If the next door neighbor’s dogs hadn’t set up a barking chorus with the landlady’s mutts, Nikki might have slept until dark on Monday. That would have been disastrous since her mother expected her to answer the phone at exactly seven o’clock. If she didn’t answer, then her mother would call the police station and the hospitals. Any other day of the week, it didn’t matter if Nikki was lying in a ditch half dead, but no one had better mess with Wilma Grady’s schedule.
“Thank God for barking dogs,” Nikki said as she crawled out of bed. She had an hour until her mother called, so she took a quick shower and got dressed. She sat down on the sofa in her tiny three-room garage apartment and called her mother’s number.
“It’s not seven. My show isn’t over, but there’s a commercial, so what’s wrong?” Wilma said curtly.
“Nothing’s wrong. I thought maybe we’d go out, or I’d bring a pizza or some fried chicken over for supper and we could visit in person,” Nikki said.
“I eat at four thirty so I can take my medicine. I don’t eat fried foods or spicy pizza. You know that, Nikki. The commercial is over. I’ll call you at seven and we’ll visit.” And just like that she was gone.
Nikki was hungry, and she’d figured out that she didn’t have to be in her apartment to talk to her mother on Monday nights at seven o’clock on the dot. She could talk to her anywhere, especially when Nikki’s part of the conversation was nothing more than muttering, “Well, that’s too bad,” or “Bless her heart,” now and then. She could do that in a booth at the Mexican place or sitting in the park while she ate a hamburger. With her purse and keys in hand, she locked the apartment door behind her. She made up her mind as she started the car engine that chicken enchiladas sounded really good that evening.
The hair on the back of her neck prickled when she walked into the restaurant. At first she attributed it to leaving the sweltering night air and coming into a cool building. Then she heard her name and turned to see Tag and Hud sitting in a booth, waving at her to join them.
It would be rude not to sit with them. They were, after all, her best friend’s brothers. Besides, the place was full and there were no more seats available. She threw up a hand in a wave and started that way. When she got close enough, Tag slid over to the far side of the booth to allow room for her to sit beside him.
“How’s the jaw? I see you opted to look like a mangy dog, rather than go clean shaven for a few days,” she said.
“Sore as the devil, but it’ll get well. Maybe you’ll take pity on a poor old hungry dog and go out with him?” Tag cocked his head to one side and whimpered like a puppy.
Nikki grabbed a menu and propped it up in front of her. “You don’t look like you’re starving to me.”
“You’ve met your match, Tag. You might as well admit defeat.” Hud grinned.
“Why’s it so important for me to go out with you anyway?” Nikki asked.
“Because he’s never been rejected, not one time in his whole life,” Hud answered.
Nikki reached up and gently patted him on the cheek. “Poor baby.”
He grabbed her hand, brought her knuckles to his lips, and kissed each one. Sparks flitted around her like Fourth of July fireworks. It had been that way since the first time she met him, and then again a month ago at Emily’s wedding to Justin Maguire. She’d served as maid of honor. Tag and Hud had both been groomsmen, and Tag had glued himself to her side all evening. As much as Nikki would have liked to be the maid of honor who went to bed with one of the groomsmen like in the movies, she wasn’t interested in a one-night stand—not even with the supersexy Taggart Baker. And any kind of fleeting relationship she might have with Tag could complicate her friendship with Emily. No way on the great green earth would she ever do that—Emily meant too much to her.
“Why do you just keep breaking my little cowboy heart?” Tag’s blue eyes begged for an answer.
“Darlin’, you are way too wild for me.” She told him the same thing every time he asked.
The waitress finally made it to their table and took their orders, then promptly returned with their drinks, individual bowls of salsa, queso, and a basket of warm chips. “Orders will be along in a few minutes,” she said, and then hurried off to clean a table so another group could be seated.
Nikki’s phone rang before Tag could come back with one of his famous pickup lines. She dug her cell out of her purse and checked the clock on the wall. It was five minutes until seven, so she was surprised to see her mother’s number pop up. Evidently her mother’s clock wasn’t in sync with the one in the restaurant.
“Hello, Mama.” Nikki would have to talk to Wilma or the world would come to an end for sure. She was about to tell the Baker brothers that she had to take the call and motion to the waitress to make her order to go. Then she would sit on the park bench outside until it was ready. But a long sigh preceded a whisper. “Mrs. Thomas from next door came over with a plate of chocolate chip cookies and asked me to make coffee so we can have a visit. I don’t know what she’s thinkin’. We visit on Tuesday evening at six, never at seven on Monday. She’s getting senile and can’t remember anything.”
