Trouble With a Cowboy (3 page)

"Okay.
Thanks. It's kind of cold out here."

"It
is November. You never know about the weather this time of year."

He
pulled out his cell to call a cab. It sucked being somewhere without
transportation, but right now he didn't have any himself after the disaster his
own situation had become. Tucker Marshall was always in control, always had his
finger on the pulse of the cattle business and always had the number one bull
on the PBR circuit. Sitting in Littleton, Oklahoma trying to find a big rig
driver to get his prize bull to the National Finals Rodeo didn't sit well with
him at all.

Several
minutes later, the cab pulled up. He held open the door for her while she slid
inside and he took the seat next to her.

"The
Little Motel, please," she said, giving the driver directions.

"Sounds
like a charming place."

"Yeah,
if you like dive motels, hard beds and thin curtains, it's just dandy, but it's
all I could afford for tonight. I needed to give my mare a break from the
road."

"Been
driving for awhile?"

Her
lips lifted in a small smile. "You could say so. Tennessee to Nevada is a
long haul."

"Where
are you headed to in Nevada?" As the trust in her eyes disappeared, he
kicked himself mentally for the change in her openness with him. "Never
mind. It's nothing more than small talk."

The
cab stopped in front of the motel and he asked the man to wait while he walked
her to the door.

"Thanks
for the lift, Tucker."

"You're
welcome. I guess I'll see you around."

"Probably
not. I'm leaving in the morning."

"True.
It was nice spending a few hours with you anyway. I haven't had a chance to
spend some downtime with a woman, just dancing and shooting pool, in a long time."

The
little smile on her lips made him want to kiss her. "Maybe you should try
to relax more."

A
small chuckle left his mouth as he shook his head. "I suppose." Her
lips pressed into a thin line as she dropped her gaze to the ground at their
feet. "Can I kiss you goodnight?"

Her
eyes met his and she smiled again—a full one this time—one that lit up her
entire face. "Sure."

One
small step brought him up in front of her. He let his fingers slip into the
hair near her ear and slide behind her head to pull her closer. The feel of her
lips called to him. The need to taste her overwhelmed his senses. Lust swept
down his spine, ratcheting up his desire to bursting proportions and there
wasn't a damned thing he could do about it now except be satisfied with the
taste of her mouth.

Her
eyes drifted closed as her lips parted when he brought their mouths within a
hairsbreadth apart. A growl rumbled low in his throat as their mouths touched. All
thought disappeared, except the softness of her lips and the feel of her
pressed against him.

Tongues
explored. Need spiraled. Fingers touched.

God, I need her—need this.

A
honk behind them brought him out of the fog of desire. "I guess my driver
is getting impatient."

"Yeah,"
she whispered.

"Goodnight."

"Night."

Chapter Two

"You
have got to be fucking kidding me!" Jacie yelled, kicking the flat tire on
her rig. "I so do not need this!" Grumbling under her breath while
she walked, she continued around the other side noticing the rest. In all
total, four of her tires were cut in a circular pattern from one lug nut to
another, piercing the rubber wall, making them impossible to repair. "Some
asshole cut my damned tires!"

She
tipped her head back on her shoulders and fought the urge to throw something.
Tempers ran hot in her family and this situation would be no different.

I'm already in a pissy-ass mood. I
am totally sexually frustrated after the kiss from Tucker and a sleepless night
dreaming about all the things I'd like to do to his body. Now I'm stuck in the
middle of Oklahoma with barely enough cash to get me to Vegas for gas and four
blown tires that costs over three-hundred bucks apiece.

"Son
of a bitch, I don't need this."

A
huge, wet raindrop hit her face.

"Great.
It's going to fucking rain now."

The
sky opened up and rain started pelting her face as she headed for the diner
next door. The place had a few patrons, but she didn't pay any attention to
them making her way toward the booth in the corner for some privacy.

I need to call Mom and Dad. God, I
hate asking them for anything.

The
waitress wandered over to take her order of coffee. Once she had the cup in
front of her, she retrieved her cell phone to dial her parent's number.

"Jacie
Margaret Hawkins. What kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into this time,
young lady?" her mother asked, sarcasm clear in her voice.

The
thought of asking her parents for money soured her stomach. She hated it. Her
parents thought she would never amount to anything. They didn't like her
driving big rigs and spending all her time dressed more like a man than the
young woman she was raised to be.

"Hi,
Mom."

"Spill
it."

A
heavy sigh rushed from her lips. "I need money."

"Why?"

"Someone
cut the tires on my rig."

