The Blacker the Berry (4 page)

He wanted her to say something, anything to prove to himself that the vision in front of him was really the woman he thought she was. But she just shook her head as she watched her friend take Ty’s hand before they both headed down the porch steps into the front yard. When she went to follow, Russell called her name softly, causing her to turn back around and face him.

“Yes?”

“You really do look lovely.”

“You say that as if you’re surprised.” There was a hint of laughter in her voice, as if she was making a joke. The only problem was, he couldn’t tell at whose expense it was.

The truth be told, though, he was a bit surprised. Not that she could look lovely, but that he found her attractive, and not just in a common, casual there’s-something-attractive-about-every-woman-kind-of-way, but in a want-to-get-her-naked-and-do-something-about-it-kind-of-way. Which was an oddity. She certainly wasn’t his type, but he couldn’t help but react to this gorgeous woman in front of him. She was a sight to behold, and he was doing his damnedest to look. It might not be politically correct, but he wasn’t one to pass up an opportunity like this one. “Everything about you surprises me.”

“Good.”

“Good?” He hadn’t been expecting her to say that.

“Yes. If I was so easy to figure out, this would be boring,” she said with a wink before turning and heading down the stairs.

Tonight was definitely proving to be an eye-opening experience, in more than one way. He followed her toward the car in anticipation of the evening.

Chapter Four

Tamara considered herself a worldly person. She wasn’t a jaded woman, or someone who was easily shocked by the world around her, but this shit here—this do-si-do stuff—was for the freaking birds.

With her mouth gawked wide, she stared at the crowded dance floor of the Watering Hole and wondered what in the world her big butt was doing there. The only other person of color that she could see besides Charlotte was a Latino man in the far corner, looking as at home as every plaid-loving man in the room. This was not a dream. This was
Hee Haw
come to life.

They’d arrived in this otherworldly place twenty minutes ago, and she was still trying to figure out why there was a list of patrons waiting for a table. Ty had seen someone he did business with and had gone over to say hello. When Tamara wondered aloud at the wait, Russell offered to check with the hostess. Although she loved to people watch, this was better than any airport terminal or amusement park. The people here were a sight to behold.

Tamara was hard pressed not to break into laughter. No one would ever believe that she and Charlotte had gotten all dolled up to come to a barn raising in the middle of no-man’s-land. Never before had she seen so many rednecks, literally and figuratively, or cowboy hats in one place in her entire life. To her utter surprise, it wasn’t just the men wearing hats; the women wore them too. They also wore jeans tight enough to keep Monistat in business for a decade, as well, but that was really neither here nor there.

It wasn’t often that Tamara felt out of place, but damn, today was the day. If she hadn’t walked in with two of the buffest, tallest men in the room, she would have booked her black ass out of the room as quickly as possible.

“Close your mouth, or you’re going to catch flies.” The teasing tone of Charlotte’s voice reeled Tamara back in. With wide eyes, she turned and faced her friend, amazed her former city-living friend seemed at ease here.

“There are no words,” she finally said when nothing else would come. “This is beyond anything I would have ever imagined. Is this much plaid
legal
in the state of California?”

“Apparently.” Charlotte leaned in closer to her and lowered her voice. “And the part that’s going to slay you is, this is what they would consider their good clubbing clothes.”

“Shut up.”

“Sorry, girl.” Charlotte laughed. “It’s the gospel truth.”

“And you live here, knowing this? On purpose?”

“Well, it’s not like we come in here often, and besides”—Charlotte bumped her hip into Tamara’s and pointed toward the filled bar at the denim-covered rears—“there
are
some perks.”

Now this they could agree on. The asses she was privy to view were not ones to sit behind a desk for eight hours a day. These were tight, firm buns that got that way through hard outdoor labor, not an hour in a gym. “I guess there is something to be said for sexy men in jeans and cowboy hats. And let’s not forget that little twang they have in their voices. I can’t discern what it’s a mixture of, maybe southern gentlemen with a hint of rake and a dash of good ol’ boy, but whatever it is, it gives me a tingly in my tummy and a moistness in my panties.”

“Girl, you’re preaching to the choir.” Charlotte’s laughter drew some curious gazes their way.

A sun-bleached blond, his skin tanned a honey bronze, turned at their laughter with a sly look. He caught Tamara’s gaze with his own, and with a seductive smile on his lips, he winked.

“Good Lord.” Tamara fanned her face with her hand. “Okay, scratch that shirt complaint. I’m beginning to think it will look awful nice on my floor.”

“You are so bad.”

“Really?” Russell asked, coming up from behind them. “Tell me more.”

