Her Bucking Bronc (8 page)

“We need to get to the supplier about the appliances.” He squeezed the cloth in one fist and told himself to be cool. People had sex every second of every day.

Too bad he couldn’t be as casual as he should be and he didn’t know why.

Her gaze was so far away, he wondered if she was still in Texas.

“Hannah?”

Her mouth tugged down into a frown, but it wasn’t her usual angry frown. Her eyes were bright in the dappled sunlight.

“Are you all right?”

The corner of her mouth lifted. “I’m all right. I think I’m hungry.”

He sat beside her, pressing his leg into hers. The warmth of her body seeped into his, dispelling the chill that had begun to creep across his spine.

“Talk about yanking me bodily out of my rabbit warren.” She shook her head. “You know I’ve never done that before.”

“Could’ve fooled me. You were good at it.”

She pushed against his shoulder. “Until today I’d only done that with one other person.”

He froze, unwilling to ask about her lost fiancé. At this point, it was none of his business and if he were honest with himself, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

He took her hand. “Look, I won’t say I didn’t like what we did, and I don’t do that all the time.”

“Could’ve fooled me. You were good at it.” She waggled her brows.

That got a laugh that burst out of his throat like a bullet. “Maybe we both needed it.”

“Maybe you’re right.” She sighed and resumed looking at the leaves. “It’s been two years since I let myself feel anything. I’ve been numb for so long I forgot what passion, what
life
, tasted like, so thank you for that.”

“Well, then you’re welcome.” He kissed her hand. “Did I smell scones?”

Hannah watched him as they ate breakfast, her gut clenching. Did she just have casual sex with a man she didn’t know?

She had no one to blame but herself if she had. Hell, she’d practically thrown herself at him. She needed to lose herself in passion and Dylan was readily available. It wasn’t the full truth, but it was at least a partial truth.

Memories of her life with Phillip danced across her mind. She’d blocked them when he’d died, refusing to think of him because then she’d have to say goodbye to him.

The morning had exhausted her emotionally, mentally and physically, but somehow she felt better than she had in a while. She’d been telling the truth when she told Dylan she was all right. Hannah had shed many tears when she lost her love, but she’d not let him go.

Perhaps she should thank her general contractor for being the trigger for the expulsion of the cork she’d been hanging on to. Literally and figuratively.

She drained the coffee in her cup and set it down with a bang. “If you’re done, we can go to the Jorgensens’. I’ll drive.”

He grabbed another scone. “Sure. Let me get my thermos from the truck. I want supplies to go.”

“Fine, but I expect you to share the coffee.” She started a fresh pot then went into her room to put on shoes. The morning had gone sideways, but somehow she wasn’t upset or confused. Dylan had brought her clarity—that was the truth. It was as if being with him had pulled cobwebs away from her path.

She was smiling when she went back in the kitchen. Dylan was just pouring the coffee into a beat-up black thermos. She retrieved the cream from the fridge and the sugar bowl. He fixed the coffee while she packed up the rest of the scones. The man had consumed four of them already. He had a big appetite.

The thought made her snort and she didn’t bother to explain it. He made that face with one brow up and she pointed to the door. “Let’s get cracking, Broadway.”

The drive out to the Jorgensens’ was pleasant. He poured her coffee and she sipped at it from the thermos top. The fact he was sipping from the main thermos made the sharing that much more intimate. She shouldn’t be fussy considering they’d shared much more than coffee. Besides, he fixed the coffee exactly how she liked it. What did that say about them?

When they arrived at the Jorgensens’ warehouse, the building was dark and a yellow notice was attached to the door. “I don’t think I can look at that sign.” Her stomach burbled with the coffee she’d consumed. If she were lucky, she wouldn’t vomit from the stress.

“Let me.” He handed her the thermos and hopped out of her truck. She watched with a tight gut as he read the paper with his hands on his hips. He took a picture of it with his phone then got back in the passenger seat. “It’s been sealed by order of the court.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah, that means their accounts are probably frozen too.”

Hannah felt sick. “Damn them. They must’ve known they were in trouble when they took the money from me.”

“You paid them by check, right?”

“Yes. I’m not that stupid.” Although she felt pretty stupid right about then.

“Go to your bank and tell them what’s happened. Maybe it’s not too late to do something.” He sipped from the thermos.

“I called the bank on the way back to the ranch this morning and left a message. I’ll go by later.” She tightened her grip on the steering wheel. “Thank you for helping me through this.”

He nodded in response. “We can get the measurements from the kitchen area today so we make sure the appliances will fit.”

“I took the measurements from the blueprints.”

He chuffed a laugh. “You really do have your shit together. I’m not sure why you think you’re crazy. I know successful businessmen who couldn’t find their ass with both hands.”

Her throat tightened at the surety in his voice. Not many people saw her as having her shit together. Everyone in her life considered her to be an OCD maniac who could bake like an idiot savant. Granted, her brother respected her gift with numbers, but he looked on her with pity. As though losing Phillip had turned her into less than she’d been, which wasn’t saying much.

Dylan saw her differently. Perhaps because he hadn’t known her all her life. There was no history to cloud his judgment. Her heart fluttered and she found herself falling a little bit in love with him. How that could happen, she couldn’t even begin to explain. Dylan was not her type and she had a feeling she wasn’t his either. They were too much alike to be together.

“Tomorrow we can go see my appliance guy and see what he’s got. I’ll email him a list.”

“Thank you.” She started the truck. “I’d better get back to Tanger so you can get your ass to work. The daylight’s wasting. Can’t spend your day chasing pretty girls.”

He smirked. “Smartass.”

“I don’t think I could be anything else.”

