One Southern Cowboy - Jennifer Youngblood Page 0,27

registered on his face because it prompted Lemon to ask, “Is everything okay?”

Before he could answer, Tillie flung open the door and got out. She was dressed in a short white dress that showcased her long, tanned legs. A former Miss Tennessee, Tillie was in-your-face gorgeous with her flawless makeup and long, glossy hair that stood higher on her scalp than the Empire State Building. Of course, it helped that she’d had everything known to man or woman done to her in the way of plastic surgery. Her boobs nearly spilled out of her dress as she leaned over to grab something. She pulled it out—a picnic basket. Crap! This wasn’t gonna end well.

“Hello, handsome,” Tillie chimed as a large, sunny smile spread over her ruby lips. Jaxson glanced at Lemon whose face had gone rawhide tight.

He forced a smile. “Hey, Tillie.”

Tillie traipsed up in her skyscraper heels, her sultry lips forming a pout. “Poor baby,” she purred. “I stopped into the gallery today to pick up my little Nolan Vant print.” Her eyes glimmered with triumph. “It’s the newest one in his collection—nearly impossible to get. Somehow, Zoe was able to secure several copies for her gallery, which she saved for her most valuable clients. I don’t know how she does it.”

Lemon’s short chuckle broke into the conversation, cutting Tillie off. “Zoe Romeo must have the inside track,” Lemon said in a syrupy voice that mimicked Tillie’s. “I don’t know how she does it.” She looked at Jaxson, her face hard with amusement. “Do you?” Lemon’s eyes were balls of ice, daggers shooting from them.

That Tillie didn’t realize that the famous photographer Nolan Vant was actually Jaxson’s younger brother Noah spoke to how superficial his relationship with her was. He could see how tacky this whole thing must look to Lemon.

Tillie gave Lemon a look that could kill before pasting on a happy smile. “Anyway, my point is, when I heard about your accident, I just had to come over and see how you’re doing. You look terrible,” she said, appalled, as if Jaxson’s situation was somehow his fault. “I’ll just give this to your nurse,” she said, thrusting the picnic basket at Lemon.

Before Jaxson could so much as utter a bleep of protest, Tillie pounced. Pushing him back against the handrail, she entangled her arms around his neck and laid a juicy kiss, square on his lips, pressing her body tightly against his. Her floral perfume plumed over him, tickling his throat as he coughed. At the same time he was trying to extricate himself from Tillie’s octopus hold, he heard a truck engine.

Jaxson’s eyes darted to Lemon’s. Her expression was furious. He looked back at the truck, his heart squeezing when Lucas stepped out.

“Hey, cuz,” he boomed, sporting a glib grin. “I came to see how you’re doing, but it looks like you’re in good hands.” He held up a finger. “Oh, and we need to talk about the feeder, see who you wanna get to fix it. The dang thing keeps shorting out.”

Lemon held up the basket. “I’ll just be a good little nurse and take this into the house.” Her voice dripped with venom, but Tillie was oblivious.

“Thank you, dear,” Tillie sniffed in a queenly manner, as if she’d just doled out an order to her lowly servant.

Lemon stomped up the steps, slamming the door behind her.

Tillie flinched, blinking her eyes a few times before turning to Jaxson. “You really should reconsider your choice of help. She’s a pill,” she harrumphed.

A snide smile moved over Lucas’s lips. “It seems that the rooster’s having trouble managing all of his hens.” He pointed to the door. “I’ll go in the house and smooth out the rough edges. Good to see ya, Tillie. Looking great as always,” he winked as he moved to go up the steps.

Jaxson caught hold of his shirt. “Not so fast.”

Lucas turned, a look of challenge in his eyes.

Jaxson didn’t want to do this here, not with an audience. He could tell from the glimmer of interest on Tillie’s face that whatever was said between him and Lucas would be broadcast through the Nashville grapevine faster than he could spit. But there wasn’t any other alternative. He spoke in a low tone. “Lemon has amnesia. She doesn’t remember who she is—who you and I are.”

“I know the drill,” Lucas said easily. “People talk.”

Jaxson’s eyes narrowed. “What people?”

Lucas pushed out a heavy sigh, like it was a huge imposition that he was having to explain