Spurs 'n Surrender (Operation Cowboy Book 2)(47)

He pushed out a sigh. “Every house we build doesn’t need to be the size of a postage stamp. People like variety. Probably even these hipsters, whatever they are. The next house is nearly completed, did you see? Garrett’s been busting his ass on it.”

“I was too busy looking at this one.”

“You have to admit that you had a better time when you weren’t bashing your head off a mirror or wedged against a wall.”

“Wydell, I wish we could just get along.”

“So do I.” It was probably better that they never could get it together enough to try a relationship. Walking away from sex with Anya would be hard enough. If emotions were involved, he couldn’t handle it. But who was he fooling? They already were.

He pushed off the floor and walked bare-assed into the other room to retrieve his clothes and boots. He heard her stirring and hurriedly put on his boots.

And then he went outside and kept on walking.

What he needed were wide open spaces and solitude. Garrett and Anya could carry on with the building project. They got along well enough and could make better decisions for the good of the town.

For now, Wydell was officially off the job.



*



“You’re going where?” Boyd asked for the second time. He watched Wydell toss a duffle into the back of his truck. The same bag he’d brought home after years away, filled with very few belongings. Now it was stuffed with even less—he had enough clothes, food and supplies to get him through about five days in the wilderness.

“I’m going up to the trails. I need some air.”

“Plenty of air here in Los Vista. Not very many using it, either.” Boyd leaned against the truck.

“Yeah? Then why don’t you add yourself to the population again?” said Wydell. “The town needs more people. What has you staying away?”

“My family’s in the next town. You know that.”

“You were never that close to them. Is it a woman?”

Boyd looked away, but not before Wydell saw the truth in his eyes. There was definitely someone keeping him away from Los Vista.

“Not someone so much as some place,” Boyd said.

Wydell didn’t have time to puzzle out that riddle. The need to skip town had him all knotted up inside. “Well I hope the someplace makes you happy. I’m beginning to think we were stupid to hang all our dreams on coming home.”

“I figured that out as soon as we saw it flattened. But it’s not over, Wydell. It’s just beginning. And you still have time to get the girl. She hasn’t pulled out yet.”

He shot his friend a glare. “That’s over.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He shut the truck door but unfortunately, he’d left his window down so Boyd could still yack at him.

“Does she know it’s over?”

Wydell raised a brow. “Does it matter? See you in a few days.”

“Hey, Hard Ass.”

Their eyes met.

“While you’re out camping, don’t forget to check your boots before you put them on.” Boyd gave him a grin. “Rattlers, remember?” He tipped his hat to Wydell.

Driving out of Los Vista shouldn’t have hurt as bad as it did. But when he left the tiny homes and lots he’d broken his back clearing behind, his chest felt too small to fit all his organs.

The area surrounding the town was still primitive. The wilds, some people called it when they came to backpack and hike. But Wydell had grown up running these trails and it had been too long since he’d been there.

The last time had been right after graduation. All five of them had spent a week camping before shipping off to boot camp. It was exactly the sort of thing that would bring Wydell back into balance. For years he’d lived rough in the desert, and a little rattlesnake wasn’t scarier than artillery fire.

He parked the truck at the base of the trail. His bag was fitted with straps he could sling onto his back. It weighed as much as Anya, and all of a sudden he wished it her sweet weight was back in his arms.

Making sure his truck was out of the way in case some dirt bike rider came this way, he set off. It didn’t even take a quarter mile before he was breathing easier.

Los Vista had begun to feel like one of Anya’s ridiculous homes—too small. He needed to let out some of his pent-up frustrations because he couldn’t take them out on Anya again.

Sure, she’d been on board with him fucking her all over the tiny house, but it hadn’t taken him long to figure out that he’d been wrong to do so. His animalistic side had scared him afterward, but he’d seen only tenderness in her eyes.

For a heart-throbbing moment, he stopped dead in his tracks. Should he turn around? She might be gone by the time he was done out here. He’d walked out on her without so much as a goodbye when all he’d wanted to do was cuddle her and talk the day away. He even wanted to argue with her about why he’d built the addition on the house.

He’d originally planned to show off his hard work in a much different way. Candles and champagne had come to mind—without the violent reaction to the cork pop, of course.

He swiped a hand over his sweaty face. Damn, he really was a mess, no good to any woman let alone a perfect one like Anya. She had money—he was living in his buddy’s barn. She was beautiful while he had a good share of burned, twisted skin on his arm. And she was whole but he couldn’t go more than a few hours without drifting off into harsh memories.