Rock Star Kisses (Romance on the Ranch Book 6) (5 page)

Tessa spent the next two weeks doing her best to
avoid Sean. As often as she dared, she came home late with the excuse that she
was helping out at work, which was the truth. Her extra time there wasn't
necessary, but it was appreciated. So far, it seemed that no one but Toby knew
Sean was working for her father.

Preston returned two days before the Fourth of
July Festival and surprised her by coming through the back door and sneaking up
behind her. Placing his hands over her eyes, he bent to whisper in her ear,
"Guess who?"

She twirled around. "Preston! We didn't expect
you back for another week!"

He grinned. "Did you miss me?"

She joked, "We've all been pining away
since you left."

"I highly doubt my brother was pining away.
But if you and Midge were–"

A squeal interrupted their conversation and
Midge ran over to give Preston a big hug. "We missed you!"

Preston laughed loudly. "So I've
heard."

Just then Sally who worked at Boot Bustin' Barn
entered carrying her cocker spaniel. She wailed, "Something's wrong with
Rambler!"

All conversation ceased as everyone went into
emergency mode. An x-ray revealed that Rambler had a bur stuck in his throat
and Preston donned his scrubs to remove it. Tessa, Sally, and the staff sighed with
relief when the old dog tolerated the minor surgery and anesthesia well.

The Fourth of July dawned with blue skies and a
few puffy clouds. Tessa got to the park around nine to set-up the display for
the vet booth and lay out brochures. She loved the fact that she was once again
a part of her community. She'd even designed a poster board with pictures of
many of the animals and their owners that she'd snapped over the past few
months. Both Toby and Preston had praised her efforts and it made her feel really
good.

A day after his arrival home, Preston had asked
her to dinner, but she'd declined again. He hadn't taken offence, just smiled
and said, "When you're ready I'm going to treat you to the most fabulous steak
dinner you've ever eaten."

A blush had suffused her face and she'd dropped
the folder she was holding. Preston liked her…a lot. She'd known it since she
was a teenager, but she'd never had those kinds of feelings for him. He and
Toby were close friends, that's all. Besides, she couldn't fathom what Preston
saw in her. He was so tall and handsome and she often overheard conversations
by young women at the coffee shop about how they wished they could get his
attention, and even once, one of the gals had giggled and said how much she wanted
to go to bed with him.

"Hi, Tessa," Preston said as he
approached their booth. She gulped and turned all shades of pink knowing where
her thoughts had been.

"Ah, hi Preston."

"Do you need help with anything?"

"Nope. I've got it covered. I should have
everything laid out in a few minutes."

"How about I bring you a cup of
coffee?"

She lifted her cup with the Dixie's Cuppa Joe
label that she'd set on another table. "Already got it, but thanks."

He looked like he wanted to say something else,
but changed his mind and dipped his Stetson before crossing the grass to help Tawnie
Trueblood set up a folding table under her canopy. The pretty cowgirl, who held
numerous beauty titles from her teens and twenties, had started a business a few
years back that taught girls how to break into that scene. She mentored them in
poise, etiquette, appropriate clothing for whatever event they were entering,
and also offered diet and exercise classes. Tessa remembered when Tawnie had
been the reigning queen of one of the town's parades and asked Tessa's dad to
ride on the float with her. Even though he'd had a cast on his leg, he'd agreed
because she was a good friend. That had been the summer he'd hired Monica as
domestic help until his leg healed. What a trippy summer that had been.

Tessa grinned when she thought back to that
time. More than once, she'd seen her dad grind his jaws at Monica's prissy, New
Yorker attitude. But then things had changed and her dad, who hadn't dated or even
looked at another woman since Tessa's mother's death, was suddenly falling all
over himself for Monica. And it went both ways. They couldn't be in the same
room without going mushy eyed for each other. Then they'd hit a rough patch,
but things had finally worked out much to Tessa's relief. She'd loved Monica from
the start and when her new sitter had stood up to Jared in the grocery store after
he'd called her Tubby Tessa, she'd been astonished. Monica had even made him
apologize to her.