Before Charlotte did just that, Tamara bumped her friend gently with her elbow. “Just girl talk. It wouldn’t interest you in the least.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure. If girl talk makes your eyes glow like that, then I’m definitely interested.”

“Is our table ready?” She batted said glowing eyes and changed the subject, not willing to be pulled into this battle of wills with Russell. Truth be told, she was a bit upset with him for not agreeing to pose. It was stupid, and she refused to pout about it, but it still sucked.

Seriously, Tamara didn’t think she was asking too much. These groups of photos could be the artistic break she was looking for. Then again, to be fair, she was well aware there were some people who just didn’t like to have their pictures taken. It only blew that Russell was one of those people.

“Yes, but do you really think changing the subject is going to make me any less interested in what you were talking about?”

“No, but your interest won’t make me spill my secrets.”

“What will?”

It could never be said Tamara was one to miss an opportunity when it was presented to her. “If you pose for me, I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

“Anything? No holds barred?”

“Anything.”

“Tempting.”

That was a start. “I’d give you carte blanche ove—”

“You.”

His request sent a shockwave through her system and had her stuttering like a fool. “Na—no.”

“Pity.” He gave her a knowing look and smiled. Then turned around and walked away, leaving Tamara and Charlotte goggling in his wake.

Oh my. Where the hell had that come from? Tamara could only stare after Russell as he strolled over to Ty and wonder if she had imagined that entire exchange. Was he…flirting with her? No. It couldn’t be. Pretty boys like him didn’t flirt with girls like her unless they were getting paid obscene amounts of money. And the only thing obscene about her bank account was the bareness of it.

“Ladies,” Ty called, gesturing with his hand for them to join them.

“Be right there, honey,” Charlotte said with false cheerfulness as she grabbed Tamara’s arm in her hand. Lowering her voice, she spoke quickly as they began to walk toward the two men. “What in Rick James’s name was that about?”

“You got me.” Even though it amused Tamara that Charlotte reverted back to their high school days’ repartee, it wasn’t enough of a distraction to take away from the anomaly that had just occurred.

“Okay, I got you. But does he?”

“Girl, please.” It was as much of an answer as it wasn’t, and Charlotte knew it as well as she did.

“And that means?”

“That we’re going to have to pray to Father Rick for answers, ’cause I haven’t a clue.”

Charlotte pulled her to a stop and turned her around so they were facing one another. Staring intently into her eyes, she asked, “Do you and Russell have a thing going on?”

She wondered for a moment if her friend’s pregnancy had addled her brains. “I met the man two days ago.”

Charlotte shook her head. “Not true, you met him at my wedding.”

Tamara pushed down the urge to roll her eyes at the distinction. “Fine, I re-met the man two days ago.”

“I slept with Ty the first night we met,” Charlotte retorted in a stage whisper.

Tamara chuckled. “I sincerely doubt either of you did any sleeping.”

“Oh hush.” Charlotte was still a bit embarrassed about her whirlwind courtship with Ty, which of course meant that as her best friend, Tamara was required to tease her about it at every given turn. “And answer my question.”

“No, I haven’t slept, stroked, sucked, or fucked Russell.”

“Yet?”

“Don’t go there.”

“That wasn’t a no.”

Tamara didn’t need Charlotte to tell her the obvious. She was well aware of everything she’d said and didn’t say. “Let’s just drop this and eat.”

“It’s dropped all right. For now.”

“I’m starved,” Tamara said brightly, hoping to drown out Charlotte’s parting words.

“Then let’s take our seats,” Ty said, gesturing in front of him.

Tamara knew dinner would only be a brief reprieve and had no doubt she wouldn’t be able to escape Charlotte’s scrutiny forever.

* * *

Russell didn’t know why he hadn’t seen it before, but Tamara was quickly becoming the most fascinating woman he’d ever known. She was just as lively at dinner as she’d been the previous night while playing beauty shop with Charlotte. It was becoming increasingly apparent there was nothing she didn’t have an opinion about or felt unable to express. She did it in a joking way that kept her from sounding like a know-it-all and kept them all laughing throughout the meal.

It was suddenly so apparent why Ty had been desperate to have her come cheer Charlotte up. No one could be around her for long without being infected with her joyous attitude.

She took to her food with the same gusto he was beginning to see she took to life. Instead of repulsing him, though, it appealed to him. It wasn’t as if she was overeating or anything. Her meal was smaller than his own by far, but she enjoyed her food in a way he hadn’t seen a woman do in years. She savored each bite as if it was a gift. It was refreshing to meet a woman who didn’t calorie count or avoid bread like it was the plague.

As they waited for dessert to be served, a cool voice spoke from behind him. “Russell, I didn’t know you were in town.”

