Loving Her Crazy (8 page)

He barked a laugh. “More accurate than you’d think. There was just my brother and me at home, but we always had friends over or the kids of the ranch hands. There were always packs of us kids roaming around and getting into trouble.”

“I bet your mom was relieved to get some alone time then,” she said.

“Yes and no. I think she enjoyed a little quiet time every now and then, but she always said she was happiest when she had everyone around her.”

“She must miss your brother.”

“Yeah. We all do. It’s weird not having him around, even after several years of him being gone. My parents, though, they had this dream of us both building our own houses on the property and living near one another, running the ranch.”

“Is that what you want?”

“I didn’t think so growing up,” he said, shaking his head at the somewhat belligerent kid he was back then. “And then when I was eighteen and graduating high school, I thought it was cool just because I was the only one of my friends who had my own place.”

“You had your own house at eighteen?”

He nodded. “I was going to the local college and still helping out on the ranch. I’d gotten good enough grades to get scholarships. So my dad said that since I was finally a man and living up to my responsibilities, it was only right I had my own place. We built a little house on the property, not too near, but near enough my mom didn’t feel like she was losing her baby. I didn’t really plan on staying there, though. I mean what eighteen-year-old kid plans to live that close to his parents his whole life?”

“True. When I was eighteen I couldn’t wait to get out of the house. Couldn’t quite make myself go too far, though. I lived in the dorms at school, but the campus was only ten miles from my parents’ place. I’ve moved three times since graduating. Each time I think I’m going to finally cut the cord and move far away.”

“And how has that worked out for you?”

“I’m currently living in a condo two blocks from their house.”

Nash snorted the milk he’d been drinking and grabbed a napkin in case any of the stuff currently burning his sinus passages decided to make an escape through his nose. She tossed a piece of bread at his head.

“Like you can talk. You’re still living in that house you and your dad built, aren’t you?”

He cleared his throat and grinned. “Just added a new bedroom and expanded the master suite and kitchen.”

“See?” she said, though her eyes twinkled with amusement. She brushed residual crumbs off her fingers, her amusement tinged with a mischievousness that did not bode well for him. “All right, cowboy, I think it’s time you paid your debt for losing. You ready to sing?”

“Ah…no?”

She laughed and stood up. “Well, too bad. Get ready, because you’re up next,” she said, nodding to the stage. “I’ll just go let Mr. Karaoke over there know what you’re singing.”

Nash took a deep breath, adjusted his hat, and marched his loser ass up to the stage. He had no idea what was in store for him, and he was pretty sure he wasn’t going to like it. But, a bet was a bet.

The smile on Iris’s face as she returned to their table only confirmed his fears. When the first notes of Katy Perry’s “Roar” started playing, his mouth dropped. “Oh, you have got to be kidding.”

Iris clapped and hooted. “Come on, baby, sing it!”

Nash squared his shoulders. Challenge accepted. He was going to sing the shit out of this song.

He pranced, he sashayed, he shook his ass, and by the time he was on the last chorus, every person in the place was on their feet roaring for him. When the last line, “because I am the champion,” came up, he stopped, pointed straight to Iris, and sang “because YOU are the champion, so you’re going to hear me roar!”

She jumped up and down, clapping and laughing so hard she had to wipe away tears. The last notes died away, and Nash laughed along with her, bowing to the crowd before hopping off the stage.

He walked toward her with his hands held out. “Did I perform to your satisfaction?”

“Oh my God,” she said, laughing so hard she wheezed. “That was freaking
awesome
. You’ve been holding out on me. That was definitely not your first time on the stage.”

He snorted. “Honey, if you’ve never seen a bunch of drunk ranch hands belting out some “Sweet Home Alabama,” you just haven’t lived yet. My crew gets together all the time for a few beers and a good sing-along.”

She laughed. “Well get back up there then. Let’s see how you do with a song a little more suited to your”—she looked him up and down—“skill set.”

He shook his head. “Ladies first.”

“Did that last performance take too much out of you? Are you shy, all of a sudden?” She patted his hand. “That’s okay, Hazel. I’ll go warm up the stage for you.”

He slowly leaned forward, letting his gaze roam over her from head to toe. When he met her eyes again, he made sure she knew just how much he liked what he saw.

“Oh, I’m not shy, Cookie. I just want to watch you.”

Chapter Eight

Iris sucked in a breath, her mouth going dry with the sucker punch of desire that hit her straight in the gut. Okay. He wanted to watch? She’d give him something to watch. And then, hopefully, he’d return the favor.

Iris headed up to the stage, giving her walk a little extra swagger in case Nash was paying attention. She glanced back over her shoulder once she reached the guy running the karaoke stuff. Oh yeah. He was paying attention.

