At First Sight. Tamara Sneed
forming a circle around them, just like kids in an elementary schoolyard. Graham deflected Earl’s powerful blows and landed a few of his own that at least slowed Earl down a little bit. The two men scrambled to their feet and Earl managed to land a few more punches. The crowd cheered in approval as one of Graham’s fists plowed into Earl’s nose and blood spewed in one direction. Earl stumbled several steps backwards, prompting a round of applause. For the first time since the fight began, Earl hesitated.
The sound of sirens suddenly rang in the air, and Graham caught a glimpse of the town’s two police cars speeding towards The Bar. Like cockroaches, people began to scatter. Graham held up his fists, prepared to continue, as Earl looked from the approaching police to Graham. Wyatt suddenly ran to Graham’s side, and Graham refused to acknowledge the relief he felt that he wouldn’t have to face the giant by himself again.
“Graham, what the hell is going on? I go to the bathroom and come out to find the bar empty…” Wyatt’s voice trailed off, as he followed Graham’s glare in the direction of Earl and cursed. “Your first fight in twenty years and you pick Earl McPhee?”
Earl abruptly ran towards a parked truck filled with a group of men who looked at each other with horror at the thought of giving Earl a ride. Graham didn’t lower his fists until Earl ordered the driver to drive and the truck sped down the road, away from the police cars. Graham released the breath he hadn’t known he was holding, then collapsed to his knees, drawing in the air that he had been deprived of during the last several seconds.
“Graham, my God, are you all right?” Quinn screeched, running to his side.
“He’ll live. It’s just a few scrapes,” Wyatt muttered, sounding suspiciously annoyed as he watched Quinn check Graham’s injuries.
“Scrapes, my ass. That man could have killed him,” Kendra chimed in, running to his other side.
Graham never thought it would have been possible, but he barely noticed the two women as he stared up at Charlie, who stood next to Wyatt. She sent him a small smile then walked towards the horse. And dammit if that wasn’t all Graham needed to see to make the whole thing worth it.
Chapter 7
“I don’t know about you all, but last night at The Bar confirmed two things for me,” Quinn announced the next morning, as she massaged sun block onto her shoulders then settled onto the lawn chair for optimal sun coverage of her bikini-clad body.
Charlie looked down from her perch on the ladder where she was attempting to repair the roof trim that had come loose. Charlie had become handy with a hammer from the constant small repairs that needed to be done around the African-American Art Center, despite the fact that the budget didn’t allow constant small repairs. But even Charlie had to admit that the repairs needed on this house went beyond her mediocre skills.
She had spent most of the morning scrubbing and disinfecting every inch of the house. She had gone through one whole bottle of disinfectant on her bathroom alone, but at least now she didn’t feel as though she had to put a toilet liner on the seat before sitting down or needed to take a shower with her bathing suit and flipflops on.
She grimaced as she almost hammered her thumb instead of the nailhead. After she dealt with the hammer, she still had ten cans of paint waiting on the porch for her. She was going to kill herself before this was all over.
“What was confirmed for you last night, Quinn? That you’re a bad dancer and that I’m a better dancer?” Kendra grunted from the front porch in midpush-up. Sweat gleamed off every taut and toned inch of her dark skin.
While Charlie had been cleaning, Kendra had been stretching, pulling, exercising and generally driving both Charlie and Quinn insane.
“You are not a better dancer than me, Kendra,” Quinn said, obviously insulted.
“If we’re having a contest over who can dance like a stripper, then you’re right, Quinn, you’d win hands-down. But, if we’re talking about real dancing, then you know I’d win hands-down,” Kendra shot back as she flipped onto her back to begin a dizzying assortment of sit-ups.
“What did you learn last night?” Charlie asked, interrupting Quinn’s retort to keep the fragile peace.
Quinn glared at Kendra one moment longer then looked at Charlie and said excitedly, “Graham Forbes is the most gorgeous man in this town, and I think we’ve seen them all, between the group that followed us when we went into town yesterday and the group at The Bar. I chose well, and I’m going to be very, very happy when I win our little contest. Did you see those muscles? There’s nothing like a man after a fight. All that testosterone and wounded male ego. Sephora and Niles, her third husband, had one of their best love scenes after his fight with his bitter rival, Milan.”
Charlie steadied herself on the ladder as her mouth became dry and her heart began to pound at the mention of Graham’s name. She had noticed Graham’s muscles. She had noticed everything about him. Just when she had written him off as another pretty face, as someone she would never deign to talk to even if he actually paid attention to her, he had stood up for her. No man, besides her grandfather, had ever defended her, and even then Grandpa Max had done it reluctantly.
Of course, afterwards, Graham had eagerly turned to Quinn’s and Kendra’s arms for their ministrations after the fight. Maybe Graham wasn’t the jerk she had thought he was, but he was still a normal red-blooded man. Unfortunately, that knowledge hadn’t stopped Charlie from dreaming about Graham for another night in a row. Vivid, erotic dreams that she usually only had after watching a Henry Simmons NYPD Blue episode.
Kendra paused mid sit-up to mutter, “I have to agree with you, Quinn.”
“That she’s going to win the bet?” Charlie asked, surprised, snapping from her daydreams.
“Of course not,” Kendra said, with a snort of disbelief. “I agree with her that Graham is the best product this town has. I’m going to have so much fun with him. All of that cowboy manliness and aggression…” Kendra visibly shivered in delight, then murmured with a grin, “I may even have to take him with me back to NewYork.”
Charlie pounded the next nail a little too hard and the sound echoed through the yard. Both of her sisters glanced at her.
“Are you all right, Charlie?” Quinn asked, concerned. “That ladder looks a little unsteady.”
“I’m fine,” she muttered.
“Charlie, you were outside when the fight between Graham and Andre the Giant started. What caused it?” Kendra asked curiously.
Charlie pretended to focus on the trim as she murmured, “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know—” Kendra’s question was cut off by the sound of a truck roaring down the driveway towards their house.
Charlie twisted on the ladder to see who the unexpected visitor was. Her palms became damp with sweat and her chest felt tight as she recognized Graham’s profile behind the steering wheel of the truck.
Quinn immediately positioned her body to the best advantage, while Kendra quickly dotted the sweat off her face with a towel. Even Charlie tried to smooth sweat-dampened clumps of hair back towards her ponytail. But, considering she had been working and sweating all day, there wasn’t much she could do in five seconds to make herself look presentable.
Graham parked the truck and stepped out. Charlie couldn’t help the sigh that escaped her lips. He wore his ubiquitous cowboy hat, jeans and another T-shirt. And his sexy smile. He was dangerous.
Quinn jumped to her feet as Kendra walked down the stairs. They reached him at the same time.
“Graham, your face,” Quinn gasped, as Kendra asked, “Does it hurt?”
Charlie swallowed the lump in her throat. He had a reddish-purple bruise on his right cheekbone and along his jaw, but otherwise he was no worse for the wear. In fact, his bruises hardened his almost too-perfect