But then, being an idiot, she'd run off with the
jerk a year out of high school and married him. Reflecting on that time put a
pall on what had started out to be a happy day. It didn't help knowing she
might run into Jared's parents today. They lived on a ranch outside of town,
and although they were always polite, she knew they harbored resentment toward
her. His mother had once chastised her for "being so fragile." She'd
said that a man had so many frustrations in his life that a little pushing was
just a normal way to release tension. Tessa had been appalled and responded,
"No. Not pushing. Not shoving. Not slapping. Not punching, Not–"
She'd stifled the word "raping," and finished with, "None of
that is
ever
justified!"

Jared's mother had glared at her and said hotly,
"He didn't deserve bein' in jail for two months."

Calmly, Tessa had replied, "No. He didn't.
He deserved much longer."

A resonant voice said, "A penny for your
thoughts."

Tessa jerked her head upright from staring at
nothing on the table to staring into Sean's gorgeous baby blues. Although he
was smiling at her, his eyes were serious. She had expected him to be dressed
in one of the disguises he'd described, but he was recognizable in a baseball
cap and dark glasses. Although not as tall and buff as Toby and Preston—maybe
six feet, or close to it—his body was fit and lean. He was the kind of man who
could wear anything and look good. At the moment, his clothing was jeans and a
T-shirt with a twisting trout on the front. He'd cut his hair right after
starting to work for her dad and the cropped and gelled style set off the
angles of his face.

She gave a lame response. "I'm just wondering
where to put these flyers."

He nodded, but didn't look like he believed her.

She said, "Oh, I need to tell you that we still
haven't received a call from an owner about Lucky, but that guy who called and came
by a couple of days ago to check him out, called again this morning and offered
him a home if he isn't claimed. He said he'd stop by the booth at one o'clock to
meet you."

"Does he seem okay to you?"

"Yes. But it's difficult to know those
things. We get some of the nicest people coming into the office, but then when
their animal is examined, we find out it's been abused. We always report it to
the authorities for investigation. You'll probably want to go to his ranch and
check out his animals."

Sean said, "I'll return at one to meet the
guy and we'll see what happens."

She changed the subject. "I thought you'd
be wearing one of your disguises. You know, don't you, that you're going to be
recognized?"

"Yeah, I know, but honestly, I hate
dressing as someone other than myself. I figured if Sage and your dad and Mr.
Brightman can handle the fire, so can I. They're pretty famous and I don't
remember them dressing in disguises." Sean's gaze moved to something or
someone behind Tessa and she saw him stiffen. "Hello, Preston," he
said.

Preston stepped next to Tessa. "Howdy,
Sean. I heard you were around. Saw the dog you hit."

Sean's jaw tightened.

Toby walked up. "Hey, Sean, did Tessa tell
you that we might have a home for Lucky?" He stopped beside his brother
and slapped him on the back.

Sean shifted his gaze to Toby. "Yes. I'll
be back at one to meet the guy."

Preston interjected, "Why? Don't you trust
our judgment?"

Turning a hard stare on Preston, he replied,
"Tessa's and Toby's, yes. Yours?" He shrugged.

The animosity between Sean and Preston was
rearing its ugly head yet again. They looked like they were about to come to
blows. Tessa looked at Toby to see his reaction. He was glancing back and forth
between his brother and Sean, and he looked pissed. He grabbed Preston's arm.
"I got something I need to show you." He tugged and Preston didn't
budge, so he tugged harder. Finally Preston followed him out of the booth.

Tessa watched them and then turned back to Sean.
"What was that all about?"

He shook his head. "You really don't know,
do you?" His gaze roamed her face before he turned to leave. Over his
shoulder he called, "I'll be back at one."

Preston allowed his brother to lead him away
from Tessa and their booth. Tessa and he had been friends since childhood, but
when he'd grown into his teens he'd gotten a crush on her that never went away.
She was adorable and sweet and he'd wanted so much more. When she'd eloped with
Jerky Jared he'd been devastated. But since her return, he'd gotten his hopes
up again that maybe they'd have a chance—if he could just get her to give him
the time of day; get to know him other than as a friend.

But Sean was back in the picture and Preston
knew he'd also had a hankerin' for Tessa over the years. He'd seen it by the
way Sean always got cross-eyed whenever she was around. Hell, he got cross-eyed,
too. Seeing Sean had pissed him off to the point he'd wanted to punch
something, or rather, someone—Sean. Hell, the guy was supposed to be some
famous rock star with women falling at his feet. Why the hell was he back in
Paxtonville. Preston already knew the answer—Tessa.