“I don’t have a hard time believing that.” He drank from the thermos again.

The ride back to Tanger was a comfortable silence. The wind whistled through the cab and for the first time in a long time, she didn’t feel the need to fill the air with words. Neither did Dylan.

She wondered why the universe had thrown this man in her path and what would happen next.

* * * * *

Dylan checked the progress on the footings that had been poured the day before. Everything looked good. Today they’d be able to move forward with the floor joists. The sun was crawling up the sky when he heard a truck rumble to a stop behind him.

When a pair of boots,
female
boots, appeared in the dirt, he glanced up. Hannah stood there looking very different than she had when he’d last seen her. She wore blue jeans, a clean T-shirt, her hair was brushed and back in a ponytail, and her eyes were clear. In her hands, she held a pie.

The smell of sweet potato filled this nose. His stomach howled like a rabid dog.

“Hello.” That husky voice of hers sent a shiver up his spine, even in the afternoon heat.

“Miss Blackwood.” He got to his feet, and the fresh scent of soap and woman came to him on the breeze. “Decide to check on the progress?”

A small frown appeared between her eyebrows. “I can’t let you build my restaurant without me.”

“Of course not.”

“Besides, we need to go to your appliance guy today.” She thrust the pie at him. “I made this for you.”

He took the pie, surprised by the warmth from the tin plate. She must’ve pulled it from the oven and driven over. “Thank you. It, ah, smells good.”

She put her hands on her hips and walked around him. “Now I need to do my inspection.”

Dylan frowned at her back. “Your inspection.”

“It is my property and my insurance money.” She proceeded to walk through, climb over, and touch every inch of the build.

He found himself allowing her to do what she needed to. Hannah was passionate about the restaurant. It wasn’t just a business to her. It was part of who she was. Dylan pulled the knife from his back pocket, sat down, and started eating the pie with it.

At this angle, he had a clear view of her shapely ass. And as a bonus, the delicious breakfast she’d brought him. No matter what she said or did, the jobsite was his domain and he would run it as he saw fit. There was an extent to how much he’d let her venture.

“Is this where the pantry will be?” she called from about fifty feet away.

“Yep. And the cistern will be to the left of it.” He took another bite of pie. Jesus, he could gain ten pounds if she kept this up.

“Cistern?” She’d returned to stand in front of him. The breeze ruffled the runaway strands of hair and they caressed the side of her cheek.

“I had Lucas add a cistern to use for the gray water in the building. It’s in the addendum on the last page of the plans. We’re also building in solar panels on the back roof. It gets southwest exposure so it will have sun a good portion of the day.” He got to his feet. “I’ve got to put this pie away before I eat the whole thing.”

She followed him back to the construction trailer. “I didn’t know you were doing those kinds of things.”

He shrugged. “It’s the way we need to build nowadays. Resources are finite, so we need to use as much of the eco-friendly kind as we can.”

“I like it.” She plopped down in the chair behind the desk. “What other surprises are in store?”

“Nothing so far. In this business, surprises are not good. The more you plan, the better you’ll be.” He set the pie in the small fridge in the corner. “You ready to get going? I need to be back here by noon for a delivery.”

She pulled folded up papers from her purse. “I’ve got the list of appliances and measurements. I scanned the blueprints and shrank them down to an eight-by-ten paper. I’ve color-coded them by cold, hot, vegetable-fruit and meat. I’m also going to add a second espresso machine for the Devils’ Corner.”

“Did you hear from the bank?” He was going to be blunt with her, no matter what.

She blew out a breath. “The check got cashed three days ago. There’s nothing they can do.”

“You need an attorney.”

“Yes, I know.” She folded the papers and held them with a white-knuckled grip. “My cousin Naomi is a lawyer. I have an appointment with her tomorrow.”

He frowned. “Is there anyone in this town not connected to your family?”

“Don’t like the Blackwoods?” she snapped.

“I don’t have a feeling one way or the other about your family. It’s just everywhere I turn, I run into them.” He picked up the keys to the truck. “Ready?”

“You’re a stubborn cuss, aren’t you?” She scowled at him. “Like a bronc that won’t be ridden.”

He scowled back at her. “I won’t ever be saddle broke. I suspect neither will you.”

She opened her mouth then closed it again. “Two weeks ago I would’ve told you I was already broken. Now I’m not sure that’s true.” She got to her feet. “Let’s go, cowboy.”

The ride to the appliance scratch and dent place was much different than the one to Jorgensens’ the day before. The air was no longer comfortable. It almost crackled with tension. Dylan wouldn’t have brought her if he’d been thinking straight. She muddled his mind.

When they pulled in, she jumped out of the truck and waited by the door, her papers in hand. Her expression was tight with tension.

“I appreciate you bringing me here.” She sounded like she was making a dental appointment.

“Next time I won’t. You don’t have to be involved in every minute decision, you know. Some of us have to dig our way up from the bottom, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t good at what we do. I need this job, Hannah.” He wasn’t about to admit he was living on a shoestring budget. Life had always been hard and he’d be damned if this woman would make it harder. “With all due respect, I need you to let me do my job.”

He nearly wrenched the door off the hinges as he stomped into the warehouse. His blood pumped hot through his veins. Something about Hannah made him passionate in more ways than one.

“Dylan?” His friend Liam Bridger smiled as he held out his hand. They’d gone to high school together and had remained close since then. “Good to see you.” People had often asked if they were brothers since they both were big men with brown hair. Liam was Irish through and through, with green eyes and a huge Irish family.

“You too.” Dylan managed to crack a smile.

“Where’s your client?” Liam peeked around him and his eyes widened. “Holy shit.”