From the tone of the voice and the way Ty frowned, Russell knew without a doubt who was behind him. Sandra Hart was the only woman Ty wouldn’t muddy his boots to save from a stampede. She was as bitchy as she was beautiful, but she was damned good in bed, the one and only reason Russell put up with her. Sometimes a man had to let the little head have a say in the decisions the big head made.

He pushed back from the table and stood, as his momma had taught him as boy, and turned to face the blonde woman. “How are you, Sandra?” He leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek, inhaling her overpowering perfume as he did. There was absolutely nothing subtle about Sandra, not her fragrance, not her low-cut blouse and tight jeans, or that ruby red color staining her lips. She was vulgar in the sleaziest of ways, and normally, he adored it.

Normally.

“Other than being a bit peeved you haven’t called me, I’m fine.” She pouted prettily. That one little look of hers spoke volumes of the retribution Russell would have to pay in order to get back in her good graces. Not that he wanted to. He was a bit over them. “If I knew you were coming here, I could have accompanied you instead of Christian.” Sandra gestured to her twin brother, Christian, who was standing next to her, looking as bored as Russell was beginning to feel.

The tall, silent man was a masculine version of Sandra, proving that their shared DNA worked well with two X chromosomes or with just one.

“Christian.” Russell didn’t offer a hand, knowing from experience that the other man wouldn’t take it. Not that Russell blamed him. He didn’t imagine he would be overly friendly to a man sleeping with his sister with no thought of marriage in mind.

“Russell.” The other man surprisingly managed to sound more cordial than he had in the last two years since they’d moved to town. “In town long?”

Russell was going to have to get used to small town living all over again if he was ever going to make it here. No one gave a second thought to butting headlong into someone’s business or asking a question others might consider impolite. But that was the price he’d have to pay to relocate. So, even though he didn’t feel as if he owed anyone an explanation to the whys and hows of his life, he answered anyway. “Just the weekend, as usual.”

“Is your house done?” The predatory tone in Sandra’s voice had him mentally taking a step back. She was a bit too interested for his bachelor peace of mind.

“Close, but not entirely.”

“I’m sure you can’t wait until it is. I know you must be tired of staying with…friends.” She shot a glance over his shoulder in Ty’s direction, prompting Russell to wonder, and not for the first time, if there was a shared history between his friend and her.

“More like they’re tired of me intruding on them,” he said in a teasing tone as he shot a glance over his shoulder. At that moment he spotted Tamara looking on with interest, which brought another reminder from his mother. “How rude of me, let me introduce you to—”

“We’ve met them already,” Sandra interrupted, waving her hand in the air as if dismissing Ty and Charlotte.

Her bad-mannered behavior not only surprised Russell, it angered him, but before he could reprimand her, her brother spoke up.

“Well, maybe not all of them.” Christian shared the same glass-clear blue eyes and predatory stare of his sister, only his weren’t directed toward Russell as Sandra’s were. His were fully on Tamara. A fact that quickly ruffled Russell’s feathers.

Even more annoying, though, was her answering smile in the other man’s direction.

“Hi, I’m Tamara Holifield, Charlotte’s friend from Los Angeles.” Before Russell could protest, Christian walked around him, took her proffered hand, and kissed the knuckles in an inane attempt to appear courtly. To Russell, though, all he managed to do was to look like the ass he was. And if he thought Tamara was going to fall for that, he was a fool ten times over.

“Mmm…” Tamara murmured as her grin spread wider.

What the hell! She isn’t going to buy that bull, is she?

“Nice to meet you, Tamara; I’m Christian Malt.” So nice, apparently he didn’t feel a need to release her hand. “And how long are you in town?”

“Just the weekend, the same as Russell.”

“Since the weekend is almost up, then, I’d best make do with the time we have left. Care to dance?”

“I’d love to.”

Apparently she was
. Flabbergasted, Russell stared speechlessly at Tamara as she rose from her chair. She didn’t know Christian from Adam, and she was just going to go off and…
dance
with him.

“Dance?” The amused tone in Sandra’s voice pulled him back from the brink of madness. “Are you sure you’ll be able to keep up? I’d hate for you to tire out the second you get out there.”

“Sandra.” Russell frowned at her borderline-insulting comment. Either she was really in full bitch mode tonight or he was beginning to notice her bite was a bit more aggravating than her bark.

“Tire out.” Tamara snorted with derision. “Sweetheart, I don’t know what
y’all
call that dance out there, but back home we call it the Electric Slide. I can do that move in my sleep. Instead of worrying about if I can keep up, you might be worried about your friend here.” From the way she drawled “y’all” and the twinkle in her big brown eyes, Russell could tell she was far from cowed by Sandra’s callous manner.