Country Love (A Billionaire BWWM Romance) (3 page)

Chapter Four

Tanner

It was a few
moments before sunrise, but I was already saddled up and ready.

The hills rolled
out around me, stretched like a welcome mat at the door of my little corner of
the world. I always appreciated the view from atop a horse, and today was no
different.

Feeling like the
king of the whole damn world, I rode out on Falcon, a spirited two-year old
gelding I had bought upon my arrival here.

Falcon was the
first in many steps I needed to take to get this place running again. Music was
my life now, but it wouldn't always be. I was well aware of my short
shelf-life. I was a phenomenon now, but one wrong move, one bad photograph, one
moment of weakness and it could all be snatched away. Stardom was fleeting but
the land here? This was forever.

The early morning
mist still clung to the grass like a carpet, swirling around Falcon's hooves as
we trotted amiably along the fence line. The pale pink clouds deepened to
fuchsia as the first sliver of sun peeked above the eastern hills, sending out
tentative fingers of lights that stretched out into dawn. I slowed Falcon and
sat there and watched the break of day. "Sunlight's Waking," I
muttered to myself, trying a few different tunes. "Gotta write that shit
down." I almost wished I had my guitar.

Damn, even on vacation, I can't shut off the music.
It slithered
into my brain, demanding to be sung. I started humming to myself, letting the
words of the song develop in my mind like old-fashioned film. The sun rose
higher in the sky, beating down on my shoulders. "It's gonna be a hot
one," I said out loud and knew right away that was the hook.

Songs come to me
this way. When my mind is clear and my thoughts are elsewhere, they worm their
way in until they drown out everything else in my head. I know from experience
that I won't be able to focus on anything else until I got this down.

"Whoa,
boy," I drew Falcon up and slung his reins over a fencepost. He immediately
lowered his head to chomp on a few tufts of grass. I fished my notebook and a
stubby nubbin of pencil out of the back pocket of my Wranglers.

"Gonna be a
hot one," I mused, testing out the tune. "Better take our clothes off
now..."

I chewed on the
pencil, waiting. The rest of it was eluding me, but I knew better than to fight
it. It would come. And dammit, it was going to be a hit.
I'm damn good at this, there's no denying it. It ain't arrogance if
it's the truth.

I swung myself back
up into the saddle and kicked Falcon into a canter.

We were just
cresting the first rise along the western edge of the property line when I saw
the first bit of repair to be done.

The sun was
beating down in earnest now. "Here boy," I told Falcon, draping my
shirt over his saddle. "Hang on to this for me?"

It was hard work
in a way I wasn’t used to anymore. Being onstage wears you out, but it’s
nothing compared to fence repair on a ranch this big. Lunchtime came and went,
and I had barely made any progress. Two miles of repairs behind us, with about
thirty-eight miles to go.

Shit.

Falcon was
looking a little lathered and I had worked up a quite a lather myself by the
time I noticed the cloud of dust on the lonely road that bordered Brock Ranch.

"Oh right,
the photographer," I said out loud.

Falcon whinnied.

"You
couldn't have reminded me?" I chastised him. He looked down to the ground
and refused to meet my eye, like he felt ashamed of himself.
 
I had to chuckle. "Well, if she
wants to get a real feel for Brock Ranch, then let her sit tight while I get
this done. I'm on a tight timetable here."

I went back to
repairing my fence.

Chapter Five

Monique

"That's him,
Miss Williams," the driver drawled. "You want me to leave you off
here?"

"Here?"
This was the middle of nowhere. No house in sight, just a bunch of scrub brush
and brown hills. Everything was shades of brown; sepia, umbers, siennas...the
only thing that broke up the monotony of brown was the brilliantly blue sky
above us and the golden tanned skin of the man working along the side of the
road.

I squinted
through the tinted windows at him and bit my lip without meaning to.

A man in a cowboy
hat and jeans was squatting by a fence rail, a piece of nail poking from the
corner of his mouth. He looked like some sort of cowboy fetish illustration
come to life - completely shirtless and I'll be damned if his torso wasn't
glistening in the harsh sunlight. He was all tanned and toned and looked like
he knew how to swing a hammer, which he did just then with enough force to make
me jump.

He didn't even
look up to acknowledge us. "You sure about that?" I asked the driver,
squinting. "That guy doesn't look like he's expecting anyone."

"Dead sure,
Miss Williams." The driver sounded like he was about to faint with
excitement. "You're looking at Tanner Brock's biggest fan right here. I've
been to twenty-one of his shows. I took this past March off and traveled around
following Tanner's bus from show to show...."

"Yes, okay
thank you," I cut him off. "I guess if you could let me out for a
sec, I'll go see what he wants us to do." I sighed as I pushed the door
open and stepped into the blazing Texas heat.

Tanner still
didn't look up, even though he was clearly showing off for me. Why else would
he be shirtless? His gleaming abs looking like something I could only achieve
after three hours with Photoshop.

I wished I could
stop staring at him. He clearly didn't need the ego boost, not with this little
performance he was putting on for my benefit. He wanted me to see him, and admire
him, and I was falling right into his little trap. It was pathetic the way I
was already undressing him in my mind. He looked so good, I could almost ignore
the scent of manure wafting through the air.

