Trouble With a Cowboy (8 page)

"I
bet a lot of your passionate nature comes out between the sheets."

His
words put a halt to her tirade as she stared at him, wondering what he meant by
his remark.

"Since
you are finally listening to me, let's get the bull and your horse loaded and
get out of Dodge. With a little luck, we can be in Vegas in three days. What do
you say?"

"But
I really want to give him an earful at least."

"I
know, darlin'. We'll take care of Kyle some other time. Right now, we need to
get to Nevada."

"All
right. Fine. Let's get my gear. We can put my horse in the front of the cargo
area and bull in back."

Her
anger would dissipate in time. She knew it better than she knew herself. Her
temper always ran hot. Maybe she could find a different way to let off some
steam, but probably not. Getting on the road would take care of the white hot
rage rushing through her.

They
got her checked out, picked up her small suitcase, the cat, and were on their
way to pick up his trailer in no time.

"Wow.
This is bigger inside than I thought," he told her, glancing around inside
her truck.

"I
forgot you'd never been inside a big rig. I'd give you a tour, but this is all
there is." Her anger had slowly begun to wane. Each shift of the gears
made her feel a little better. The open road calmed her down and soothed her
nerves like nothing else could—except for maybe one thing.

"I
can't imagine staying in here twenty-four seven."

"How
big is your place?" she asked. His eyes narrowed into slits. She wondered
why he looked irritated at her question. "Never mind. It's none of my
business anyway."

"Let's
just say it's pretty good sized. I breed American Bucking Bulls. I also run
cattle and breed Quarter Horses."

"Damn.
What don't you breed?"

"Wives,
girlfriends, or lovers."

"Whoa,
wait a minute. I'm not looking for any kind of a relationship. I like my life
on the road. I sure as hell don't need a man on a permanent basis. They are
nothing but a pain in the ass."

"Good
because I don't need an undying relationship either. Casual sex is good for me
when I need it."

A
quick exhale blew the hair off her forehead. "I'm glad we're on the same
page. Traveling partners for a few days, right?"

One
dark eyebrow shot up when she glanced his way. He looked like he wanted to say
something more except he refrained simply by saying, "Yes, ma'am."

"Wonderful."
Then why all of a sudden do I feel so
alone?

Silence
encompassed the cab for the rest of the ride to the park. Images of the two of
them sprawled across the bed in the trailer, naked and enjoying each other's
bodies sped across her mind. Need spiked hard. Both nipples beaded into tight
little nubs and she thanked the stars above for the oversized shirt she'd
donned before they left the room. Her clit throbbed with her ever increasing
heart rate. The tips of her fingers itched to smooth over the hard planes of
his chest.

With
every breath, she prayed she could walk away at the end of the trip and go on
about her business as if nothing had happened. Somehow she didn't think it
would be quite so easy.

* * * *

Within
two hours, they had both animals loaded as the buildings of Littleton, Oklahoma
faded fast into the distance in her rearview mirrors. Tucker sat quietly in the
passenger seat and she wondered what thoughts might be going through his mind. Her
cat had made friends with Tucker the minute they started driving, by parking
her butt in his lap, curling up into a ball and going to sleep.

"You’re
in her seat."

"I
guess so," he replied while his hand stroked Macy’s head.

"She
likes you, otherwise she wouldn’t be curled up in your lap."

"Wonderful.
I’ve made friends with your cat."

"Well
it’s better than what happened in the motel room, isn’t it?"

They
hadn't really discussed what had happened between them earlier. It wasn’t like
there was a whole lot to discuss anyway. He definitely knew his way around a
woman's body. The way his tongue had…

"Jacie?"

"Uh…sorry.
I didn't hear you."

"I
asked you where you want to stop for the night. You know this road a lot better
than I do."

"Yeah.
Well, I usually spend the night in rest areas, but there are a few pull offs we
can use. I know a few farmers on the way where we can stop and let the animals
out," she said, glancing across the cab.

"We'll
have to stop for dinner at some point."

"What
about fast food? We should make whatever miles tonight we can."

"You're
the boss."

She
captured her bottom lip between her teeth. Never in her life had a male simply
trusted her to make the decisions. There had always been the strong-handed type
that wanted to tell her what to do all the time. Tucker's personality intrigued
her. She’d always thought it took a really confident man to not feel threatened
by a woman. The problem was, she’d yet to meet one—until now.

The
rumble of the engine lulled her into a peaceful state of mind. This was the
part of her job she loved. The endless miles from one side of the country to
the other, seeing different landscapes every day, meeting new people, but still
having the quiet time to think, dream, and plan her future.

