognizes the dancers when they’re dressed in their normal clothes. The costumes and masks do the job of concealing identities.”

Tyler gave a swift nod of acknowledgement and picked up his drink to swallow the last mouthful. Even though he hadn’t known Susan long, their exchange of emails had covered a broad gamut. She loved to dance, and trying to change that—take dancing away from her—simply because he couldn’t handle audience comments would shoot this budding relationship to the no-way-in-hell pile.

He needed to work past his possessiveness. Besides, he didn’t have the right to quash talent. It would be like someone telling him he could never paint again, could never pick up a pencil to sketch a portrait of his daughter.

“They were incredible,” he said. “
Maxwell’s
is a slick operation.”

“Thank you,” a soft voice said. “Susan is taking care of a last minute panic with the change. She won’t be long and then we can go.” Julia turned to Christina. “You have our number if you need us.”

“Here’s Susan now,” Christina said, making shooing motions with her hand. “We’ve got this. We can’t do much damage in one night. Go. Go.”

Susan stopped beside Tyler. “What did you think?”

“You were great. I’m going to frame that pair of pink panties.” He grinned at her, his protectiveness easing now that she stood at his side. He had more important things to worry about, such as his brother’s unpredictable antics. “How did you manage to land them in the right place?”

She grinned. “Julia and I have a lot of practice. Plus we have a private competition, an incentive. A poor throw means I have to buy a round of margaritas the next time we have a girl’s night out.”

Tyler grinned down at her and unable to resist, bent his head to snatch a quick kiss.

Maggie poked him in the ribs. “That’s enough of that. The pair of you can cuddle on the dance floor. Besides”—she lowered her voice—“someone will recognize Susan and wonder what’s going on with her kissing a man who isn’t Nolan.”

Fuck, she was right. Tyler drew back sharply. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Susan murmured.

“Would you and Susan like to ride with us?” Julia asked.

“That would be great,” Tyler said. “I didn’t bother with a rental car since I figured I wouldn’t get much use out of it this weekend. Where are we having dinner?”

“At the Grant Hotel.”

“That’s where I’m staying,” he said.

“How convenient,” Julia said, wriggling her eyebrows at Susan.

A hostess showed them to a private table at the rear of the restaurant. Tyler trailed Susan, noting both the stunning night panorama out the floor-to-ceiling glass windows and the way several diners recognized her. Maggie had been right to remind him of observers in public places. Public shenanigans might create an unfavorable backlash.

His mind circled back to his brother. Damn, he wished he knew why Nolan had suddenly stepped out of his good-boy good-son persona. It wasn’t his normal behavior.

“She’s a charming and sexy woman,” Nolan had told Hailee during an onscreen interview. Although they didn’t talk much these days, Tyler knew his brother. Something else ran beneath his glib public reasons.

Undercurrents.

Tyler pushed aside his unease to focus on the woman who’d brought him to Auckland. “What are your favorite foods? We haven’t covered food likes and dislikes yet.”