Spurs 'n Surrender (Operation Cowboy Book 2)(6)

Garrett followed her inside. “Whooeee. Is this place air-conditioned?”

“Yes. Have a seat. I’ve got some lemonade in the fridge.” Turning to the small fridge surrounded by new metal cabinets painted aqua blue, she was far too aware that Wydell had entered behind Garrett. When she pivoted with three bottles of lemonade in hand, she caught his scowl.

“Nice place.” He grunted, sagging to keep his head from brushing the ceiling. When he slid into the coral leather booth seating and looked around, she inwardly cringed. Of course he wasn’t seeing all the fun components of her trailer that she’d loved choosing. The retro décor and the cute touches like built-in vases for wildflowers, if she had a mind to pick some.

A man like Wydell probably lived in a barn. She glanced down at his boots, thinking of him soiling her clean checkerboard floors.

“Here you go.” She passed each man an ice-cold lemonade and opened her own. While Garrett took his in one long gulp, she and Wydell sipped.

She had to get this meeting underway and the glaring man out of her personal space. “Okay, let’s begin. I’d like to know more about your vacation home idea.”

Wydell ran his tongue over his lower lip, swiping the lemonade off. The action made her belly knot again. Dammit, he was as sexy as sin, even with that primal strength that frightened her a little.

“Well,” he drawled, delighting her senses all over again, “Los Vista had a lot of tourists during the summers. People stayed at inns and motels, ate in town and bought souvenirs. I’d like to build the town back up so it’s a worthwhile destination again. A steady supply of disposable income from vacationers will do the town a world of good.”

While he talked, she noted the way his lips formed each syllable. “I totally agree.”

His eyebrows lifted as though he was surprised they might actually have a similar view on anything.

“And I’d like to support this plan of yours.”

He and Garrett eyed her. “You alone? Or your daddy?” Wydell’s question was sandpaper against her nerves.

Her tongue tied in a square knot. When he looked at her with that heavy, candid stare, her body noticed. Too much.

“Just me,” she managed.

“Ah.” Wydell’s single noise of understanding set her off again.

“Look, I have money to lay down here. Are you capable of organizing and supervising the building of these homes or do I need to bring someone in?”

“We can do it,” Garrett said with a smile that made her remember why she was charmed by Los Vista. The boyish tilt of his wide mouth was contagious. She found herself grinning back.

“Good. Then we’ll start with plans. I have an architect in Dallas who—”

“I can handle it,” Wydell cut across her. He stood so abruptly, she swore the trailer rocked. When he eased from the booth, she had to press herself flat to the wall of cabinets to get out of his way.

“Garrett, do you have some experience with plans?” she asked.

“A little, miss.”

“Anya. Please call me Anya.”

His grin stretched. “I’d like that.” Wydell crowded her so much that her spine dug into the cabinet. “I’ve got work to do. I’ll be by with some plans tonight. Garrett?”

His buddy took his time before following Wydell out of the trailer and back to the jobsite. She hung out the door to watch them go. Garrett threw her a wave, but Wydell never looked back. The man’s swagger was far too cocky for her liking.

She closed the door and breathed a sigh. Having a cool place to sort through her spinning mind was just what she needed. She grabbed her lemonade and took a few steps to the living area. Sinking to the aqua leather chair soothed her nerves a little.

Then she remembered the way Wydell’s jaw had jutted when he’d looked around her space.

Maybe peace wouldn’t come so easy.





Chapter Two


“She’s going to be fun to work with,” Garrett said as they wrapped up for the day.

Wydell wanted to groan. He’d bitten off several such noises during the afternoon. Garrett obviously found Blondie very interesting.

“I think she’s going to be a pain in the ass.”

“Really?”

“She’s a damn beauty queen. Can’t you see it?”

Garrett blinked at him.

“For Chrissakes, man, listen to her voice. She has that same cultured drawl as Miss Texas. You don’t get raised talking like that. You learn it. ”

“I wouldn’t know. I don’t watch pageants.”

“Neither do I. But if you listen to her a while, I bet you’ll hear her views on world peace.”

“Hell, I’d love to. Bet she can bring all kinds of peace with curves like that.” Garrett ran a hand down his abs.

Wydell felt his irritation spread like an infection. For a few heartbeats back when Anya and Garrett had shared a smile, Wydell had felt violence rise up inside. The kind that knocked out men’s pearly white teeth. Guess that wasn’t healthy—he needed to keep that in check.

“She’s not into your type.” Wydell tossed a rope on the seat of his truck.

“How the hell do you know?”

“Come on. She’s got more money in her truck and trailer than either of us have ever seen. She probably sleeps on silk sheets.”