Toby was talking to him, but he couldn't
concentrate on his brother's words. "I'll see you later, Toby," he
said, and walked away. His brother called something but he ignored him. He walked
for a few minutes and then decided to head toward downtown. Abruptly he
stopped, inhaled a calming breath, turned around, and almost stepped on a
Pomeranian bundle of fur. The dog scooted out of his way, as did the other five
dogs walking with the Pomeranian.

"Hey, watch out! You almost flattened my
dog!"

Preston glanced from the pooch he'd almost
stepped on to a poodle, to a pug, to a dachshund, to a cocker spaniel, to a
Chihuahua, and finally to the tiny woman holding six leashes.

He knew for sure that the woman, or maybe she
was still a teenager, didn't own these animals because some of them were his
patients. He frowned at the uptight girl and knelt to pet Chica the Chihuahua.
"Hey, Chica, how are you doing? How's that paw?" He lifted her paw to
inspect it. Before leaving for France, he'd treated the dog for an infected cut.
She had healed nicely. He patted Chica's head and she happily danced in
circles.

Glancing back at the red head with a million
freckles, he read the question in her eyes and said, "I'm Dr. Preston
Tanner, the local vet."

She must have read the question in his own eyes,
because she said, "I'm the dog sitter." She didn't mention her name.

Preston stood and politely touched the brim of
his Stetson. She stared mutely at him. He asked, "Does the dog sitter have
a name?"

"Yes, but I'm not inclined to give it to
strangers."

Preston frowned. "I just told you I'm the
vet and some of these dogs are my patients." He pointed to the pug.
"That's Weston." He pointed to the dachshund. "That's Weaner."
He pointed to the Pomeranian. "And that's Pookie. And for your
information, teenage girls don't interest me."

The girl with attitude lifted her chin and
didn't flinch while returning his stare. "Looks like you're good with
names, but not ages. If I have to bring one of my babies to your office, I'll
introduce myself. As for being a teenager, I passed that phase seven years ago.
Now, please step out of the way. My sweeties need their exercise."

Preston couldn't believe the audacity of the
woman. His family had been pillars of the community since forever and he was
always treated with respect. Who the hell was this rude little mite of a girl? No,
woman. Hell, what did he care? He stepped aside to let her pass. His earlier
anger at Sean was replaced by incredulity at how he'd just been treated. She
flipped her orange hair and he noticed that she even had freckles covering her
neck. He'd never seen so many freckles.

 Victoria Amelia Genevieve Martinique, otherwise
known as Freckles to her friends, of whom there weren't many, had been eyeing
the broad back of the cowboy in front of her and thinking all kinds of rotten
names for his species. Just by his swagger and build, she'd known he was
handsome. She hated handsome cowboys. It was one of his kind that had gotten
her stuck in this Podunk town. He'd sweet talked her with, "Come on baby,
let's leave the big city behind and find our roots in Colorado. There's this
town called Paxtonville that my granny lived in. I used to visit her sometimes.
I'll never forget the festivals in the park. We'll start over and build a good
life."

Well, his good life had lasted exactly one month
and then he'd taken off with some pretty li'l filly—the words he'd once used to
describe Freckles—and now she was stuck because he'd cleaned out their bank
account.

So, when the cowboy walking in front of her had
suddenly stopped and turned around, almost stepping on Pookie, and he'd been
even more handsome than she'd imagined, she'd been even more pissed. Her ratty
ex-boyfriend had often commented on her quick temper and attributed it to her
red hair. Whatever the cause, it had flared and she'd been horribly rude to the
cowboy veterinarian. She didn't care. All cowboys were alike. "Sweet talk
'em and leave 'em," seemed to be their life's mission.

She sighed and returned her attention to walking
her "babies." In Anaheim she'd had a profitable business house-sitting
or pet watching, sometimes both at the same time, but now she had to start over
in this hick town just to make enough money to get back home. Home? Hell, she'd
never found a place that felt like home, but at least she could make a living
in Anaheim—and go to Disneyland now and again. Sometimes she'd just go and
pretend she was part of a big, happy family, or she was married to a guy who
treated her like a queen and they had a couple of kids.

Chica suddenly nipped at Weiner and she had to
stop and gently reprimand her charges.