“Where is she now?” Nikki asked.
“In the bathroom washing her hands. I’ll have to clean the room when she leaves because she always makes a mess, and all she does is gripe about how her kids never come to see her. I wouldn’t go in that house either. She’s a hoarder. I bet there’s roaches in them boxes she’s got stacked everywhere.”
“Then you want me to call later?” Nikki asked.
“Lord, no, you can’t call later. She’ll stay until nine and you know that’s when I have to get my medicine and then get ready for bed. We’ll just have to talk next week,” Wilma said. “She’s coming out of the bathroom right now.” A long sigh and then the screen went dark.
“You need to take your order to go?” Hud asked.
Nikki dropped the phone back into her purse. “No, Mama has company, so I’ll talk to her later. We usually have a catchin’ up visit on Monday nights.”
“Only once a week?” Tag said.
“The first week we were on our ranch, Mama called twice, sometimes three times a day,” Hud said.
Tag winced when he grinned. “Mama missed her pretty babies.”
Hud chuckled. “Yeah, right. She’s just afraid that you’ll kill your fool self. From the look of your jawbone, she came close to being right. I told her this morning that you wouldn’t be riding bulls on Friday night.”
“Well, if a bull comes through named Fumanchu, you can bet your country ass I’ll ride him, even if I’ve got stitches, a broken arm, and a busted up leg.”
“You’re crazy,” Nikki said.
That was another reason she wasn’t starting something with this cowboy—not even a first date. When Nikki fell in love, she fell hard, and the way Tag lived, well, he’d never see his first gray hair. She’d never knowingly put herself in that kind of situation.
“Maybe so, but when I check out of this life, I’ll be able to say that I lived every single minute,” Tag said.
The waitress brought their food, reminded them that the plates were very hot, and then asked, “Need more chips or dip?”
“I’m good,” Nikki said.
“Prove it.” Tag nudged her shoulder.
Heat popped out in her cheeks in the form of two bright red circles. “You have got to be the biggest flirt I’ve ever known.”
“Thank you. I do my best,” Tag said.
Tag and Hud settled their sweat-stained straw hats on their heads as they stepped out of the cool restaurant into the hot night air. Hud’s truck was parked down the block with the windows rolled up. When Tag opened the passenger door, it felt like a blast from an oven hit him in the face.
“Hurry up and get this thing started so it will cool down,” he said as he got inside.
Hud nodded, started the engine, and turned the A/C as high as it would go. He pulled away from the curb and headed back toward the ranch that he and his brother had bought. It adjoined the huge Longhorn Canyon Ranch, owned by the Maguire family. Their sister, Emily, had married the younger Maguire brother, Justin, and they were about to get their new house ready to move into.
Hud drove west out of town. “We really should name our ranch and get a brand registered.”
“I was thinkin’ the same thing.” Tag smiled and then frowned. “Dammit! This thing hurts like hell when I grin.”
“Serves you right for stepping into another couple’s fight,” Hud told him. “And you weren’t really thinkin’ about a name for our place. Your mind was still on Nikki Grady. What is it about her that makes you keep going back for more rejections?”
“It’s just a game we play. A man would have to be blind or dead not to be attracted to those big brown eyes. But the truth is that in the long haul, we both know she deserves someone who’s grounded and stable, not an old rebel like me,” Tag answered.
“Do you feel more for her than, say, you did for all the other women you’ve sweet-talked into takin’ their clothes off?” Hud took the road heading south toward Sunset.
Tag shrugged. “Maybe. Why are you askin’? Interested in her yourself?”
Hud shook his head slowly. “Not me. She’s sweet and has a firecracker sense of humor, but there’s no sparks between us. Got to admit, though, I see some serious electricity when y’all are flirtin’.”
“She’s fun, and I like her sass. That’s as far as it goes or will go. Like I said, Nikki is one of them good girls who someone with my background don’t have a right to.” Tag adjusted the vents so the cool air blew right on his face. “This thing burns when I sweat.”
Hud made a hard right onto a section line road off Highway 101. “Should teach you a lesson to stay out of other people’s fights.” Another right hand turn down the ranch lane and Hud pointed ahead. “Looks like we got company.”
“Halle-damn-lujah! Maverick and Paxton have arrived. We’ve got help.” Tag was out of the truck the minute Hud parked. He met the two Callahan brothers, distant cousins of his and Tag’s, on the porch in a three-way bear hug instead of handshakes. When Hud arrived, it turned into a back-thumping event that looked like football players congratulating the quarterback on an eighty-yard run for a touchdown.
