Spurs 'n Surrender (Operation Cowboy Book 2)(36)

She brushed at her sleeve, which was embroidered with silver thread. The buttons were tiny rhinestones. In her ears she wore fat diamond studs, and the band of her hat was silver and rhinestones.

“Like what you see, cowboy?” she drawled in a fake voice.

He looked at her closer, but she spun to show off her behind. Her jeans pockets were encrusted with so many stones it would hurt to sit down. And her boots…

“Are those boots what I think they are?”

She twisted to face him and stretched her toe to show off the calf-hugging supreme leather that cost more than Wydell’s truck. “Why yes, they are. Do you like them?”

“What’s going on, Anya?”

“Whatever do you mean? A beauty queen has to look good at all times.”

Just as he thought. His words had driven her to this act, but he’d been teasing when he’d used them.

“This isn’t who you are.”

She laughed, a high, fluttering sound that chilled him. “Why, of course it is, silly. The sun must have gone to your head. You’d better have a drink. I have to get to the Kents’. Maybe we can talk about world peace while I’m there, and see if they need me to buy them anything.”

She started to turn away, but he caught her forearm, heedless of his dirty work glove’s damage to her silver embroidery. “What are you talking about, buy them anything?”

“Well, I have a fat bank account. That’s why I’m here, after all. To waste granddaddy’s money. Ta-ta!” She pulled away and sauntered off, each shiny object on her body a mini sun imprinting themselves on his retinas.

When his eyes cleared he found Garrett standing beside him. His friend opened his mouth to speak, and Wydell cut him off. “Don’t say a damn word.”

He snapped his mouth shut, which was a first. Nobody was more outspoken than Garrett, especially when there were easy wisecracks to be had.

Another hour of work and they had the debris cleared. They grabbed shovels and within minutes had the nails, glass and splinters removed from the space as well. Garrett leaned on his shovel handle and wiped a bead of sweat off his temple. “Feels good to be finished.”

“Yeah.” Wydell’s mind was still on Anya and her sudden change.

“Before we head to the housing project, I’m going up to Brodie’s and see if he needs any help. They’re loading cattle for auction today.”

“I’ll come along.” Wydell watched Anya’s truck trundle in their direction. He didn’t remove his stare from the expensive vehicle until she rolled to a stop beside them.

“Why didn’t you walk up?” he asked her. It wasn’t like she’d parked across town.

“Me, walk? One trip up here today plum wore me out.”

He tightened his lips. What was she playing at?

“Good job here. Looks great. Maybe I’ll put a building on it, make it into a high-end boutique.”

Wydell lowered his glare at her. “Anya—”

She turned her attention to Garrett. “What’s next today?”

“We’re going to Brodie’s to help load some cattle. Wanna come?”

“Sure! Cattle are smelly and dirty, but I suppose I can give you a ride. I’ll sit in the truck and keep my manicure clean. Hop in.”

Garrett jumped into the passenger seat, which left Wydell in the back, glaring and fighting growl after growl. She was taking this joke a bit too far.

All the way to Brodie’s place, she and Garrett discussed the Bells—how Brodie and Danica had worked their families’ ranches into profitable ventures again. The questions she asked him weren’t airheaded and shallow—her act was all for Wydell.

When they reached the ranch, Wydell hopped out. Anya stayed where she was until Garrett walked around her truck and opened the door for her. Shooting Wydell the side-eye, she purred, “Why thank you. My nails, you know.” She waggled her fingers, which were a bright red.

Huffing with frustration, Wydell went straight to the pen, where Brodie and Danica were having a heated discussion.

“You’re not loading cattle, Danica. It’s not safe in your condition.”

“This isn’t Victorian England, Brodie. A woman doesn’t go to her fainting couch for nine months while servants tend to her. I’m having a baby, and it’s early days. Heck, my grandma helped my grandpa build a house when she was eight months pregnant. For once I’m not puking my guts out. I want to do this.”

A feminine gasp from behind had Wydell turn to see Anya’s eyes gleaming with happiness. She’d just realized Danica was pregnant. Danica, hearing the noise too, smiled at her and waved. Then she lowered her brows at her husband. “I’m not finished with this conversation.”

“I am,” Brodie said, though not too loudly.

Danica came to Anya’s truck. She oohed and ahhed over Anya’s boots when she showed them off.

Brodie watched for a moment before saying, “What’s this all about?”

Wydell unclenched his jaw. “She’s proving a point.”

“Do I wanna know?”

“I wouldn’t tell you even if you did. Now let’s load some beef.”



*



Anya tried to keep her eyes off Wydell as he worked, but she was failing miserably. His back muscles rippled beneath his T-shirt and the way his jeans hung low on his hips…she shuddered. Watching him wrangle cattle was hotter than a California wildfire.