Her
CB crackled as a deep voice said, "Hey, baby girl. What's shakin’? Haven't
seen you in awhile. Come back."

She
chuckled and grabbed the microphone. "Hey, big daddy. Not much on this
end. Some trouble in Littleton, but on the road now."

"You
come into some money lately, baby. You got one hell of a trailer behind your
rig."

"Not
me, sugar. It's cargo."

"Must
be some pricey freight."

"You
could say so, yeah. PBR bull ridin' there."

"Bull?"

"Big
old white thang." One look at Tucker and she almost burst out laughing. A
small wrinkle creased the skin between his eyebrows as his eyes narrowed into
irritated slits.
What the hell is he
getting so irritated about? I'm only kidding.

"He's
a papered American Bucking Bull," Tucker added to the conversation.

"Somebody
ridin' shotgun, babe?"

"Yeah.
Big boy's owner."

"You
let some dude in your cab?"

"No
choice."

"Dayum!
I never thought I'd see the day, Jacie Hawkins, when you would allow some
man
in your cab. I'll have to shake his
hand."

"Stuff
it, big daddy."

A
roar of laughter echoed over the airwaves and she smiled.

"Back
off the hammer, honey. You in a hurry?"

"Yeah.
Gotta make Sin City in three days."

"Bear
trap twenty miles ahead of you."

"Thanks."

"See
ya on the flip."

"Ten-four."

"What
the hell was that all about?" Tucker asked as she replaced the microphone
on the metal clip.

"Nothin'
why?"

"Were
you even speaking English, because I don't think I understood a word of the
whole conversation."

"Trucker
talk," she replied with a shrug.

"I
guess so."

"I'm
sure you'll pick up on some of the slang since you'll be sitting up here with
me for three days."

"Do
I want to?"

"You
might. Conversations go on all the time. We pass on information to each other."
A quick check of her mirrors revealed only empty road behind her. "You
heard him mention back off the hammer?"

"Yes."

"He
meant slow down. There's a cop approximately twenty miles ahead."

Tucker
shook his head and smiled. "You amaze me."

"Why?"

"All
of this," he replied with a wave of his hand. "You take to it like a
fish to water. A job some men wouldn't do and here you are, a very beautiful
woman taking on something so opposite of who you are inside."

Anger
made heat flush up her neck. She fastened her gaze on Tucker. "Don't think
because we are traveling together that you suddenly know me inside out. You
don't know me at all."

Chapter Four

"Easy,
Jacie. It wasn't an insult. I'm fascinated," he replied, turning sideways
in his seat. "Let me tell you what I think."

"Great,"
she snapped, returning her gaze to the windshield.

"I
think you're hidin' behind this persona. You keep your hair up in a dirty ball
cap. You wear big shirts to hide your curves. You talk the talk and walk the
walk, but honey, you are all woman under there. You still like your perfume,
thong underwear, and pink bras. What would your trucker buddies say if they
knew?"

"Forget
it, Tucker. This is the real me. I'm stubborn, independent, loud-mouthed when I
get drunk and I wish I could pee standing up."

A
roar of laughter bounced off the walls of her truck. The irritation racing
through her, increased.

The
laughter went on for a moment, but she really couldn't find the humor in the
situation.

"Do
you know what else?"

"No,
but I'm sure you're going to tell me."

"You
also have very sensitive lips."

She
clamped her thighs together to stop the sudden streak of heat settling between
them.

 
"You'd like my tongue…everywhere. I love
your breasts. They fill my hands just right."

Damn the man!
"Okay. Let's get something straight here. Business only until we reach
Vegas. Got it?"

"If
you insist, but you have it and I want it." Before she knew what he was
doing, he reached across the cab to slide a finger over her nipple. "We
still have a bet to work out the details on."

The
torture of his touch rerouted the signals of arousal in her brain. "Bet?"

"The
handcuffs." The teasing smile returned as desire pooled in her belly.

Right. The handcuffs. Mmm.

"You
didn't forget did you?"

"Uh,
no. I'm actually looking forward to having my way with your body," she
said. Forward is good with him, she decided.
I have to stay on my toes or he'll have me upside down before I know
what hits me.
She tapped her finger to her lips. "You know on second
thought, you can keep the peeing standing up. If I have to give up multiple
orgasms to be able to pee without squatting, I'll keep the multiple orgasms."

His
mouth opened and closed several times. She couldn't help the smirk she knew
lingered on her lips. He must have decided to let her remark lie, because he
turned around in his seat to stare back out the windshield.