“We’re here a day early,” Maverick said. “Mam talked about having a going-away party for us. The plans fell through when our sister had to go on a business trip, and our parents had to go to a funeral.”
“Well, we’re glad y’all are finally here,” Tag said. “Y’all had supper? Want a beer?”
“Had supper on the way,” Paxton said. “But we’re Irish. We’d never turn down a beer. Where are we bunkin’? I’ll grab some of our gear and bring it inside.”
Hud unlocked the door and swung it open. “House only has two bedrooms, so we set up twin beds in both of them. It’s a little crowded but better than bunk beds. Me and Tag got one room. Y’all can have the second one. I hate that y’all missed your grandma’s party, but we’re sure glad you’re here.”
“I ain’t sleepin’ in the same room with my brother,” Paxton said. “His snores rattle the windows. I got no problem sleeping on the sofa.”
Maverick took a long look around the sparsely furnished house and turned back to Tag. “It’ll do just fine. Slept in bunkhouses smaller than this many times. Matter of fact, one winter me and Paxton had to stay in an old line cabin and the whole thing wasn’t any bigger than this room right here.”
“I was ready to pour honey on him and stake him out in the snow for the fire ants to eat.” Paxton grinned.
At just over six feet, both Maverick and Paxton had dark brown hair. Maverick was the oldest by three years, but they looked more like twins than Tag and Hud did. About the only difference was that Paxton’s face was slightly rounder and his eyes a lighter shade of green. Their grandmother and the Baker boys’ granny were cousins. They always had trouble figuring out if they were fourth or fifth or twice removed, or what the actual kinship was, so they just told everyone that they were cousins.
“So how is your grandma?” Tag asked.
“Mam is feisty as ever. Says if we don’t behave out here, she’ll get in her truck and come straighten us out,” Paxton said as he tossed a duffel bag through the door.
“And she means it,” Maverick assured them. “Now, about those beers?”
“Tag, you pop the tops on four beers. I’ll help Paxton bring in the rest of their stuff,” Hud said.
“Appreciate it.” Paxton nodded. “My brother packed everything but the splinters from the boards on the corral.”
“You might find those in my bags, so be gentle.” Maverick’s drawl was a mixture of West Texas and Irish. His grandmother had come over from Ireland, but she hadn’t totally lost her accent, and the brothers had spent a lot of time with her. “So the place don’t look as bad as I thought it might. From what I can see from the drive onto the property, the fences are shabby. It’s a wonder your cattle haven’t broken through and gone visitin’ the neighbors before now. I guess doin’ some proper fencin’ is the first order of business this summer?”
“And plowin’ and plantin’.” Hud heard the last of the comment as he came inside with a huge duffel bag on his shoulders. “Then we’ve been workin’ with Emily’s new husband, Justin, on a design for a bunkhouse so we won’t be all crowded up in this little place. We might have the ranch lookin’ pretty good in five years and be ready to expand if the neighbors down the road ever want to sell.”
Maverick pointed toward a bag that Hud brought inside. “That one can go out to the barn to put in storage. Don’t need what’s in it until winter.”
Paxton came in behind Hud with another load. “Guess this one can too. Where’s the barn?”
Hud turned around and headed outside. “Y’all might as well come on and go with us. We still got enough daylight left to show off our new ranch while we drink our beers.”
“Just barely.” Tag grinned and then flinched. “Ouch!”
“Noticed that you’ve already been in trouble,” Maverick said. “What happened?”
“It’s a long story.” Tag brought up the rear as they all paraded out of the house.
“That ends in the emergency room with Nikki Grady,” Hud teased.
“I remember her.” Paxton tossed the bag he’d brought back from the house over into the bed of the truck. “A cute little dark-haired woman with the biggest brown eyes. Emily’s friend who was in the wedding last month, right? Seems I remember you hangin’ around her a lot at the wedding reception.”
Paxton and Hud slid into the backseat, leaving the front passenger seat for Tag.
Maverick got behind the wheel. “I’ll drive. You tell me where to go, Tag. You talked that pretty girl into a night out with you yet?”
“No, he hasn’t,” Hud spoke up. “I think he might have lost his mojo.”
“Surely not,” Paxton chuckled. “All of us hit a dry spell every now and then, but it will rain again someday.”
“I’m beginnin’ to wonder,” Tag said.