Nash had leaned back in his chair, stretching his long legs out in front of him, his eyes glued to her like he was going blind and she was the only spot of light in the room. Her stomach did a few somersaults and threw in a pirouette, just for fun. She took a deep breath and tried to calm down. She never got nervous up onstage. With him watching, though, a fine tremor ran through her body. She didn’t just want to do a good job so she could impress him. She wanted to blow him out of the water and make him pant for more.

The perfect song choice popped into her head, and she grinned down at Nash before turning to tell Karaoke Man what to cue up.

She kept her gaze fixed on Nash as “Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy” started with its distinctive opening bar. He threw his head back and laughed, then leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, to watch her.

She gave it all she had, belting out the words and shaking her ass like she was auditioning for the Rockettes. His gaze burned into her the whole time. When she sang the titular line about riding the cowboy, he bit his lip, his gaze roaming up and down her body. Her breath caught in her throat, and she nearly missed the next line. She’d never had such a sensual look aimed in her direction before. The effect staggered her, energized her. Made the image of riding her very own cowboy even more intense.

By the time the last note died away, the crowd was cheering for her. She gave them a little bow, though she had eyes only for Nash. He stood and sauntered to the stage. As she passed him, he reached out and pulled her to him, dipping to whisper in her ear.

“You ever want to save your horse, you just let me know.”

She gasped, half laughing, and spun out of his grasp, dropping into her seat to wait breathlessly for his response to her show.

The strains of Luke Bryan’s “Country Girl, Shake it for Me” boomed from the speakers, and she laughed, cheering with the rest of the crowd. And hot damn but he could
sing
. He’d had fun with the Katy Perry song, but with this one, he was singing for real. It could have been Luke Bryan up on that stage. Even better than that, he had the moves to go with it. When he pinned her with his gaze, jerking his head in a nod while belting out the chorus, telling his country girl to shake it for him, Iris got to her feet, ready to oblige.

She shook her city-bred ass for all she was worth. She might not be a country girl, but she knew how to shake it, and she wasn’t afraid to have an audience while she did it. It didn’t take long for others to join her on the floor in front of the stage. But Nash kept his gaze fixed firmly on her. Dancing for him while he sang to her was probably one of the most erotic things she’d ever done. That voice of his permeated every cell of her body, igniting a rising inferno in her. Her body moved for him, enticing, pleading. She wanted his hands on her, wanted to feel if his pulse was racing as furiously as hers.

The song ended much too soon. Iris could have listened to him sing all night, could have danced for him all night. Well, there was a club on the other side of the building. Maybe it was time for a change of scenery.

She didn’t even have to ask him if he was game. He hopped down from the stage and hauled her against him.

“Wanna dance?” he asked, looking down at her with a heated gaze that she knew matched hers.

“I was just going to ask you the same thing. Let’s go.”

“I wanna see you
really
move, Cookie.”

He dropped some bills on their table and took her hand to lead her to the other side.

Iris had her arms up and her hips swaying before they were even on the dance floor. The cabbie had been right. While the crowd might be a tad thinner than they might have found on a weekend, there were still plenty of bodies gyrating along to the music. Iris wormed her way in between them, turning around to make sure Nash was still with her.

He snagged a table near the floor and leaned toward a waitress to yell an order in her ear before lowering himself into a chair. He stretched his long, lean legs out in front of him, crossed his ankles, and put his toothpick in his mouth. She wasn’t sure what his deal was with that thing, but damn if he didn’t look freaking sexy chewing on it, his thumbs hooked in his jeans while he watched her. Not something she thought would be sexy but… Wow.

Maybe it was something about the way his tongue swirled around it, moving it back and forth in his mouth. Or the way his eyes, shadowed by his hat, followed her every move. Being watched like that, with that heat smoldering from his gaze, sent a streak of desire through her so strong goose bumps broke out on her arms. Her breathing sped up, her pulse pounded. He wasn’t even touching her, yet he had her wanting him—bad. That was talent.

Well, if he wanted to watch her moves, she’d better give him something worthwhile to see. She moved a little closer to him, so no one would have any doubt who she was dancing for, and she let her body take over. Her hips swayed. Her hands caressed her own body, running from her waist down to her thighs and back up before she let her arms swing.

She ran her hands through her hair, letting them trail down her neck and across her collarbone. Nash sat forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees. She swiveled her hips, turning in a slow circle, but she kept her eyes locked with his for as long as she could, whipping her head back around to capture his gaze again as she turned.

A small smile played at his lips, and she answered it. This time, when her hands trailed up her sides, she let her shirt ride with them, revealing what she hoped was a tantalizing peek of the abs she killed herself to maintain. His jaw clenched, snapping the toothpick in half.
Oh yeah
. Every damn crunch had been worth it. She pulled the shirt up a tiny bit higher. He bit his bottom lip, and the muscles deep within her clenched. Holy shit, she might come right here on the dance floor.

