Country Love (A Billionaire BWWM Romance) (2 page)

Chapter Two

Tanner

The sun was just
peeking over the hills of Heath County, but I could already tell it was going to
be a scorcher. Heat hung in a haze over the scrubby brown, rolling hills,
collecting in the hollows and dry streambeds of Brock Ranch. Sweat was already
collecting on my brow and I hadn't even gotten out of bed yet.

Sleeping in my own bed. Best damn feeling in the
world.

I grew up here,
my dad grew up here, and his dad too. My great-Grandpa Brock built this place.
Four generations of memories were steeped into the walls.

I spent my whole
tour dreaming of coming back here. Back to the ranch where I grew up rambling
around these hills as wild as a coyote, tussling with my brothers and causing
my mom heartache. The hills used to echo with our shouts, and the shrillness of
my mom's whistle as she called us back to the main house for dinner.

Now, my brothers had
all left to pursue big city dreams or, failing that, settle down with good
women to start their own family ranches.

My parents left
too, though they took a more final route. They were buried a-ways up in the
Highlands, next to Brock parents, grandparents and great-grandparents.

It was silent
here now, and that was unnerving enough to make me sit up straight in the bed.
I was alone at Brock Ranch for the first time in my life, and it just plain
felt wrong. That was hard enough to deal with.

Harder still was
seeing the disrepair. The place I loved so much had fallen into a sad shape while
I was on the road. I only had three weeks before the second leg of the tour
started up again. In the meantime, I had a long-ass list of repairs I needed to
tackle head-on.

I was ready to
get started. My father didn't raise me to run from hard work. That's what this
place needed and that was exactly what I planned on giving it.

The sun rose
higher, slanting across my bedsheets and sending dust motes dancing crazily in
the beam. The white painted walls of the master bedroom still gleamed in spite
of the years it had been since someone last slept here. I stepped out of bed
and pumped some water in the basin, then splashed my face.
Maybe my first upgrade should be modern sinks?

Just then, my
phone vibrated on the dresser my grandfather had made fifty years ago. It was
an odd, discordant sound, and I was instantly on edge. I was even more on edge
when I saw it was Keith, my manager.

The guy wore the
biggest damn cowboy hat I ever saw in my life, but I would bet money those
boots of his never had a speck of real dirt on them. He was a cowboy in clothes
only and he set my teeth on edge. "Yeah," I barked into the phone.

"Good
mornin' to you too, sweetheart," he drawled in that fake accent of his.
"Did I wake you?"

"Nah,"
I grumbled, drying my face on a towel. "I'm up. Whaddya want?"

"I see
you're not in the mood to chat. Fine, I get that. Just wanted to give you a head's
up that Auteur is sending the photographer out to shoot you doing the cowboy
thing at your ranch."

"What's this
now?" I was off. The tour didn't pick up again until three weeks from now.
"I'm on vacation, Keith. There's a shit ton of work that needs to be done
here. I don't want any distractions."

"She won't
be a distraction, I assure you..."

"She?"
I barked. "Yeah, that's going to be a distraction. I don't need a prissy,
big-city photographer mincing around here in her impractical shoes and
complaining about the smell of cowshit. It's a working ranch, Keith, not a film
set."

"Just get
through it then, pardner."

I couldn't
believe he just used the word 'pardner' without a trace of irony. I caught a
glimpse of myself in the old, gilt framed mirror my mother had hung on the wall,
and I could see I was smiling in spite of my irritation. "You win,
Keith," I sighed.

"You always
do the right thing, Tanner, that's why you're my favorite client."

"You're a
pain in my ass and I guess that's why you're a good manager," I huffed
into the phone. "But I'm telling you right now, I've got stuff to deal
with here. If the photographer is really coming to photograph a 'day in the
life' or whatever, she'd better be prepared for what my days entail. Sun-up to
sundown, that's my workday."

"Sounds
familiar," Keith chortled. "Just got off the phone with Blake and he
was complaining that ever since he started in the band with you, he can't sleep
past six in the morning. Says you're worse than his two month old."

I had to laugh.
"Am I as cute as his little girl too? Ask him that for me, will ya?"

"Too afraid
he'll reach through the phone and strangle me with those giant meathooks of
his. Listen man, thanks for sacking it up. I gotta go run herd on the rest of
your wayward crew, make sure they don't enjoy their vacations too much."

"Go ruin
their days like you did mine." I grinned.

"Will do,
Tanner. Enjoy raking cowshit or whatever."