The
radio came on with a twist of her fingers and she plugged in her IPod. "I
hope you like country and old rock. It's all I have on mine unless you have
one. I can plug in any kind to play over the radio. I have Garth Brooks, Luke
Bryan, Bryan Adams, Clay Walker, Sugarland and several others on there."

"We
can play yours for a while and then we'll play mine. Work for you?" he
asked, glancing at her from his side of the cab.

"Yep."

Song
after song played in a wide variety of music. She found herself singing along
to some and tapping her fingers on the steering wheel. The penetrating look
from her traveling partner sent chills along her arms. All she would have to
say is one word—yes—and her forced abstinence would be over in a heartbeat.

Comfortable
silence surrounded them. Big daddy had been right. It had always been her
policy to never allow anyone inside the cab of her truck, much less a man, but
here sat the one guy who had invaded her life like a tornado. Everything he
touched molded to his specifications, including her. She wasn't sure she liked
it. Independent was her middle name or should have been. A lesson in
stubbornness directed toward Tucker would teach him something about women.

Her
parents had hated her job from day one. The day she’d told them she quit
college to get her trucker's license, she thought for sure her mother would
stroke out.

"You
want to do what? You can't be serious, Jacie," her mother said, her hand
to her throat in shock. Dorothy
Harlin
Hawkins, born and
raised Southern Belle, stood wide-eyed behind her father's desk, her hand on
his shoulder. Her mother came from old money. She could trace her roots to the
Mayflower and her great-great-great grandfather fought in the Civil War as a
decorated major for the Confederacy. Lucky for her mother's family, they socked
their money into Federal funds knowing the Civil War wouldn't be kind to the
states who succeeded, enabling them to hang onto their home.

"I
quit college and I've enrolled in a vocational program to get my commercial
driver's license."

"What
exactly is a commercial driver's license?" her father asked. Carl Hawkins
was a self-made workaholic. Early on, he invested in Tennessee Walking Horses
and built his farm into a multiple thousand acre estate where he bred, trained
and sold the expensive horses. The farmhouse she grew up in actually could be
classified more of a mansion. Five bedrooms and four bathrooms within
ten-thousand square foot plantation style home, spoke of the money socked away.
A multi-million dollar trust fund would be hers someday—the day she finally
conformed to her parent’s wishes, married and quit driving trucks across the
country.

Polished
and sophisticated is what she'd been raised to be. Jacie, on the other hand,
left it up to her sisters. Marcia, Adriana and Olivia personified the Southern Belle
in the Hawkins household. She left it up to four brothers to carry on the
Hawkins name. All but Jacie and Olivia so far, had married old money, but her
youngest sibling had her sight set on one of the local breeders. Her parents
had made their disappointment apparent on many occasions, to Jacie. As the
middle daughter, there wasn't the pressure her older siblings had, but Jacie
felt it nonetheless.

"A
license that enables me to drive eighteen-wheelers, father."

"You
mean those huge trucks on the highway driving from one end of the country to
the other? Jacie Margaret, have you lost your mind?" her father ranted,
jumping to his feet, rushing around the edge of his desk.

"It's
what I want."

"But,
Jacie…"

"No,
Mother. I've already made up my mind. I can't be who you want me to be. I'm not
cut out to be the pretty thing on some man's arm. I'm me, and it's all I'll
ever be. I can't help it if you are disappointed, but this is something you'll
have to accept."

She
shook her head to clear the weary thoughts. Driving meant everything to her,
but her parents still hadn't come to grips with her choice. They fought her at
every turn. Refusing to help her buy tires in Littleton screamed of their
displeasure at her choice.

"Something
wrong?" Tucker asked, bringing her attention back to the coming darkness
inside the cab.

"No.
Just thinking."

"About?"

"What
I'm hungry for."

The
wicked grin spreading across his lips made her heart skip a beat.

Well, shit. I didn't mean it like
that.

"I
meant food. You know, chicken, burgers, Mexican."

"I'm
good with whatever you want, darlin'."

Whipped cream on his chest would be
nice. After all, handcuffing him to his bed gives me all kinds of ideas.

"We
haven't made very many miles yet. I think if we grab something quick, we can
make Amarillo before we stop for the night."

"Correct
me if I'm wrong, but isn't there some kind of rule about truckers driving only
a certain amount of time every day?"

"Yes,
but since I didn't drive for the last two days, I can technically drive
fourteen hours. The animals won't be able to handle that long in the trailer
though. I know of a place outside Amarillo where we can let them out to stretch
their legs while we sleep."

