“And are you getting the urge?” he asked with a smile.
“Excuse me. I have to get back : She turned and hurried toward the shop, but her way was blocked by her other nemesis, who stepped away from the pool table and into her path.
“Yoa’d better think about what I said. Parnell’s becoming more persistent; Gabe said, studying her.
“I’d say you both hold the world’s record for that hait .” “don’t let anger make you careless : The rough timbre of his voice and the intensity in his eyes stopped her from walking away
She swallowed. “I can handle him.”
“In here, maybe. But out there? Doxi t kid yourself.” His glance moved over her. “And that outfit doesn’t help your cause, either. You must know you’re dressed like every cowboy’s dream: ‘
Against her will her body responded with a warm flush.
“Now it’s real nice for those of us with some restraint ; he continued, “but tempt inga man like Parnell with tight little shorts is dangerous”
“I beg your pardon!” she exclaimed, glad for an excuse to be angry. “What I wear is none of your concern !”
“I’m only trying to warn you.”
“Save it : She pushed past him and stormed into her shop, her heart beating wildly. Once again he’d completely destroyed her composure. What right did he have making such personal comments about her appearance ? Some nerve, to discuss her tight shorts.
Which means he’s noticed, whispered her libido And you like that, don’t you? Desire, so carefully monitored and controlled, began stretching within her. She didn’t want to feel this craving for Gabe Escalante, but apparently she couldn’t help herself.
As the minutes ticked away, she was aware of every move he made over by the pool tables. And with that awareness, passion shouldered its way to the forefront of her consciousness. She’d never paid much attention to the lyrics of the country songs played at Rowdy Ranch, but tonight the words of love and lust wouldn’t leave her alone. I want you, crooned a song, and instinctively
Dallas glanced over at the pool tables.
As if sensing the direction of her gaze, he looked up. She turned away, not ready to confront that heated stare. Moments later, she found herself watching him again, and again he lifted his head from the shot he’d been about to make. This time she didn’t look away. Love me tonight, demanded another song. Love me now. Love me right. She noticed Gabe’s fingers tighten on the pool cue and saw a muscle hvitch in his jaw. Longing exploded within Dallas and she trembled. Her customer spoke to her, and with an effort she broke the charged connection with Gabe.
She forced herself to concentrate on her work, until a familiar phrase from a new song distracted her again. Somethingabout “a cowboy s dream.” That’s what Gabe had called her. She’d been unable to forget the way he’d looked at her when he’d said it, as if he wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her senseless. She’d reacted to his comments with anger because she couldn’t allow him to see that he’d touched a deep chord of sensuality that was still vibrating.
She tried to ignore the song, but the words hammered at her. And I’m going crazy, no matter how cool
Iseem, ‘cause she is the answer to this cowboy’s dream. Dallas clenched her jaw. She wouldn’t look at Gabe. She wouldn’t. But at last she peeked in the direction of the pool tables. He wasn’t there. Disappointment felt like a soggy lump in her stomach.
Wondering if he’d left for the night, she glanced out toward the bar. He sat on a stool, a half-empty mug of beer in one hand, his gaze fastened on her.
The song’s refrain swirled between them-cause she is the answer to this cowboy’s dream. Dallas’s heartbeat quickened as he slowly raised the mug in salute. Then he winked, tilted back his head and drained the contents of the mug. When she returned to her haircut, her hands quivered so much she almost snipped off the tip of her customer s ear.
THE NExT MoRNING Dallas made a long-overdue phone call across town to her mother. She hoped Lucille Frakes had found a job. When she and Dallas’s stepfather had decided to relocate from Texas to Arizona, Dallas had thought she’d be able to convince her mother to find work. Lucille was far too dependent on Jeb Frakes for Dallas’s taste, but then her mother had always allowed men, including Dallas’s father, to dominate her.
After answering the phone and sounding delighted to talk, Lucille chattered in southern-belle style about the activities of Dallas’s trvo brothers, two sisters and their respective offspring. Dallas listened patiently until her mother wound down.
“Any luck with a job?” she asked finally.
There was a pause. “Well, you know that Jeb prefers I not work.” Lucille sounded as if she were sitting on a veranda sipping mint juleps and supervising the help.
But Dallas knew they didn’t have much money, and Jeb was making very little as a clerk in an auto-parts store. “Mom, I don’t think “
“Dallas, you’re not married, and you don’t know about these things. Most men’s egos can’t stand up to a woman bringing in money of her own. I tried that with your father, and you see what happened.”
Dallas wanted to scream, but even screaming wouldn’t change the way her mother looked at life. Deserted by one weak man when Dallas was sixteen, Lucille had promptly found another whose self-esteem fed on denying any to his wife. Dallas had moved away from Amarillo partly to free herself from her stepfather’s dictatorial ways. But ten years had passed, and Dallas foolishly had dreamed that she could influence her mother to lead a more productive existence than catering to the whims of a middle-aged man.
Apparently that wouldn’t happen. Dallas took a deep breath. “If men are all that sensitive, then I’d rather not have one around.”
Her mother’s chuckle lacked humor. “You may not have to worry. You plum scare men off, Dallas. I’ve told you that before.”
“Maybe I just scare off the wrong ones. Maybe the right one wouldn’t be scared at all.”
“If there is such a man, her mother said. “you’re such an idealist.”
Dallas gripped the phone. “I’ll tell you this. I’d rather live alone all my life than be tied to someone who tells me what to do .”
“They all try, honey.” Her mother’s sigh, heavy with resignation, drifted across the telephone line “They all try.”
THE tension built between Gabe and Dallas each night at Rowdy Ranch. Dallas suspected that without Neal in the picture, they might have acted on their obvious attraction to each other. But Gabe’s hostility toward Neal stood between them.
During the day Dallas distracted herself with the routine she loved-taking long horseback rides into the Tucson Mountain foothills, making improvements to her property and having an occasional lunch and shopping trip with Amber.
The weather continued unseasonably warm for February , which brought more than the usual flock of winter visitors to Tucson. Cadillacs and Lincolns with out-of-state plates clogged the roads as Dallas drove into town one sunny morning to pick up dog food.
The influx of tourists would bring more business to Rowdy Ranch, she reasoned. The idea cheered her and she began singing along with Alan Jackson’s “Chattahoochee on the radio. She swung into the parking lot of the pet store to pick up the special brand of dog food she fed Gretchen. She’d be glad when Gretchen wasxi t in season anymore. Usually she brought the Great Dane along on shopping trips and left her guarding the truck. But Gretchen couldn’t socialize again until she stopped panting after every male dog within a square-mile radius
Inside the pet store she wasted no time. She still had a list of projects for the day, including putting another coat of paint on the tack shed. She’d just hefted a twenty-pound bag of chow into her cart when Neal Parnell sauntered down the aisle, grinning at her.