Spurs 'n Surrender (Operation Cowboy Book 2)(25)

Hell, he was in for a long day.



*



“Damn, those boots are slaying me.”

Anya looked around. Had Wydell just said that? She looked at his profile but if he’d spoken, she couldn’t tell. His expression was a mask—far from the penetrating look he’d given her while coming last night.

She glanced down at her footwear, a practical pair of leather boots. Was he referring to them? Maybe she’d misheard, and he was talking about his own being too tight.

“What can I do to help?” she asked.

Wydell grunted without looking at her. He leaned over a pallet of two-by-fours. He shifted a few around but didn’t lift them, giving her the impression he was just avoiding her eyes.

“Before we start on the house, I think we’d better clear the air.”

A faint groan reached her on the morning breeze. Yeah, he was definitely irritated with her.

“I apologize for what I said It was poor manners on my part, but it just slipped out.”

“It’s fine.” He hefted a stack of wood into his arms like it was a bag of feathers. When he started walking away from her, she followed. Fishing her gloves from her back pocket, she tugged them on before taking the end of the lumber.

Feeling that some of the weight he was carrying lighten, he glanced over his shoulder at her. “What are you doing?”

“Helping. And no, I’m not going back to my trailer to have a tea party with the fairies. I’m going to help.”

He snorted. What a man of few words. Between his groans, grunts and wheezes, she had no idea what language he was actually accomplished at.

“What are you smirking about?” he snapped.

Add growl to the list.

“Not a thing,” she said sweetly. “Here’s Garrett.”

Wydell set his jaw at a stubborn angle. “Set the wood down here.”

She did, and together they turned as Garret climbed out of the truck. He wore a big, toothy grin. Why couldn’t Wydell be as amiable? He was a bear with its fur ruffled.

Hooking her thumbs in her pockets, she gave Garrett a nod and smile of greeting.

“I hope you’re bringing backup.” Wydell’s tone was surly.

Garrett arched a brow at Anya, and she widened her eyes as if to say, yes, he was in a mood. But if anyone should be in a mood, it was her. She’d let him into her bed twice now, and both times they’d agreed they’d made a big mistake. She felt like a fool for falling for him, but since she’d gotten more than her share of pleasure from the encounters, she was chalking the whole blissful situation up to life experience.

Besides, they still had to work together. No point in copping attitudes.

“The guys are on their way. I dropped by Brodie’s and had a coupla Danica’s breakfast biscuits. Damn, she can cook.” Garrett stroked his abs in a circle, and on each pass his T-shirt lifted, giving her a peek of tanned, chiseled muscle.

When she looked up, Wydell was glaring at her. “Good, we’ll start and they can help when they get here. Garrett, grab six more boards.”

She followed the friendlier of the two cowboy Marines, and Garrett complimented her on her boots. Glancing down, she said, “Thanks. I’ve had them for ages.”

“Do you have horses?”

“Yes.” She could say she also had a deluxe stable for them and a caretaker who exercised and fed them daily, but she refused to put more ammo in Wydell’s hands. He’d probably ask if they wore tiaras too. “So you help out with Brodie’s animals?”

“Yeah, his and Danica’s families had the only two ranches left. Both were struggling, but they combined efforts.”

“And they’re married?”

“Yep.” Garrett lifted the boards, and she grabbed the back end of the stack. Together they carried the wood to the place Wydell was laying the boards out in a configuration.

Just then another truck pulled in. Brodie and Danica climbed out. Anya remembered the twinge of jealousy she’d felt when she first saw her at the ground breaking ceremony, and how she got along so easily with Wydell and the others. But her charms didn’t seem to be limited to men. Danica came right to Anya to introduce herself, and within minutes they were joking like old friends.

The three men argued over Wydell’s plan and whether they could make the most of the lumber they had if they built the wall in another way.

She brushed her hands on the thighs of her jeans and tried to focus on what Danica was saying. Something about going antiquing in a county up north.

“I found the sweetest wooden chest about this big.” She held up her hands to show Anya. “Got a steal on it too, didn’t we, Brodie?”

The rugged cowboy grinned. “Sure did, beautiful.”

Danica gave Anya a conspiratorial wink. “He loves antiquing.”

Beyond the tall, athletic woman, Anya saw her husband roll his eyes. She stifled a laugh, but Garrett wasn’t so discreet. The man guffawed at his buddy, earning a cuff upside the head as reward. Which deteriorated into a shoving match.

Wydell stepped between them, a wall of annoyed, red-faced cowboy muscle. He looked from one to the other. “We ready to build this house or what?”

“Sure, Hard Ass. Take the lead, o’ Master Builder, and show us how it’s done,” Garrett said.