"Or
do other things." His eyes sparkled with a mischievous look. She had to
wonder what he had in mind or if her ideas mirrored his.

Heat
crawled up her neck as she shifted on the seat to relieve the pressed between
her thighs.
Damn the man could turn her
on.
"Uh, no." She checked her mirrors, changed lanes after going
around another trucker and saw a sign for several types of fast food at the
next exit. "There's a good truck stop coming up with fast food nearby.
Let's hit it, gas up and we'll be good until we reach Amarillo."

"You're
in charge."

A
quick glance at him revealed nothing but a smile, and a playful wink.

This is either going to be a real
long trip or an extremely short one. I haven't decided yet.

One
gas pump sat empty to her right under the bright lights of the canopy and she
pulled up close enough for the gas hose to reach her tanks. The sky looked
bleak with the dark, low clouds hanging off in the distance. If she didn't know
better, it appeared to be getting ready to snow. "Great. I love driving in
shitty weather," she grumbled, climbing down from the truck and slamming
the door.

Tucker
emerged from around the passenger side. "Do you want anything from inside
for the road?" he asked, sliding his credit card into the pump so she
could fill up.

"Yeah.
Grab me a bottle of water. A big one and a Snickers. I need my sugar fix for
after dinner."

The
brush of his lips on hers, took her by surprise. It appeared like he was going
to make her regret her decision of strictly business partners.

"No
problem. I'll be right back."

Jeans
fit snug against the curve of his ass. Her cheeks puffed out with the breath
she released in a rush. Never in her life had she felt this sexually wound up.

"Good
grief. I need to get my head out from between my legs. If this keeps up, it'll
take us over a week to hit Vegas because we'll be stopping every hundred miles
to screw around." The dial on the gas pump ticked off the hundreds of
dollars it cost to fill her tank, while she watched in rapt attention, waiting
for Tucker to return.

"Well
if it ain't Jacie. How the hell are ya, honey?"

She
laughed when a big, burly, six-foot something man picked her up and swung her
around in a circle. A swift punch to his bulky arm only bounced off the rock
hard bicep of his upper limb.

"It's
great to see you, Sam. Where you been? You haven't even been on the radio
lately. I miss our talks, ya know."

A
frown crossed his face and she felt her heart flip over. Something wasn't
right.

"Are
you going to introduce me to your friend, Jacie?" Tucker stopped at her
side, handing her the water.

One
look at his face showed the irritation she'd heard in his voice. If she didn't
know better he almost sounded…jealous.

"Tucker,
this is Sam. A good friend of mine. Sam, this is Tucker. My cargo belongs to
him."

"What
kind of cargo?"

"An—"

"A
PBR American Bucking Bull," Tucker said, interrupting her, much to her
irritation.

She
silently compared the two men and unfortunately, Sam came up short. Tucker and
Sam stood pretty close to the same height. Sam had bulges and more muscle mass
than a professional wrestler, whereas Tucker had the lean build of a
hard-working man. Someone who doesn't sit on his hands if there's work to be done,
but jumps in and gets physical right alongside his men. Tucker's baby blues
could be warm and soothing like earlier as they were about to have sex or icy
blue if he was angry. Sam sported big brown eyes like a big teddy bear. That's
exactly what she thought of her friend.

"Easy
you two." Stepping between the two men, she told Sam about their trip to
Vegas, a little about the trouble she'd had in Oklahoma and how Tucker had
helped her out. "We've got a business deal. I run the bull to Sin City,
he's paying for expenses."

"I
never thought I'd see the day. You're hot for this guy," Sam snarled.

Where the hell did that come from?
"Wait
a minute here. You aren't my father nor are you my brother so back off, Sam. If
anything goes on between me and Tucker, it's none of your business."

"You
said it, darlin'," Tucker replied with what looked like a sneer to his
lips. The swift elbow to his abdomen cut off his words.

"Does
your daddy know you're truckin' with some guy and spreadin' those gorgeous
thighs for him?"

"We
aren't sleeping together, Sam. Even if we were, it's no concern of yours."

"How
about I make a phone call then, eh?"

"All
right, Sam, I've had enough of this. You may be my cousin, but you can't tell
me what to do. I'm well over eighteen and legal is all fifty states. Again, I
repeat. It's none of your business what I do or don't do." She crossed both
arms over her chest and tapped the toe of her boot on the pavement. "So
you know, my
daddy
left me high and
dry in Littleton. Pissed is a mild word for what I'm feeling toward him right
now."