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Authors: Desiree Holt
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“Taking in the sights?”
She’d been so engrossed in studying her surroundings she hadn’t heard Wyatt mount the side steps to the porch until his warm voice slid over her like a velvet blanket. Her hand jerked and the iced tea sloshed over the rim.
“Sorry.” He lowered his lanky frame into the rocker next to her. “Didn’t mean to startle you.” He took off his hat, shoveled his fingers through his hair, wiped his forehead on the sleeve of his shirt and clapped the hat back on his head. “So how’s everything in the kitchen?”
Was that a smile teasing at the corners of his mouth?
Emily wiped her hand on her jeans—her new jeans—and took another sip of her tea.
“Everything’s just fine. Fried chicken for dinner tonight.”
“Oh? I’m impressed. Second day of cooking school and you’re tackling a staple of the west.”
“Amelia said you aren’t a cook if you can’t make fried chicken,” she told him.
“But you aren’t a cook anyway, are you, Em?” His voice was low and deep.
“Exactly what are you?”
“I’m a refugee from Las Vegas, broke and homeless.” She glanced over at him.
“And I can book a mean convention.”
“Well,” he drawled, “that ought to be a big help in Mesa Blanco.”
“Did you sit down here just to rattle my chains?” She took another swallow of iced tea, determined not to rise to his baiting.
“Yeah, kinda.” He chuckled softly. “I love it that you don’t back down. That you can give as good as you get. You’ll have those idiots who work for me eating out of your hands before another week goes by.”
55
Desiree Holt
“They’re just interested in eating, out of my hand or anywhere else.”
He rocked silently for a moment and Emily toyed with her glass.
“It’s Friday. I thought maybe you’d like to try out another pair of those new jeans tonight and take them into town.”
Emily had to stop her jaw from dropping. “You want to be seen in public? With me?”
“Em.” The word was filled with dogged patience. “Everyone in the county knows by now you work for me. They don’t expect me to keep you hidden under a rock. And they know you’re alone here except for your two friends.”
“I thought you said…”
“What I said was we should keep our private business private. That hasn’t changed.
But there’s nothing that says I can’t take you into town for a little socializing.” He tilted his head back. “Just to set the record straight, I’m only talking about a visit to Chaps and a chance for you to see your friends. I wasn’t planning to strip you naked, tie you up and fuck you on the pool table in front of the entire population of the county.”
Her tea slopped onto her feet as her hand shook and her glass tilted.
Wyatt’s laugh was full and rich. “Take it easy, Emily. Teasing you is too much fun.”
“So you don’t really want to take me into town. Right?”
“Of course I want to. You need to have a little fun.” He leaned closer to her.
“Loosen up.”
Her cheeks felt as if she’d burned them. Maybe he really did plan to strip her naked in the honky-tonk. “I thought I was plenty loose last night,” she muttered.
Wyatt rose from the chair. “That’s for sure, sugar. So tonight we get to have fun, and then we get to play. Better close your mouth before you catch flies. And I’d say it’s about time to start dinner. Lot of chicken to fry.”
She didn’t know if she should dump the rest of her tea on him or tell him to go to hell. Before she could do either he ambled off the porch, still chuckling to himself.
56
Trouble in Cowboy Boots
* * * * *
Emily was sure she’d never get the smell of frying grease off her skin or out of her hair, but the dinner had been a success. Nobody had thrown pieces of chicken at her, the potatoes and gravy were both smooth and the big bowls of vegetables scraped clean. When the kitchen was spotless she turned to scrubbing herself, using extra dollops of
“Taking in the sights?”
She’d been so engrossed in studying her surroundings she hadn’t heard Wyatt mount the side steps to the porch until his warm voice slid over her like a velvet blanket. Her hand jerked and the iced tea sloshed over the rim.
“Sorry.” He lowered his lanky frame into the rocker next to her. “Didn’t mean to startle you.” He took off his hat, shoveled his fingers through his hair, wiped his forehead on the sleeve of his shirt and clapped the hat back on his head. “So how’s everything in the kitchen?”
Was that a smile teasing at the corners of his mouth?
Emily wiped her hand on her jeans—her new jeans—and took another sip of her tea.
“Everything’s just fine. Fried chicken for dinner tonight.”
“Oh? I’m impressed. Second day of cooking school and you’re tackling a staple of the west.”
“Amelia said you aren’t a cook if you can’t make fried chicken,” she told him.
“But you aren’t a cook anyway, are you, Em?” His voice was low and deep.
“Exactly what are you?”
“I’m a refugee from Las Vegas, broke and homeless.” She glanced over at him.
“And I can book a mean convention.”
“Well,” he drawled, “that ought to be a big help in Mesa Blanco.”
“Did you sit down here just to rattle my chains?” She took another swallow of iced tea, determined not to rise to his baiting.
“Yeah, kinda.” He chuckled softly. “I love it that you don’t back down. That you can give as good as you get. You’ll have those idiots who work for me eating out of your hands before another week goes by.”
55
Desiree Holt
“They’re just interested in eating, out of my hand or anywhere else.”
He rocked silently for a moment and Emily toyed with her glass.
“It’s Friday. I thought maybe you’d like to try out another pair of those new jeans tonight and take them into town.”
Emily had to stop her jaw from dropping. “You want to be seen in public? With me?”
“Em.” The word was filled with dogged patience. “Everyone in the county knows by now you work for me. They don’t expect me to keep you hidden under a rock. And they know you’re alone here except for your two friends.”
“I thought you said…”
“What I said was we should keep our private business private. That hasn’t changed.
But there’s nothing that says I can’t take you into town for a little socializing.” He tilted his head back. “Just to set the record straight, I’m only talking about a visit to Chaps and a chance for you to see your friends. I wasn’t planning to strip you naked, tie you up and fuck you on the pool table in front of the entire population of the county.”
Her tea slopped onto her feet as her hand shook and her glass tilted.
Wyatt’s laugh was full and rich. “Take it easy, Emily. Teasing you is too much fun.”
“So you don’t really want to take me into town. Right?”
“Of course I want to. You need to have a little fun.” He leaned closer to her.
“Loosen up.”
Her cheeks felt as if she’d burned them. Maybe he really did plan to strip her naked in the honky-tonk. “I thought I was plenty loose last night,” she muttered.
Wyatt rose from the chair. “That’s for sure, sugar. So tonight we get to have fun, and then we get to play. Better close your mouth before you catch flies. And I’d say it’s about time to start dinner. Lot of chicken to fry.”
She didn’t know if she should dump the rest of her tea on him or tell him to go to hell. Before she could do either he ambled off the porch, still chuckling to himself.
56
Trouble in Cowboy Boots
* * * * *
Emily was sure she’d never get the smell of frying grease off her skin or out of her hair, but the dinner had been a success. Nobody had thrown pieces of chicken at her, the potatoes and gravy were both smooth and the big bowls of vegetables scraped clean. When the kitchen was spotless she turned to scrubbing herself, using extra dollops of
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