Whistling Dixie

Dixie Belle Benson has changed one gilded cage for another, when she moves from her daddy’s cattle ranch in Texas to the small town of Bryson Corners, Oklahoma. Her brothers are twice as bad as her father, but Dixie isn’t about to let them stand in the way of what she wants. And what she wants more than anything is sexy cowboy Knox McCoy.

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Copyright ©2014 Paige Warren

Dixie Belle Benson had definitely had better ideas than this. A fist came straight toward her face, and she ducked at the last minute. All she’d wanted was an ice cold beer after rolling into Bryson Corners near midnight. It had sounded like a reasonable thing. Until that idiot with roaming hands had grabbed her ass and told her the worst pick-up line she’d ever heard. Still, she’d been polite when she’d refused him. It had been totally uncalled for when he called her a bitch and a tease. As if that wasn’t bad enough, the moron had apparently forgotten he had a girlfriend, who had chosen that exact moment to return from the restroom.

Dixie had been in her share of cat fights over the years, unbeknownst to her family, but this was insane. What had started as a simple fight between her and blondie had quickly turned into a bar brawl with half the patrons involved. Someone’s elbow nailed her in the ribs and she winced as she twisted out of the way. Damn! At this rate, the cops would be called, and then her brothers would know she’d arrived sooner than she’d prefer.

Blondie took advantage of her distracted state and backhanded her across the face. Her cheek throbbed and, before Dixie knew what she was doing, she’d reached out and grabbed a handful of blonde hair and jerked the woman off her feet. It would be petty to kick the cow while she was down, but it was tempting as hell.

A true fighter, the woman was right back on her feet and aiming for Dixie’s face with a closed fist. She felt the woman’s knuckles connect with her cheekbone and lost her balance. Before she could hit the floor, strong arms wrapped around her. Thinking the asshole who’d hit on her had her in his clutches,  she fought like a wild cat.

“Easy,” a deep voice soothed. “I’m not goin’ to hurt you.”

It didn’t sound like the same man, and she twisted her head to look up into startling blue eyes. Relaxing her body, she allowed him to carry her out of the fight and off to the side of the room. He set her down on a chair in a corner not far from the door. He’d just placed his cold bottle of beer against her cheek when the first uniformed officer strolled through the front door. Dixie tensed, not wanting her brother to find her like this. If she’d thought the woman had beat her ass, Carson would be ten times worse. Oh, he wouldn’t lay an actual hand on her, but he’d make her feel so bad about being in a fight that she’d feel two inches tall.

“Better?” the man asked.

Her gaze strayed from the officers streaming into the building to her rescuer. “Why did you save me?”

He gave her a crooked grin that got an instant response from her body. With his shaggy blond hair and blue eyes, he should be on a surf board somewhere, not wearing worn out jeans and dusty boots. Not that he didn’t fill out his clothes rather nicely, his tee hugging his biceps and broad chest. Her brothers were tall, but this man had to be around six-foot-six or so. She felt like a pixie sitting next to him.

“Couldn’t let a pretty little thing like you get hurt by that mean ass woman and her boy toy.” He removed the beer bottle from her face and winced. “Sorry I couldn’t reach you sooner.”

“You were watching me?”

His grin broadened. “Oh yeah, from the moment you stepped through the door. It’s not often an angel like you deigns to grace us mere mortals with her presence.”