"Will do."
The smell of manure was indeed wafting through the open windows, but I always
thought of it as a good smell. The scent of home evoked memories even more than
the place itself did. My father had me working this land from the moment I
could lift a pitchfork. It was good to be back even if it was for such a short
visit.

Too bad this
photographer showing up had to cut into my peace. Hope she had the good sense
to wear practical shoes.

Chapter Three

Monique

The first thing I
did when I got home from work was grab my Louis Vuitton carry-on down from the
top of my closet.

The second thing
I did was text Chanel, Dayna and Hayleigh.

I hesitated just
before sending the group text, like I always did. That nagging little voice in
the back of my head never seemed to shut up about them, no matter how long we
had been hanging out...which admittedly hadn't been very long.

You don't know them well enough, you're intruding,
they're only putting up with you to be nice, they talk about you behind your
back.

When I moved
here, I joined a gym as my first course of action. I met Chanel Reynolds in the
locker room and nervously complimented her leggings. She made a blithe comment
about hanging out that evening and I had jumped at the chance.

I don't think she
actually meant for me to show up at the bar that night. But I didn't have
anywhere else to be, and I had no friends to speak of.

One problem with
being a rolling stone, gathering no moss, is that it makes it really tough to
gather long term friends.

Chanel had seemed
startled to see me that night, but she gamely introduced me to her long-time
friends Dayna Howell and Hayleigh Perkins. Nervousness made me drink a little
too fast, dance a little too wildly and dance a little too crazily that night
and from then on I was
in
.

I think.

We hung out,
anyway. But it was usually me who had to make the plans. Like right now when I
sent out a group text, demanding that we go out and eat some real food before I
got sent off to Heath County, where chicken-fried steak was considered haute
cuisine.

Thankfully, they
all said yes. It made me feel that maybe, just maybe, the loneliness that
followed me everywhere might finally be over and done with.

"Back to the
homestead, then?" Hayleigh grinned at the table of the outdoor cafe I had
chosen. She leaned over, poking me in the upper arm with a perfectly manicured
fingernail. "Do you have to get your overalls out of storage?"

I rolled my eyes
as Dayna and Chanel fell out laughing. "I don't have to worry about
that," I sniffed, playing along. "They issue overalls at the airport
when you land. Like leis in Hawaii."

The girls burst out
laughing again, just as the waiter smoothly stepped in to retrieve our plates.
It was a balmy spring evening and the scent of flowering trees could be
detected in between the whiffs of exhaust.

Dayna wiped her
eyes and discreetly checked her makeup in the reflection of her cell phone. She
needn't have bothered. In the few weeks since we started hanging out, I never once
saw her with her makeup out of place. She was a girly-girl, from her pink cell
phone case right down to her pink Cosmopolitan. "I'm honestly
jealous," she sighed dreamily. "Tanner Brock is hot as hell."

"And Mo is
totally his biggest fan right?" Chanel teased. "You're a country fan
from way back, aren't you Mo?"

"Ugh,"
I groaned into my appetizer. "Twangy guitars. Kill me."

The girls fell
out laughing again, but I didn't join them. Instead I leaned back in my chair
and closed my eyes for a moment.

Holcum Texas. My
family had spent three years there, the longest I had ever lived anywhere so I
guess I could call it my hometown.
Country
girl
, just one of the many identities I had tried on over the years.

When everything
went to shit in Holcum, I found I needed a new identity, just like always.

City girl was the
one I was attempting now.
I love it here
,
I reminded myself as a bus whooshed by, belching out a cloud of black fumes. A
car horn blared, echoing off the canyons of the skyscrapers that surrounded us.
Dayna, Chanel, Hayleigh, they all grew up here, jaded and used to the hustle
and bustle that surrounded us. They were true city girls, so I was trying to
follow their example. I would never admit it, but a tiny part of me still jumped
when the horns blare.

There were a
million indignities in city life. And as God as my witness, I would never admit
this out loud, but there might have been a small part of me that missed the
slower pace of country living. There were a few good memories of Holcum, like nights
out in the back yard with LeeAnne, giggling and being a normal girl.

Normal girl was
an identity I never got to wear for long.

My eyes popped
back open before I could give away the fact that I was daydreaming. Dayna just
said something clever, obviously, and I joined in the laughter, fidgeting in my
chair to try to dispel the strange unease that settled in my stomach.

"Well, if
you change your mind," Dayna went on, "I have someone I want you to
meet."

