The Maverick Meets His Match (Hearts of Wyoming Book 2)(36)

Mrs. Jenkins eyes widened and her mouth gaped into an O.

Mandy hoped she hadn’t blushed as she brushed past Mrs. Jenkins and out of the kitchen.





Chapter 8


Strapped into the plane’s passenger seat, Mandy forced herself to breathe as engines roared to life. It wasn’t just the thought of taking off in this slip of a plane that had her frozen where she sat, but the whole fiasco of the previous night.

What had surprised her was the tenderness Ty had shown. Holding her, whispering soothing words to calm her. She hadn’t been emotionally stable enough to be embarrassed—only comforted. So comforted she’d fallen asleep in those protective arms of his. The thought he might have held her all night against his hard body brought a flush of heat.

She glanced over at Ty. He was concentrating on the gauge-filled dashboard, his arm muscles flexing as he maneuvered levers. Capable, competent, commanding—those adjectives described the man to a T.

“Ready?” Ty’s smile was encouraging as the roar of the engines filled the air. When he smiled like that, broad, full, and opened mouth, the hard lines of his face softened, his eyes twinkled, and he looked almost boyish, like a kid with a new toy he wanted to show off.

She nodded and prayed she didn’t look as nervous as she felt. Her grandfather had dumped her fate into this man’s hands. She couldn’t look weak again. She’d cried last night, and now if she showed her anxiety about flying, how could she hope he would see her as tough enough to run Prescott? It was humiliating to be so beholden to one person’s opinion, and not just any person but the man who had broken her schoolgirl heart, manipulated her grandfather, and took the place, as head of the company, that rightfully belonged to her. And just happened to be her husband.

With a nod, Ty turned his attention to the dashboard and the blue sky beyond while Mandy closed her eyes, gripped the seat’s arms, and held on as the plane rumbled down the runway.

She silently counted.

When she reached twenty, the plane picked up speed, but no lift off. Twenty-five, the plane rumbled faster but still no lift off. She braced. Finally, at twenty-nine she felt the blip in her stomach as they left the ground. Teeth clenched, heart racing, she willed herself to relax, starting with her face, then her arms, then her hands…

“We’re up.” Ty’s tone held amusement.

Who was she fooling? Certainly not him. She opened one eye. Blue sky stretched out in front of her. She opened the other eye. They certainly were up. High. But the ride had become surprisingly smooth.

“Not so bad, right?” Ty seemed eager for her agreement.

“Not so bad,” she lied. But they had a few hours to go and a landing to get through. She couldn’t think about that or she might start panicking, and then what? Breathe.

“We don’t have to stay there.”

“Where?”

“At the ranch house. I haven’t given up my room at the hotel in town yet. We could stay there instead, if it’s too much for you. My Denver condo being on the market, that’s all I have to offer. But at least it’s not too far from the ranch.”

Ty had put his condo on the market? Guess he must have done that before learning he’d only be at Prescott for six months.

Still, what should she say to his offer? She didn’t want to stay at her grandfather’s. Last night had proven she wasn’t emotionally ready to do that. Yet admitting she couldn’t handle it would be admitting weakness. She’d dealt with living in her parents’ house without her father, hadn’t she? But then it had been a sanctuary where she and her mother and Tucker could grieve in private, away from her grandfather, who had been the model of stoicism in the wake of his only child’s death.

“It’s not too much for me. I can handle it.” She would handle it.

“It would be easier for me, if you wouldn’t mind. They have a workout room there.”

Ah, it wasn’t for her he was doing it, but for himself. Things made sense again.

“Well, if you’d prefer.”

“As long as it’s okay with you.”

“It’s okay with me.” A relief actually. “What about Mrs. Jenkins? She expects to be kept on.”

“Keep her on until we know what’s going to happen. The place still needs looking after.”

She nodded her agreement. It was settled then. She relaxed—well, as much as she could relax given she was thousands of feet in the air.

Chimes to the tune of Trace Adkins’s “Honky Tonk Badonkadonk” rang through the whirring din of the plane.

Ty cursed as he fished a cell phone out of an open compartment in the console.

“See who this is,” he said, holding the phone out to her.

Mandy touched the screen until she viewed the message. “It’s a text. From a Kendall? Asking why you haven’t called.” It ended with a <3, and the avatar showed the top half of a shapely and well-endowed blonde in a skimpy bikini. Mandy felt betrayed. But that was just silly. Foolish. But oddly true.

Intellectually, she knew this marriage was a sham with a husband she would have never chosen. Never. But that hadn’t stopped the rush of anger. Odd.

Ty mumbled a soft curse, barely audible over the engines. “Text her that I’m flying and will call her when I land.”

“Somehow I don’t like the idea of texting my husband’s girlfriend.” She wished it hadn’t come out so snarky, but there it was.