Spurs 'n Surrender (Operation Cowboy Book 2)(7)

“Who wouldn’t like that? All soft and slippery.” Garrett stared at the silver Twinkie glinting in the late afternoon sun.

Wydell elbowed him in the ribs and went to find his crowbar, though not to inflict any damage on his friend. He’d remembered that he’d dropped it when Anya approached them.

When he looked at the lot they’d mostly cleared today, he didn’t see someone’s loss. He saw potential. Good ground with the water and sewage lines still intact. If Anya was really willing to fund this project, he was prepared to do anything to make it happen. Even work with a clueless, uppity beauty queen.

“Are you headed to the ranch?” Garrett asked.

“Yeah, for a bit. I’m going to get cleaned up then meet Anya.”

“Maybe I’ll tag along. I don’t have any ideas about vacation homes, but I’m good for some conversation.”

The growl was back in Wydell’s throat. “I got it handled,” he rumbled. “Why don’t you go on over to the other ranch and see if the Popes needs help with their horses?”

“I’ll do that. They always needs help.” Garrett sauntered toward his own dilapidated truck. Beside Anya’s, their vehicles looked destined for the junkyard. “Catch ya tomorrow, Corporal.” He gave a lazy salute that would have had him sweeping sunshine off the sidewalks back in boot camp.

Wydell gave him a grin and the middle finger. Half an hour later he was squeaky clean and driving back into town with several rolls of paper on the seat beside him. He’d labored for weeks over some of these plans, but he had a feeling Anya would approve. She probably had a couple vacation homes of her own.

When he knocked on the door of the Airstream, his chest got a funny, tight feeling. He cleared his throat twice before the door opened.

The wind was punched from him as he set eyes on Anya’s honey-blonde hair swinging loose around her golden-tanned shoulders. Wearing a glitteringtank top and jeans encrusted with rhinestones on the edges of the pockets, she looked as out of place in Los Vista as an opera singer at a rodeo.

She gave him a weary look and stepped back to allow him in. As he squeezed his shoulders through the narrow door, turning sideways to do so, she asked, “Where’s your sidekick?”

“Had work to do.”

The inside of her little trailer smelled like homemade cookies. “You baking?” He glanced toward the kitchen that could only produce miniature cookies for a family of elves. There was a child-size range with two burners and an oven that couldn’t possibly fit a cookie sheet.

“Baking? Oh no. It’s a scented candle.” She pointed to a small table where a flame danced over a puddle of melted wax. They stared at each other. She looked as uncomfortable as he felt.

But still, sexy as hell. That blonde hair was doing things to his libido that he couldn’t promise not to act on. In his imagination he forked his fingers through the silky strands and let them fall around her bare breasts as he sucked and licked and lapped and—

He stomped on the fantasy and leaned over to dump his armload of plans on the kitchen table where they’d sat earlier today.

“What are all those?” Her words came out a little hesitant, as though she’d forgotten how to speak.

“House plans. I figured I’d show you what I have in mind and we’ll talk costs and how this is going to work between us.”

“I’m willing to invest quite a bit to get this project afloat. Let’s see what you’ve got.” The interest in her expression gave him a little thrill low in his spine. Together they turned for the booth, but he was too big and the space too cramped. They ended up tangled, his thigh crushing her against the tabletop.

When she tipped her head all the way back, he flexed his fingers into fists to keep from living his fantasy of touching her hair. Last thing he needed was to know it felt as good as it looked.

Her gaze skittered away. “Please have a seat.”

Getting into the constricting booth wasn’t his idea of fun, but he didn’t have a choice. He scooted onto the coral leather while she slid across from him. His cock bulged against his fly, thinking of the flashy rhinestones encrusting her back pockets and accentuating her full ass.

Good padding to take a pounding from behind. And her legs were perfect to sling over his shoulders.

Jesus, what am I thinking?

He cleared his throat. She fiddled with a lock of her hair, drawing attention to the rings she wore.

Rich girl rings—real gemstones and white gold. Way out of his league, for sure.

He unrolled one of the plans and pinned it to the surface with his hands.

She blinked. “Whoa. What is that?”

He shot her a look. “A twenty-five hundred square foot ranch house with an open layout in the living areas.”

She pointed at the multiple eaves on the front elevation. “It looks huge.”

“Not as large as I expect people like yourself live in. But it’s a good size for a vacationer.”

“No, no. This is all wrong.”

He gaped at her. “I’ve got other plans.”

“No, I don’t mean this particular plan. I mean you’re thinking about building large homes.”

“Well, it’s Texas, sweetheart. We like things big.” Including curves. He skated his gaze over her honeyed hair to her round breasts. Funny how he could picture her in a flowing pageant gown as easily as in the nude, rolling in his sheets.