"Oh?"
My ears perked up. "Is he employed?" Dayna was a hopeless romantic,
and took my single life as a personal affront to her matchmaking skills. Since
I was new in the city, she considered it her job to fix me up with this brother
of a friend or that nephew of a colleague and for the most part I allowed it.

I was self-aware
enough to know that guys tended to find my outspokenness and - well - my admittedly
terrible temper, intimidating. But I had a few rules.

"Gainfully
employed," Dayna nodded.

"Have all of
his hair?"

"Mmm,"
she hedged, "it's a little thin, but he styles it nice."

I twisted my
lips. "Okay, I'll allow it. How about teeth?"

"Oh come on,
really? Would I steer you wrong, Mo?"

"Just
checking," I grinned, relaxing and enjoying myself. "How do you know
him?"

"Jonathan,"
Dayna practically swooned when she said her new boyfriend's name and we
collectively rolled our eyes, "plays racquetball with him at the gym."

"Racquetball?
Is he a time traveler from the eighties?"

Dayna opened her
big blue eyes innocently. "He...might be a little bit older than us."

"Ugh, come
on Dayna," I sighed. "Spill it.
How much older?"

Her eyes darted
everywhere before she finally sighed. "Eleven years?"

"That's not
too bad," Hayleigh piped up, ready to defend sweet, well-meaning Dayna.

I pressed my lips
tightly together. "Uh oh, I know that look," Chanel said warningly.
"She’s pissed."

"I'm not
pissed," I protested.

"Yeah? You
going to go on the date?" Chanel challenged.

"I wouldn't
steer you wrong, would I?" Dayna practically batted her eyelashes.

"Er, Jeremy
Fatone?" I reminded her.

Chanel and
Hayleigh hooted like talk show audience members. "Busted," echoed Hayleigh.

Dayna nearly spat
out her drink. "I totally apologized for that, come on Mo," she
shrieked. "I had no idea he had a thing for toes." She lowered her
lids meaningfully.
 
"And come
on, fetishes can be fun!"

"Not when
he's stealing my shoes on the first date," I shook my head. "I had to
run out of there barefoot. Thank God I was wearing my cheap flats that
night."

"Well
regardless," Dayna fluttered her hands, dismissing the last disastrous
date she set up for me, "this guy is different. He just got divorced
and...."

"Divorced
too, huh?" I sighed. "Old and divorced. The hits just keep coming...."

"He's not
that
old!" Dayna squeaked.

"I already
said I'd go, Dayna." Then I paused as a worrying thought occurred to me. "Wait,
you told him I’m black, right?"

"Riiight,"
Dayna hedged.

"Oh come
on," Chanel butted in. "You can't spring that on people, they get
thrown off." Chanel leaned back, touching her tightly braided head.
"Don’t you remember what happened the last time? Gotta tell him she's
black, Dayna."

"I'll tell
him," Dayna sighed, looking irritable.

"I'm serious
though," I added. "I'm glad you're looking out for me, babe, but I'm
not into hiding things. I am who I am and if they can't handle it...."

"Hell, I can
barely handle it," Hayleigh interrupted my tirade by pulling the weariest,
most over-it face I've ever seen.

I had to laugh and
conceded. "That's my problem, no one can handle it," I moaned.

"Maybe
Tanner Brock can handle it?" Chanel laughed. "He can use his lasso to
tie you down and then play banjo songs until you give up and start wearing
overalls again."

"I am
never
wearing overalls again!" I
declared vehemently, slamming my hand down on the table. "As god as my
witness, I will go, do my job and then get the hell out before I end up with
mud on my Jimmy Choos. I took the girl out of the country
and
the country out of the girl, and I am not going back!" I
punctuated my little speech with a raised glass, and the girls raise their
fists in solidarity.

"Just make
sure to clean the hay out of your braids before your date," Dayna smiled.
"I'm holding you to this Mo. I think you're going to like him."

"Uggggh,"
I groaned. "Hopefully I won't be so desperate when I get back from Heath
County that I throw myself at the first thing that doesn't smell like
cows." I nodded as our entrees were placed in front of us. "I need to
go do my job and hurry back here to the real world."

Chanel raised her
fork. "We'll make sure to keep it for you while you're gone."

I nodded at her,
oddly touched by her offer, and she took the moment to swipe a bite of my
tilapia. I swatted her hand and laughed, leaning back in my chair again and
inhaling the smoggy air. Then I covered my mouth and discreetly choked into my
hand.