Spurs 'n Surrender (Operation Cowboy Book 2)(55)

Glancing down his hard body, her attention snagged on the bulge in the front of his jeans. She twitched her attention back to his face and his wide smile.

“I’ve been sporting wood ever since our last argument.”

Despite the heat of the day, she shivered at his words. “Maybe you’ll bend me over this here tailgate,” she said sweetly, sidling his direction.

He grabbed her before she could fully think about the beast she’d roused. In a blink he had her jeans around her knees and his cock buried deep.

Yeah, they were going to have a very interesting life.



*



The minute Wydell spotted the group of vehicles parked neatly around Anya’s silver Twinkie, he knew she had company. Film crews or newspaper people wouldn’t have taken the time to parallel park behind her trailer. The make and models told him there was money involved. These were her people.

Driving in front of him, she slowed her truck. He braked. She came to a dead stop a long distance from her temporary home.

That can’t be good. He put his truck in park and climbed out. Her driver’s window was down and her hair mussed from the breeze that had washed through her truck. What he wouldn’t have given to be riding with her, to see those golden locks floating free around her beautiful face.

He reached in and cupped her cheek. As if waking from a trance, she turned her focus to him.

“What is it?” he asked.

“My parents are here. And my financial advisor.”

He pivoted his head to stare in that direction. “What are they doing here?”

“No idea.”

“Well let’s go find out.”

She turned her cheek into his palm, closing her eyes for a brief second. When she directed her attention to the road again, she nodded. Took a deep breath. Hell, this couldn’t be good if she was rallying herself just to talk to them.

“Anya.”

She stared at him.

“I’m right behind you.”

She nodded again. He started back to his truck when an engine noise barreled at them from behind. Fuck, they were in the middle of the road. He opened his mouth to yell to Anya to drive, but the truck screeched to a halt next to Wydell.

It took only a second for him to see that Brodie was driving, his eyes wilder than he’d ever seen even in battle. Danica was beside him, her eyes red and her face wet with tears. She was covered in a blanket.

“What happened?” Wydell asked, feeling his adrenaline hit.

“Taking her to the hospital. It’s the baby.”

Fucking hell. It was way too soon for the baby. It couldn’t be good news. “Get there safe, you hear?” Brodie nodded. Reaching through the window, Wydell touched Danica’s shoulder. “It’s gonna be okay.”

A fresh sob broke from her, nearly cracking Wydell’s heart in two. She’d lost so much. First her brother, then her parents checking out mentally and emotionally for months following Matt’s death. She’d just found a bright ray of happiness with Brodie, and now…

He walked back to Anya, who hadn’t moved.

“What’s happening?” she asked.

“Danica might be losing the baby.”

She pasted her hand over her mouth, her eyes filled with grief for her friend. Wydell realized just how much of a part of them Anya had become.

“We can’t do anything for them right now. Why don’t we go down and talk to your people?”

“I should go to the Kents’ first. Let them know to send up some prayers,” she said.

It didn’t surprise him that she was thinking of other people rather than whatever potential crisis awaited her.

He removed her hand from her steering wheel and brushed his lips over her knuckles. “Hey, we’re in this together.”

A smile ghosted across her lips. “I know.”

They trundled into town like a funeral procession. Wydell couldn’t stop seeing Brodie’s haunted expression. After parking, he got out and threw Anya a look and jerked his thumb toward the Kents’, letting her know he was going to take care of things there.

She waved at him and slowly approached her Airstream. If there really were three people inside waiting for her, he wasn’t in any hurry to join them. Being confined with Anya was fine, but adding more people to the mix was out of the question.

The church construction project was progressing very well. The frame was up, and three workers hung off the roof, where they were fashioning the base of a steeple. Anya had spared no expense, but he knew she didn’t care about the money. Her passion was helping and seeing people happy again.

With a heavy heart, he broke the news to Pastor Kent and his wife. They joined hands and said a prayer right then and there for the young mother and child, as well as the man who was their rock, who’d supported them through the toughest of times.

When Wydell left the Kents’, his eyes were damp. He looked toward the park where Matt’s monument stood and had a quick word with the spirit of his friend to do what he could.

Then he went to the door of the Airstream and opened it.

It was just as he’d thought. Too many people inside, stuffed like sardines. He almost closed the door again, but Anya’s eyes appealed for him to come in.

Drawing in the last deep breath he’d probably take for a while, he mounted the steps and entered the cool space. Anya filled his hand with her small one, and they faced the three people seated in the booth.