Not manure
, I remind myself.
Bullshit.
Get a grip, Mo.

"Mr.
Brock!" I sang out with a smile. I put on my bright, professional,
get-shit-done face and stepped forward.

My heel sank
right down into the muddy dirt road.

He grunted like a
caveman, then set another nail, still supremely disinterested in acknowledging
my presence
. Fine, whatever, asshole.
I tried to surreptitiously dislodge my shoe, but only succeeded in stepping
backward into deeper mud. The muck absorbed my heel with a disgusting squelching
sound and I was suddenly immobilized. So much for getting out of here without
mud on my shoes…

Tanner swung the
hammer with easy strength, and the clang of the driven nail made my hair stand
on end. I blinked, wondering just how much longer he was going to make me wait
here. He couldn't ignore me for the rest of the day, could he?

I'll be damned if this asshole thinks he can
intimidate me....

My anger was
rising in direct proportion to how hot it was, which meant any moment I was
going to start bawling him out.

Just as I was
ready to unleash my legendary temper, he took off his cowboy hat and wiped his
brow. He looked up lazily, like he only just noticed the huge black town-car in
front of him. Then he shielded his eyes and squinted in a pitch perfect caricature
of a celluloid cowboy. "Sorry bout that, darlin'" he drawled amiably.
"Was in the middle of somethin' there."

I rolled my eyes
. Dear Lord, get me out of this heat.
"Not a problem," I gritted my teeth.

Tanner Brock
braced his arm against the fence, paused, and then leapt over it with a feline
grace I would have never expected from a guy his size. I forcibly closed my
hanging open mouth, but I could feel my jaw dropping again as he strode towards
me.

Up until now, I
hadn't gotten a good look at his face. But when he flashed me the full force of
his megawatt smile, I felt a flutter in my stomach that had nothing to do with the
greasy airport food I had for lunch.

It wasn't that
his face was absolutely perfect.

It wasn't that his
blue, blue eyes were exactly the same shade as the cloudless sky above us.

It was...him.
Maybe the hot sun was scrambling my brain, but he seemed larger than life as he
approached me with that rolling, swaggering gait. He took up space not only
with the sheer, physical size of him, but also with the aura that surrounded
him. He was moving, but he didn't need to. The very air around him swirled with
his larger than life energy. In that moment I understood why he was a star. Men
like him… They have a presence that has to be felt to be understood.

I couldn’t move.
I was stuck fast and sweating like a barn animal.

Perfect.

"Tanner
Brock," he said, his hand outstretched.

"Monique Williams."
I had to lift my chin to look him in the eye. I wasn't a tiny little thing by
any means, but with my heels sunk down into the mud, I only came up to his
chin. He was six foot three...at least.

"Monique, sweetheart,
I'll give it to you straight," he drawled in that cowboy voice. "I
got a lot of work to do round here and not a lot of time to do it. I know you
got a job to do, and I'll do my best to help you out, but I got my own
timetable here." He stared at me, unblinking.

I was taken aback
with his directness. "Well, all right, Mr. Brock..."

"Tanner's
fine, darlin'," he interjected.

"Well
Tanner, my aim is to get some shots of your daily life at the ranch here, so
that works out perfect for me."

Without meaning
to, I had slipped into the slow drawl of Heath County. Tanner noticed
instantly. His eyebrows shot up his forehead. "You a Texas girl, Miss Williams?"

"I lived
here a spell," I smiled. I can turn accents on and off like a faucet.

Tanner flicked
his eyes up and down, so quickly I wouldn't have noticed if he wasn't the sole
focus of my attention. "Pardon me, but I sorta figured a Texas girl would
have better sense when it came to footwear on the ranch."

I looked down at
my submerged heels and bristled. "Well pardon me, but I thought a Texas
boy would have better manners than to be doing chores when he was expecting
company," I shot back.

Tanner's perfect
lips curved downward. "You are right sweetheart, where are my
manners?" he drawled in a high falsetto. "Follow me down to the house
and I'll get you a nice cold glass of sweet tea."

I shot him a
murderous look. "You know damn well I'm stuck," I said.

"Oh
really?" he feigned shock. "Well darlin', I sure hope you packed some
boots in that nice luggage of yours."

He knelt down
into the mud at my feet. "Hey now," I protested as he started yanking
on my foot.

He ignored me and
yanked harder. I nearly toppled over as he pulled. At the last moment, I planted
my hand on his shoulder to keep from landing on my ass.

He felt as solid
as a sun-warmed boulder. My hand lingered like it had a mind of its own. It was
all I could do not to stroke my hand down that sweat-slicked skin...

"There you
are," he said, startling me out of my trance by clapping his hands together.
"Just hop on over to that dry part there."

With a little
squawk, I launched myself into an inelegant little leap and landed on a
non-quicksand portion of the road. "Thank you," I muttered, out of
breath.

"No
problem," he said, touching the brim of his hat. "Ma'am."

I seethed, my
blood hotter than the sun overhead. Never in my life had I wished so badly for
the ability to strike someone down with a look. I wanted to kill him.

And then fuck
him.

And then kill him
again.

Or maybe just one
of the three. I hadn’t decided which.