Spurs 'n Surrender (Operation Cowboy Book 2)(33)

“And you don’t think it’s her mom’s?”

“Anya’s an only child. I figure her grandmother passed and left her the ring.”

“Along with everything else,” Boyd said under his breath.

“What she has isn’t our business. She’s backing the vacation homes project and helping the Kents. And she’s as sweet as pie with Mrs. Fletcher.”

They all nodded. Anybody who was kind to the oldest living resident of Los Vista was a good one in their eyes.

“She doesn’t seem to like you kissing her, Hard Ass.”

Wydell glared at Boyd.

He spread his hands. “Just an observation after she stormed away from you.”

“You don’t know all the story.”

“Why don’t you fill us in?” Garrett said.

He shook his head. Hell, Wydell didn’t even understand what was going on. How could he be expected to share with his crew? “Let’s just play cards.”

Through several hands—that he all lost—and many topic changes, Wydell couldn’t shake his thoughts of Anya. He teased her about being a princess and a rich girl, but she really did have depths that he never would have believed if he hadn’t seen them for himself.

By the time the deal came to him, he raised a hand. “I’m going to bow out for the night, guys.”

“What? It’s early, Wydell,” Garrett said.

“I’ve been busting ass since dawn, and I’ve got another long day ahead of me. We’re finishing that lot first thing, Garrett. Then work on the tiny house.” At the term, Brodie snickered. Wydell shook his head too. “Damn, I don’t know how my dream of vacation homes got downsized to building dog houses, but I’m going to see it through. Maybe Anya’s right.”

“You hope she’s right,” Brodie said, standing and stretching. “I’m out too. I’ve got a nice warm body waiting for me. Don’t forget your winnings, Hard Ass.”

He scooped a bunch of nuts into his palm and dropped them into his breast pocket. “See ya’ll tomorrow.”

Not even bothering to pretend he was going to his cot in the back of the barn, he hopped in his truck and headed toward the center of town and the silver Twinkie glinting in the moonlight.

The moon played hide and seek with some clouds, which was too bad because he wanted her spread out with the silvery blue glow highlighting her sexy body.

After parking some distance away, he walked toward her trailer, feeling some of the old anxiety he felt doing night missions. Pulse pounding, his neck tight. The hair on his nape standing straight up.

He tried to shake it off as he approached her door. The urge to hunker down and sneak in filled him, and he didn’t realize how automatic his movements were until he made a hand motion as if he were gripping his weapon.

Stopping in his tracks, he stared at his surroundings. He didn’t see a barren town and the trailer of his lover. He was back in the deep night of Iraq, the hot air drying out his throat and his buddies around him, prepared to nail another sortie.

The pop of gunfire burst in his ears. He jolted.

“Wydell! You scared the crap out of me. What are you doing just standing there?” Anya’s voice shook him out of the past. When he blinked and focused on the vision in a white silky robe, he crash-landed back in the present.

Her face was taut with worry. He’d frightened her. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“You should be. I heard a truck and then footsteps, but not a peep or a hello. I’ve been lying in bed for ten minutes wondering if whoever was skulking around had intentions to slit my throat.”

Ten minutes? He’d been frozen there for ten minutes? Damn, maybe he really did need to talk to someone. That sound he’d heard hadn’t been gunfire but her trailer door slamming shut.

“Well, what did you want?” she asked. The quiver in her tone set him in motion.

Crossing the dew-wet grass, he noted the way her eyebrows furrowed and she had her arms wrapped around herself, as if trying to keep herself from trembling.

“C’mere.” He reached for her, and she tipped into his arms. As he felt her warm, soft body, all the scattered pieces of himself drew together. He held her tight, and she rested her head on his chest.

“Your heart is beating so fast.”

“It’s the memories,” Wydell said. “They get to me sometimes.” It was the closest he’d ever come to admitting he wasn’t a hundred percent all right.

She lifted her head and craned her neck to look into his eyes. “Oh Wydell, you’ve been through so much, haven’t you?” She ran her hand down his arm, over the twisted skin of his burn.

His throat worked as he saw so many emotions cross her face. He may not be able to put names to all of them, but each one made him want to get closer.

Seeming to sense this, she looped her arms around his neck. He stooped and caught her under the knees.

She stayed him with a flick of her tongue at his earlobe. “Not inside. Right here under the stars where you can stretch out.”

And I can see you under the moonlight, he thought.

Feeling less claustrophobic than he had in a long time, he sank to his knees with her still in his hold. They fell onto the damp grass, and she straddled him. When he felt the scalding heat of her pussy through his jeans, he groaned.