Spurs 'n Surrender (Operation Cowboy Book 2)(17)

She leaned over and inhaled the fragrance of the wildflowers in her vase. They were beginning to wilt and a few petals had dropped. She swept them into her hand and tossed them in the wastebasket.

The decision to come to a town where there was absolutely nothing to do—besides look at sexy men doing manual labor—had been a poor one. She was bored. Sure, she had her own internet service and could watch thousands of movies or crush some digital candy until she had carpal tunnel. But no, she wanted to lie in bed beside a certain cowboy Marine and let him do bad things to her.

Under her tank top, her flesh felt hot and sticky despite the air conditioning. Her nipples ached for a touch she wouldn’t—shouldn’t—ever have again.

Why not? Her libido had a mind of its own, but she chose to ignore it.

She went to the window and twitched the checkered curtain aside. Wydell’s and Garrett’s trucks were parked down the road as two small figures worked to remove the rubble that had once been a home.

Letting the curtain fall back into place, she threw herself into the chair. Watching the insufferable man wouldn’t help calm her raging hormones. No, she was throbbing for more.

Her gaze fell over the plan he’d hand-drawn for the first tiny home. The prospect of building it excited her almost as much as his hands on her body.

Stop.

She dragged the plan closer and looked at the details he’d added. Storage and enough counter space so the owner wouldn’t feel deprived. She’d done something similar when re-designing her Airstream. She had enough room to prepare a Thanksgiving dinner if she wanted.

Maybe that was exactly what she should do—cook a huge dinner for some of the kind townspeople. The Kents and Mrs. Fletcher. And if Wydell happened to come by, well, I won’t turn him away.

She shook herself and got up to rummage through her few cupboards and the refrigerator. She didn’t have enough food to throw such a party, so she set about making a list. The next town wasn’t very far away, so she’d unhitch the truck and drive in.

While she was at it, she’d better ask Wydell if he needed any supplies. She couldn’t pick up I-beams or a pallet of lumber, but she could get small stuff.

Like condoms.

The thought gave her pause. What was the harm in sleeping with him, really? Sure, they didn’t get along, but their bodies got on just fine. Maybe this could be an frenemies-with-benefits thing.

A giggle bubbled from her. If her granny could hear her now, she’d climb out of her grave and slap her silly.

There was no harm in asking him if he needed something from town, though. With her list in hand, she grabbed her purse and left the trailer. She could have walked the distance to where Wydell was working, but somehow three tons of steel between the two of them seemed best. She drove to the site.

He glanced up, his face blanking.

Her heart did a painful crunch as if it’d been thrown under the tires. But she recovered and lifted her chin. “I’m heading into town. Do you need anything?”

She hadn’t come to ask Garrett, but that was rude, so she included him. A crooked smile tugged at his lips, and he swiped it off his face with a gloved hand. “Not for me, Miss Anya.”

Wydell threw the object he was holding—some twisted chunk of metal—and hit the dumpster squarely. She flinched at the crash and started to roll her window up.

“Wait.” He climbed out of the wreckage and came toward her truck, all rolling muscles and animal sex appeal. Her nipples hardened and a deep flutter found a home in her belly.

She rolled down her window again and waited. Fighting to control her rapid breathing. She wouldn’t let him see how he affected her, but damn if the look on his face didn’t say he already knew.

His eyes hooded and he leaned one dusty forearm on the edge of her door. Leaning in, he brought a whiff of hardworking male with him—clean sweat and that essence of Wydell that she could practically still taste.

“You got a pen and paper?” he asked.

“Um, sure.” She rummaged in her console and handed them both.

He scribbled something and passed them back. “There’s a nice hotel in town. Nothing luxurious, but I’m sure you’ll be comfortable there.”

She blinked at him. “What?”

“You’re going there to stay, right?”

Irritation rolled through her. “No, I’m going after supplies. It’s why I asked if you needed anything. Why would I drive into town to stay at a hotel after asking if you need me to pick anything up for you?”

He didn’t push away from the door but his brow lowered like a storm cloud. Probably similar to the one that wiped out this town.

“I figured you’d be fed up with sitting around doing nothing. A woman like you probably needs a social life.”

“Ugh. I don’t know what you imagine my life to be, but you’re very wrong, Wydell. Now do you need me to pick up anything for the house or not?”

“No.” Why did his voice sound so strangled?

“Fine.” She raised her voice. “Garrett, you sure I can’t bring you back a six-pack for after all this thirsty work?”

He looked up, smiling from beneath the brim of his hat. “Sure, Anya. That’d be mighty nice of you.”

She threw him a wave and started rolling up her window despite Wydell’s thick arm resting on it. He moved back, looking stormier than he had even a minute ago. Without a word, she put the truck in drive and did a wide U-turn to set her on the road back out of Los Vista.