Tyler Read Free

clenched into tight fists, he silently dug deep for the grit to do as she asked.
    His gaze settled on the stage and suddenly everything clicked into place like the latch on the gate to the Circle G. The odd questions, the searching looks, waiting for his reaction to being touched suddenly made sense. For the kind of money she was offering, he’d bet every penny of it he would have to get up on that stage.
    Drawing in a deep breath he cursed silently, the air inside the bar smelled like fresh rain too. They weren’t hiring him to haul kegs; he was about to become their latest attraction! He lifted his hands and unbuttoned the top button. His fingers fumbled and beads of sweat formed at his temples. Better get used to it. Hell, there’d be no getting used to it.
    The raptor-like gaze of the three women unnerved him, but hell, for the salary Jolene was promising him, he’d sell his soul to the devil if it’d save Grandpa’s legacy… their ranch. Her amber gaze collided with his, and he wondered if his soul was already lost.
    As the last button slid free, he couldn’t bring himself to shrug out of the shirt. He felt so exposed standing there while the women in front of him watched him as if he was a prime cut of beef on today’s blue plate special. It sure as hell wasn’t the same as stripping down for one woman at a time.
    Jolene’s gaze met his. “Thirty dollars an hour, plus tips, Tyler.”
    Damn . His Celtic pride kicked in and their ancient family motto filled him: Aut Vincam, Aut Periam: I will either conquer or perish! He lifted one shoulder and let the shirt slide off. The collective gasp had him wondering if it was the thick ridge of scar tissue running along the line of his lower ribs or something else.
    Then damn if the blonde didn’t lick her lips like she was a cat and he was a bowl of fresh cream. “You’d better see if he passes the last test,” she said with a glance at the bar. “Heck, even if he doesn’t, I’d snap him up, Jolene.”
    The blonde walked around the bar to a door in the back, opened it, and yelled, “Gwen!”
    A muffled reply sounded from below them. Just how many females worked at this bar?
    “Are you ready for the last test?” Jolene asked.
    Tyler’s gut told him to pick up his shirt and hightail it over to one of the fast food joints. They only paid one-third of Jolene’s offer, but at least he knew he could handle flipping burgers and the deep fryer. Well… maybe not the fryer, but he’d flipped burgers plenty of times for his brothers.
    Indecision caught him off guard; it wasn’t part of his makeup. He’d never been in this kind of tight spot before, but Dylan and Jesse were counting on him and he wasn’t a coward. It wasn’t in the Garahan blood. Three generations of Texas Garahans had faced Indian attacks, droughts, more than one deluge, and a handful of range wars. He would stick it out… no matter what she wanted.
    A six-foot tall blonde appeared in the doorway and sauntered toward him.
    Jolene smiled. “Gwen,” she said slowly. “I’d like you to meet Tyler.” Turning toward Tyler, Jolene smiled and nodded to the blonde giant. With a sly smile, she purred, “Pick her up.”
    A thousand questions raced through Tyler’s head, but not one of them had included picking up the Amazon standing in front of him. “Now?”
    Everyone but Gwen nodded.
    He sighed and moved to scoop her up off her feet, but the woman backed away from him, hands raised up to stop him. “Not like that.”
    He stepped back and rubbed his now damp palms on his jean-clad legs . Were they making fun of him?
    “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
    Jolene’s laugh was as light as the afternoon breeze off the pond at the Circle G. “If you just stand still, Tyler, Gwen knows what I mean.”
    With a gleam in her eye, Gwen took a giant step forward and jumped. She reached for his neck with open arms and wrapped her legs around his waist, clinging like a burr to a horse’s hide.
    He had