"Where
are you?"

"Littleton,
Oklahoma."

"What
are you doing in the middle of Oklahoma?"

"I
had to stop to let Brandy rest. She couldn't stay in the trailer anymore
without a break."

"And?"

"I
got a room here. When I came outside this morning to get back on the road
headed for Vegas, I found four of my tires cut."

Jacie
could hear her father's voice in the background.

"She's
stuck in Oklahoma."

"Well
you know what? She needs to figure this out."

"What
are you saying, father?" She heard her mother say.

"She
needs money, right?"

"Yes."

"We
aren't giving her any."

"What?"
Jacie said, apprehension and disbelief making her skin prick with goose bumps.
"You can't be serious. Mom? Come on. I'm stuck here. I don't have twelve
hundred dollars to get tires for my rig."

Her
father must have grabbed the phone because the next thing she heard was his
voice. "I'm sorry honey, but you are twenty-eight years old. It's time you
grow up and figure things out. Don't bother calling your brothers or sisters
because I will call them myself in a few minutes."

"Dad,
please? You really aren't going to stick me in the middle of bum-fuck Oklahoma
are you?"

"Yes,
honey, we are. You are a resourceful young lady. I'm sure you'll figure out
something."

The
phone went dead.

"They
hung up on me," she whispered, holding the phone away from her face, staring
at it. Her parents were turning their backs on her. Anger and disbelief zipped
through her. She snapped the phone shut with a decisive click and pressed it to
her forehead. "I do
not
believe
this."
There is nothing in this
town. How in the hell am I going to get twelve hundred bucks to get tires?
Plus, they probably have to order the damned things. They might have one or
two, but they sure as hell won't have four. That means at least a few more days
in the motel, meals and feed for Brandy.

"Maybe
I can work something out with the mechanic," she said, dropping some money
on the table and heading for the door.

Moments
later, she stood at the big bay doors at the only eighteen-wheeler truck repair
shop in Littleton, Oklahoma.

"Hello?
Anyone here?" she yelled, waiting a moment for a response.

"Back
here," someone shouted.

Following
the sound of the voice, she made her way to the rear of the shop. A pair of
dirty boots, and worn jeans with the cuffs frayed stuck out from under the
frame of a car.

"I
need some tires."

Legs
became hips, hips became a chest and the chest became a knowing smirk of the
last person she really wanted to deal with first thing this morning.
Oh fuck! Kyle?

"I
bet you do."

"Son
of a bitch," she growled.

"You
know what, honey, I can't help you. You see, I just don't have your size."

Her
vision narrowed as she stepped closer, slamming her hands on her hips in
irritation. "You don't even know what size I need."

"Sure
I do. And I bet you need four, right?"

"You
fucking ass—" He wasn’t even trying to hide what he’d done.

Another
voice interrupted her words as she heard someone call from the front of the
shop. "Can I get some help up here? I need to ask a question."

"Why
don't you hang tight there, sweetheart. I'm sure we can work out some kind of
arrangement." Kyle gave her a wink before he walked away.

Anger
so strong it made her shake, rushed down her body and had her balling her hands
into fists. She would bet her last dollar, she knew what kind of arrangement he
had in mind. It would be a cold day in Hell, before she let the likes of him
touch her.

She
headed to the front, intent on figuring some way out of this predicament. As
she neared the counter, she saw the man who must have called out. Nice
Wranglers lay taut over his backside and across his lean hips. Black cowboy
boots graced feet set wide apart in his apparently irritated stance. His
fingers tapped a staccato on the counter while he waited. A western
long-sleeved shirt pulled tight over his back muscles and a stark, black
Stetson sat perched on his head.

"Well,
well, if it isn't Mister Know-It-All from the bar. What can I do for you,
sir
?" Kyle growled.

"Kyle.
Nice to see you again," the man replied.

 
Jacie tipped her head to get a glimpse of his
face. The voice sounded awfully familiar. "Tucker?"

"Jacie?"
A startled gaze raked her from the top of her baseball cap, over her loose
fitting shirt and dirty jeans to the boots on her feet. "What are you
doing here? Why are you dressed like that?"

A
quick glance at her clothing revealed nothing out of the ordinary to her. "This
is how I always dress when I'm working."

"Working?
You work here? I thought you said you weren't from Littleton?"

"I'm
not. I needed something from the shop, but I didn't realize
Kyle
was the proprietor. I guess I'll
have to go elsewhere for what I need."

"Good
luck with that one, Jacie. My shop is the only one in town."

