Spurs 'n Surrender (Operation Cowboy Book 2)(11)

He cleared his throat and pointed to the plan. Now that he looked more closely, he saw some things that could be improved upon, but he wasn’t about to tell Miss Know-It-All.

She leaned over the surface, her thick hair swinging forward. He revisited his fantasy of bundling all that hair in his fist and sinking into her soft body.

“Wow.” The word startled him from his musings.

“Wow?” His voice came out too gritty.

She looked at him closely. “You look tired, Wydell. Your eyes are bloodshot.”

Somehow touched by her voicing it, he said, “I don’t sleep well most nights.”

“Oh. That’s not good. I’d suggest some sleep aids, but you don’t look like the type of man to take a pill before bed.”

He tightened his lips. “No.”

She studied his face for another second. Damn, why did she have to look, sound and act so sweet? He knew it wouldn’t last. But it didn’t stop him from hungering for more.

Turning her attention to the plan again, she pointed at a few areas. “This is great. And I love this addition. A selling feature.”

“Yeah?” He leaned over her and the plan. The tabletop was far too inviting. Actually, it was the perfect height for bending her over.

“Yes, and this nook is a great idea.” Words gushed out as she discussed all the small details that were practical yet interesting. Nothing so stupid as a built-in vase, though. How did you even clean that out? He shot a look at the flowers, expecting to see drooping stems, but they were thriving.

“I absolutely think this plan will work.”

“I can make up some variations. I have other ideas.”

“No, no. This is great for our brand.”

He blinked at her.

“I mean, we can change up the interiors a bit, but the outsides should all look the same to attract our buyers.”

“The hamsters,” he said flatly.

“Hipsters. Let’s stick with this plan and I think we have our marketing tactic.” She gave him the full force of her blue stare. His chest compressed. Or maybe it felt too full. Either way, he was glad she wasn’t kicking him out this time. Maybe they could work together, after all.

The more Anya looked at Wydell, the more intrigued he became. “Were you trained as a draftsman?” she asked.

Confusion spread over him and then cleared. “No. Never set foot in a college.”

“These are good, though. How much do you think it will cost to build one?”

“About ten percent of the cost of a normal house.”

She fizzed with an inner excitement that rubbed off on him. Too bad he wanted to rub a lot of parts against her too.

“Hmm.” Her throaty humming noise sounded almost orgasmic.

“What do these kinds of houses usually go for?” he quickly asked. His question made her clasp her hands together.

“Let’s look at some online.” Her tablet was still on the table, and she wiped a grain of dirt off it before giving him a disgusted look. In a few swipes she had a real estate site open with a few price options.

“I think we can come in with something competitive.” He tapped the screen just as she did. Their fingers brushed, and she snatched her hand back.

“I agree.”

“Guess there’s a first for everything,” he said.

“What are you talking about?”

“Us agreeing.”

With a humph, she sank to the booth and pulled a paper tablet from a stack of books and magazines. A pen had been stuck in the spiral binding, and she brought it to her lips while staring at the screen. Such a thoughtful pose shouldn’t turn on a man so damn much, but seeing those full lips wrapped around the tip of that pen was giving him a severe case of blue balls.

He awkwardly slid into the seat across from her, fixated on her mouth. When she curled her tongue around the cylinder, he closed his eyes with a barely suppressed groan. Then she did something unexpected—she clicked the end against her teeth to raise the nib.

“You’re going to damage your enamel doing that.”

She gaped at him, her mouth open again. Automatically he reached across the table to close it, but she was too quick. She leaned away and shot him a dirty look. “My teeth are none of your concern. Now let’s put some numbers on paper.”

He wanted to lay her out on the first bed he saw. He glanced at the rear of her trailer to the sleeping nook the pillows all arranged neatly. What fun he’d have tossing them out and diving between her curvy thighs.

Something stabbed him in the forehead. The pen clicked, and he batted her hand away. “Stop that.”

“Pay attention.”

He rubbed the spot where she’d pressed the pen. It was slightly damp. From her tongue curling around it?

Damn, she shook all his screws loose. He couldn’t think straight around her. When she was silently scribbling, she looked so damn cute. Lips curved as she made a note along the top of the paper and then added a couple of sums to the growing list.

When she pushed the tablet toward him, he nodded. “Looks good to me.”

“You didn’t even look at it.”

“I can read upside down. I’ve been looking at it the whole time.”

She eyed him with severe mistrust, and he couldn’t help but laugh. The sound was strange, muffled in the silver Twinkie.