She trailed her hand over her bare stomach, her mouth parting at the sensation. Nash threw the destroyed toothpick on the table and stood up. A slow smile spread across her lips. But before he reached her, someone grasped her hips from behind.

She spun around to see an attractive man thrusting his hips at her in time to the music. Under normal circumstances, she would have been down with it. He was relatively good-looking and certainly knew how to move. But the only man she was remotely interested in was the tall cowboy who loomed over them, wrapping a protective arm around her waist.

“She’s with me,” he said, pulling her back against him. She wrapped her arms around his, hoping the idiot who’d grabbed her would get the point that she was taken and happy about it.

However, instead of backing off like a good little boy, the other man decided to get offended. Probably courtesy of the alcohol he’d obviously been chugging since he’d arrived.

“Hey. Howdy Doody. I didn’t see you dancing with her. If you don’t want to join the party, maybe you should just go back to whatever hick town you came from and let a real man take care of things.”

Nash’s whole body tensed, his muscles going rigid. He gently put her behind him. Iris grabbed his arm.

“I don’t want any trouble,” she said. “Let’s just go.”

Nash gazed down at her, obviously torn between doing what she asked and wanting to beat the jackass in front of them to a pulp. His face softened slightly. Anger still blazed from his eyes, but he nodded. Iris sagged in relief. The last thing she wanted was some dumb fight breaking out.

Nash put his hand on her waist and started guiding her off the dance floor. The other man didn’t take kindly to that. He grabbed Nash’s shoulder and jerked. Nash didn’t budge. And he didn’t take the bait, either. He ignored the idiot and kept on going. Until the man started insulting Iris.

“What’s the matter, cowboy? Gotta get your little bitch back to the farm before the pigs miss her?”

Nash froze, his face turned to stone.

“You know, if you didn’t want to share, then maybe you should keep a tighter leash on her. Dancing like a slut, practically stripping for everyone to see. It’s obvious you aren’t man enough for her or she wouldn’t be out whoring it up on the dance floor.”

The man laughed like he’d just said the cleverest thing in the world. Nash turned back to face the guy who obviously didn’t grasp what kind of danger he was in. Nash had a good six inches on him and probably at least twenty-five more pounds of muscle. But the blowhard kept up with his taunts, though by this time, even his friends were trying to get him to back off.

Iris watched Nash, fear and surprise running through her. He’d seemed so mild-mannered up to this point. But now he appeared taller, harder, the corded muscles on his arms bulging as he flexed his fists. She’d forgotten what her cowboy did for a living. She could easily see him taking down a full-grown steer and hog-tying it, or whatever it was he did. Either way, the jerk spouting off at the mouth was a total moron for not turning around and running, with Nash bearing down on him.

Iris tried again to break it up. Yes, the guy deserved a good swift kick in the nuts. But the last thing she wanted was for Nash to get arrested for accidentally assaulting the asshole.

“Let it go,” she pleaded with him. “We don’t need the trouble. He’s not worth it.”

Nash dragged his gaze back to her, though she wasn’t sure he really saw her. His chest heaved with the force of his fury. She reached up and laid her hand on his cheek, her thumb stroking his bottom lip. His mouth parted slightly, and his eyes focused on her.

She smiled at him, pressing closer. He wrapped an arm around her waist, bringing his hand up to caress her face. He released a long, slow breath, and some of the tension drained away from her. The guy’s friends had managed to drag him off a ways and were in his face, probably trying to impress upon him just how close he’d come to getting his ass kicked.

Iris wrapped her arms around Nash’s waist and rose up on tiptoe to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “Thanks for being willing to defend my honor.”

He smiled and kissed her again. “At your service, darlin’.”

They started to sway to the strains of Lorde and her flickering yellow beast and for a moment, Iris thought they were home free.

Unfortunately, you just couldn’t talk sense into some people.

The drunken bozo came barreling back up to them, spewing his antagonistic nonsense again. Nash didn’t even look at him.

“I said, why don’t you take that prissy hat off and act like a real man.”

He leaned over and flicked a hand at Nash’s hat, knocking it askew.

Iris froze. Nash’s expression didn’t really change much. He firmly set her away and turned her so she was behind him. He pushed his hat back on his head, rolled his shoulders, and clocked the guy cold.

The man dropped to his knees, stunned for a second, before his eyes rolled back in his head, and he sagged to the floor.

Iris, along with everyone else in the club, looked at Nash with open-mouthed astonishment.

Nash glanced around and then back at Iris before shrugging. “He touched my hat.”

Iris couldn’t help it. She laughed her ass off.

The jerk’s friends hauled him away, apologizing to Nash and Iris while they did so. The crowd closed back over the space they’d made, and everyone got back to dancing.

Nash grabbed Iris and hauled her to him, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Let’s dance.”

She grinned up at him. “Yes, sir.”