The
smirky, half smile on his lips pissed her off even more.

"I'll
rot in hell in this podunk hole in the wall before I even listen to a
proposition from you. I'm not willing to barter for the tires I need, asswipe,"
she snarled at Kyle. Tucker stood with his arms crossed over his tempting chest
and a small smile lifting the corners of his lips. "Nice to see you again,
Tucker, but I've got something I need to take care of." Without waiting
for a reply, she spun on her heels and headed across the parking lot toward her
truck, grumbling and cussing with each step. "Goddamn, son of a bitch,
fucking asshole. The devil will be dancing on the polar icecaps before I do
anything to—"

"Jacie!
Jacie, wait up!"

She'd
just reached her rig when Tucker caught up with her. "What?"

"This
yours?" he asked, eyeing her truck.

"Yeah,"
she replied, bristling with indignation even before he said much.

"You
drive eighteen-wheelers?"

The
incredible look on his face pissed her off, but it really shouldn't have. She'd
seen it way too often from people. "Yes I do. You got a problem with
it?" The smile she'd seen earlier returned two-fold and she wasn't sure
she liked the look in his eyes. "Why?"

"No,
no problem. It suits you."

"Great.
I think." Stomping to the cab, she popped open the door, preparing to
climb inside when she realized he'd continued to follow her. "What exactly
do you want, Tucker?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder.

"Have
lunch with me."

She
tilted her head to the side. "Excuse me?"

"I
want you to have lunch with me."

"Why
exactly?"

"I
have a proposition for you."

"I've
already been propositioned once this morning. I'm really not in the mood to go
for round two," she replied as she brought her foot up and started to
climb into the cab. Why exactly she felt the need to be inside, she wasn't
sure, but it seemed like the thing to do.

His
hand wrapped around her ankle. "Come on, Jacie. I'm talking about a real,
honest to God business deal."

"What
kind of deal?"

"I'll
help you get the tires you need for your truck, but we have to discuss the rest
over lunch."

Her
mom had always taught her to hold her temper, but the more she had to deal with
egoistical, male-chauvinistic men, the harder it got. True, she'd had to put up
with all her siblings, all seven of them, but dealing with the handsome devil
who stood at her feet tested every ounce of self-control she possessed.

"Please?"

Well, crap. What the hell do I say
so that?
"Fine," she grumbled, retreating down the
couple of steps on the side of the cab. "Where?"

"The
diner? There isn't much to choose from around here."

"Don't
I know it."

Her
boots hit the pavement as one of his eyebrows arched in an
I'm-the-man-and-I'm-tolerating-your-independent-woman-attitude look.

Wonderful. Last night I thought he
might have been different. I guess I should have known. I haven't met a man yet
who didn't cop an attitude once they find out what I do for a living.
With
a need to do something with her hands, she brushed invisible dirt from the
front of her jeans before she looked in his direction, and then headed off
toward the diner without a backward glance.
I
will not let him get to me. I will not let him get to me.
A heavy sigh
rushed from between her lips.
Too late.

His
much longer legs allowed him to catch her without any difficulty.

"Slow
down. Are you goin' to a fire or somethin'?"

They
reached the diner and he pulled open the glass door for her as she said,
"I just want to get this over with, okay?"

"Is
my company so obnoxious? You didn't seem to mind last night."

With
a frown and a narrowing of her eyes, she replied, "Let's get one thing
straight, last night was a whole different scenario. Today is the real me. Get
used to it or leave me alone."

"You
need to get the burr out from under your saddle or get laid, I'm not sure
which, but your snarky attitude isn't going to put me off, Jacie, so cut the
crap."

She
frowned even further at his high-handed manner, but didn't say anything more. It
wasn't very often a man felt comfortable enough with her to say something to
put her in her place. Tucker did and it made her take stock of the man he was
turning out to be. Someone she could respect. The thought bothered her.

One
corner booth sat empty in the rear of the restaurant. Privacy would be good.
She didn't need the whole damned town hearing their conversation, especially
since she wasn't sure what his proposition would entail.
If he thinks sex has anything to do with this, he's sadly mistaken.

"You had every intention of
sleeping with him last night," her mind whispered.

"That's
different," she grumbled.

"What's
different?" he questioned once they'd taken a seat across from each other.

"Nothing."
With the menu open on the table, she ignored the man across from her, or tried
to anyway, until she'd made a selection and the waitress had taken their order.
"What's this proposition?" she asked, eager to get the
no
out of the way and get on with trying
to figure out how in the hell to get twelve hundred dollars.