Fit To Be Tied: Fit To Be Tied / The Lyon's Den. Carol Finch

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Fit To Be Tied: Fit To Be Tied / The Lyon's Den - Carol  Finch

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baseball star whose idea of a road trip included notching his bedpost with different women from different cities. It was only by accident that Jessica discovered Rex’s womanizing tendencies and promptly canceled their engagement. Humiliated, outraged, Jessica had packed up her animals and moved to the country. Unfortunately, Rex the ex had the last laugh when he billed charges to her credit card.

      First thing in the morning, Jessica intended to cancel her MasterCard and contact American Express. She was not paying for Rex’s getaways again.

      Jessica inhaled a breath of fresh country air, exhaled slowly and told herself to get a grip. Rex was history. She’d played the naive fool once, but never again. She vowed to avoid those macho, chauvinistic jock types—like her disagreeable neighbor. Just because she found Devlin Callahan physically appealing, what with his shock of raven hair, midnight-black eyes, broad shoulders, rock-hard muscles and horseman’s thighs, didn’t mean she was the slightest bit interested in getting involved with him. Besides, she needed to channel her time and energy into making a success of her business venture, refurbishing the house and providing care for her animals.

      Jessica had known the moment she laid eyes on this forty-acre plot, with its rolling hills and thick groves of cottonwoods, elms and redbud trees, that she had finally found a place that felt like home. She had spent most of her life leaving behind what took forever to become comfortable and familiar. But she had known instinctively that she could happily put down roots here.

      A sense of peace stole over her as she strode from one pen to the next, greeting and feeding her many charges. The brown bear she called Teddy performed his swaying ritual, then hobbled forward on his gimpy leg to devour the food Jessica placed in his pen. Each animal had its own way of greeting her, its special traits, that made her feel as if she was visiting with a dear friend.

      Thoughts of her fussy client, Edgar Stokes, her aggravating neighbor and her traitorous ex skittered off in the evening breeze. Ah, yes, country life was the life for her. These maimed animals depended on her. Like Jessica, they were outcasts that didn’t quite fit into society. That was okay, Jessica consoled herself. She had accepted the fact that she was an outsider, a misfit. But she and her unusual pets had settled into these wide-open spaces, and life was good.

      Mother Goose honked, jolting Jessica from her pensive musings. “Not to worry, Mother, I haven’t forgotten about you.”

      With the plump white goose waddling at her heels, Jessica ambled into the barn to scatter grain for her feathered friend. By the time Jessica returned to the house to pop a frozen dinner into the microwave her mood had brightened considerably. She wondered if her grouchy neighbor’s mood had eased after their heated encounter. Not that she cared if he left mad and stayed that way. All she cared was that he left and never came back.

      Fact was that Devlin Callahan’s appearance triggered bitter memories of the time when she had fallen for a handsome face and muscled body. She wouldn’t make that mistake twice. Until she met a man who was willing to give as much as he took, someone who wasn’t interested in the tidy sum of money she’d made when she sold her property on the outskirts of Tulsa, she planned to avoid men, especially the ones who looked as if they stepped off a poster for Tall, Dark and Handsome. No, sirree, she wasn’t going to fall for some hunk of a cowboy who had the disposition of a wounded rhinoceros.

      Lord, she still couldn’t believe that idiotic man tried to blame his problem with his flighty cattle on her, expected her to pay for his time and expenses. What unmitigated gall he had!

      Refusing to give Devil Devlin another thought, Jessica shoved her frozen dinner in the microwave, then pivoted to pour herself a tall glass of iced tea.

      DERRICK CALLAHAN slopped three hamburger patties, swimming in cream soup, on his plate, then glanced over his shoulder when he heard the footsteps that heralded his brother’s arrival. “’Bout time. I decided not to wait any longer. I have a date tonight and I have no intention of showing up late just because you can’t get your sorry butt back here on time.”

      “Date? In the middle of the week?” Devlin inquired as he plucked up his plate for the buffet-style meal sitting on the counter.

      “Yeah? So?” Derrick challenged. “What’s the matter with that? People do date on weekdays, you know.”

      “Only if they’re getting serious.” Devlin scooped up a large helping of fried okra, then moved on to the bowl of fried potatoes. “You and that new restaurant owner getting serious, are you?”

      “Maybe,” Derrick mumbled noncommittally, then pivoted toward the oblong oak table that sat in the middle of the spacious dining area. He used his free hand to scrape scattered mail out of his way, then plopped down on a chair. “So, how did your encounter go with the neighbor lady?”

      Devlin might not have been the sharpest knife in the drawer, but he knew a diversion tactic when he heard one. His brother didn’t want to discuss his feelings for Cassie Dixon, the vivacious brunette whose new café was the talk of the town. The fact that Derrick wanted to keep his relationship with Cassie a secret from his own brother, his only living relative, suggested that Derrick was already in over his head and sinking fast. Not that Devlin blamed his brother. Cassie Dixon had class, style and personality—unlike the female fruitcake with the attitude who lived down the road.

      “Well?” Derrick prompted.

      Devlin glanced up from his heaped plate. “Well, what?”

      “Did you convince our neighbor to relocate her zoo so it won’t disturb our livestock?”

      “No, she slammed the door in my face after lambasting me with insults,” Devlin grumbled as he grabbed his fork. “The woman has a chip the size of Mount Rushmore on her shoulder, and her brain is obviously solid rock. There’s no getting through to her, not without a jackhammer and dynamite.”

      Derrick rolled his eyes, then stared at his brother. “In other words, you used your standard, give-’em-hell approach and butted heads with her. I distinctly remember telling you to use diplomacy.”

      “Diplomacy wouldn’t have done any good,” Devlin said.

      Derrick shook his head and sighed audibly. “It is totally beyond me why you didn’t use your lady-killer smile and charm on her. There isn’t an eligible female in Buzzard County who can resist you when you turn on the charm. You shouldn’t have gone over to the neighbor’s house while you were hot under the collar. I tried to tell you to wait until you’d cooled off. But no, you climbed off your horse after roundup and blazed off. I know how you operate, Dev. When in doubt you start yelling, as if that ever solves problems. It almost never works with women. Next time, try being tactful.”

      The last thing he needed was a lecture from his brother, who had a history of leaving the difficult situations for Devlin to solve. Diplomacy? Hell!

      “There won’t be a next time,” Devlin muttered crankily. “If you think the charming, chivalrous approach will work—and I’ll bet money that it won’t—then you can march your candy butt over there and try to reason with her. After all, you’ve got the identical smile and more charm than I do.”

      Derrick threw up his hand like a traffic cop. “Me? No way. Just because we’re identical twins doesn’t mean I’m going over there after you screwed up. She’ll take one look at me and think I’m you. I’ll get nowhere.”

      “Well, she started it with her snide remarks,” Devlin said self-righteously. “But I’ll admit that it didn’t help when I accidentally smacked her right between the eyes when she abruptly opened the

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