Anything But Sweet (16 page)

Nothing looked like the old Town Square.

The gazebo had been torn down. In its place was a new foundation and piles of two-by-fours.
The picnic benches had disappeared. And a border of bright yellow plastic
CAUTION
tape surrounded the entire block.

Somehow, he avoided getting in the way of workers and machinery as he walked toward
a pair of Daisy Dukes and the shapely owner, who was currently on her knees digging
in a flower bed, planting drought-resistant shrubs.

He tilted his head for a better look, feeling not in the least like a total stalker,
just a man who appreciated a nice view.

Or at least that’s what he told himself.

As he came up behind her, he noted the haphazard way she’d pulled all that silky brown
hair into a messy knot on top of her head. He took in the way the muscles in her legs
flexed as she leaned forward and dug in the rich, dark layer of soil. Appreciated
the sheen of perspiration that dampened the back of her slender neck. The tops of
her shoulders were turning a painful shade of red. And as she jammed her trowel into
the ground, she mumbled beneath her breath.

“You forget your sunscreen?” He set the boxes down behind her.

She sat up and turned, looked up at him, and squinted against the bright sunlight.
“What?”

“You’re getting burned.” He pointed to her shoulders, trying to ignore the drip of
sweat trickling between her breasts.

She glanced down. “Oh. Thanks. Sorry. I don’t mean to be cranky, but it’s pretty hot
out here.” She swiped the moisture from her brow with the back of her arm and left
a streak of dirt across her forehead.

He wasn’t sure why that was so sexy, but well, it just was.

Tearing his gaze away from the front of her tank top, he looked at the work going
on around the park. “Doesn’t look like there’s a chance you’re going to be done in
time for Aiden and Paige’s wedding.”

“I know you hope I’ll fall flat on my face and fail.” She looked at the activity around
her—the backhoe scraping off a layer of grass to create an area for the new playground,
the hammering of nails going into the elaborate Victorian gazebo, the studs being
cut for the braces on the new picnic tables. “But I guarantee it
will
be done on time. I’ve never let anyone down before. I’m not going to start now with
your friends.”

She stood, brushed the dirt from her hands, then planted them on her hips and looked
up at him. The sunlight hit her eyes, and, for the first time, he realized they weren’t
just dark, they were rich maple honey with flecks of gold and copper that flashed
at him like the sparks of an electrical storm.

“I know you hate what’s going on here,” she said, “but—”

“I didn’t say I
hated
it.”

“Really?” She tilted her head. A lock of hair slipped from its knot and fell across
her smooth shoulder. She reached up and swept it behind her ear. “You could have fooled
me with all that frowning and growling going on.”

“I don’t growl.”

A smile tilted those pretty lips. “You totally growl.” She reached down and picked
up her planting trowel. “So I’m sure something important dragged you from your cave,
or you wouldn’t have come over here.”

“You’re awful prickly today, Fancy Pants.”

“No, I’m not.”

He shrugged. “Okay.”

“Wow. You’re going to give in that easy?”

“I never give in.”

“Never?”

“Ever.”

“Seriously?”

He couldn’t help smile. “Dead serious.”

She grinned like someone had given her a fresh scoop of ice cream with colored sprinkles.
“Then you’re on.”

“And you’re not making sense.”

“Sure I am. I’m taking that challenge.”

“I don’t remember issuing one.”

She took a step closer. “We’ve pretty much established that other than a moment or
two of wonderful insanity or a break in hostility, you don’t like me much.”

He wasn’t sure how he felt about her anymore. Parts of him wanted to strangle her
pretty neck or kick her cute backside all the way out of town. Other parts wanted
to pull her into him and kiss her all damn day long. And then there were other parts
that just wanted to grab her, back her up against a tree, and go primitive.

“So I’m taking the challenge of making you give in,” she said.

“Give in to what?”

She stepped even closer and got all chesty, like a bulldog looking for a fight. “Me.”

He laughed. “Not going to happen.”

“Really?”

“Nope.”

Her head tilted again, exposing that sweet, soft skin. He really wished she’d quit
doing that. “Want to make a bet?”

“I don’t take money from women.”

“Good, because I don’t want your money.”

“Then what
do
you want?” he asked, knowing that what
he
wanted right at that moment was to tear off that little tank top and put his hands
all over her.

“If
I
win, I get to make over the hardware store with no whining or interference from you.
If
you
win, I leave your precious dusty conglomeration of paraphernalia alone.” She stuck
out her hand. “Deal?”

“How will I know who wins?”

“Oh, you’ll know.” She grinned. “Believe me. You’ll know.”

Well, didn’t that just sound intriguing as hell? If only to find out exactly what
she had in mind, he engulfed her hand in his and shook on a bet that was too stupid
for him to believe that he’d taken a part in.

“So what’s in the boxes,” she asked, still latched onto his hand.

He looked down. “Landscape lighting.”

“You mean the landscape lighting that supposedly you couldn’t find?”

“Yep.”

“Just like the ceiling tiles you couldn’t find, then somehow they mysteriously appeared
on the ceiling of Goody Gum Drops?”

“Yep.”

She tugged on his hand and drew him closer. And all he could do was get lost in those
electrical flashes in her eyes.

“I’m onto you, Reno Wilder.”

“You’re delusional, Fancy Pants.”

“Uh-uh. You’re not half as tough as you think. And don’t worry. I won’t tell a soul.”
She reached up, patted him on the chest. “But believe me, you only get a temporary
reprieve. Because I plan to be on top very soon. So you’d better watch your stuff.”

While he wondered exactly what part of his
stuff
he was supposed to watch, she gave him a sassy little grin and strutted away.

An unexpected chuckle rose from his chest.

As much as he’d liked to be pissed off about everything, he couldn’t. Because at the
moment, all he could think about was Charli.

On top.

In his favorite position.

Wearing nothing but a smile.

“I
f you dare to stray from the expected, you get a big old mouthful of sweet, delicious
heaven.”

Immersed in the patriotic “Don’t Mess with Texas” décor, Charli sat around a big table
in the heart of Bud’s Nothing Finer Diner surrounded by blue hairs, big hairs, and
no hairs. Age—and obviously hairstyles—had no boundaries when the topic turned to
the potluck dishes everyone had chosen to bring to the Wilders’ celebration on Friday
night.

“I got a crate of honeycrisp from Paige’s orchard last fall,” Hazel Calhoun continued
to tell Gertie West, “and I swear on the
good book
they’re a better choice than Granny Smiths.”

“What did you call that recipe again?” Charli asked, intrigued, and suddenly inspired
to order a slice of Bud’s fresh apple pie.

“Apple, cinnamon, and walnut rolls with cream cheese,” Hazel said, as proud as a mama
bear.

“Mmmmm.” Charli’s mouth watered. “I’m looking forward to tasting those.”

“They won’t beat my sweet-potato fries and apple-butter dipping sauce,” Gertie West
proclaimed. “That butter’s been a blue ribbon winner for two years’ running.”

While the argument over whose recipe reigned supreme, Charli couldn’t help wonder
a little bit more about Jana Wilder’s get-together for the entire population of Sweet.

“So what goes on at this party?” she asked.

“What
doesn’t
go on?” Ray Calhoun jumped into the female-dominated discussion. “Obviously, if
you listen to the womenfolk, it’s just a bunch of eatin’. But there’s dancin’ too.
And entertainment.” He hooted a laugh. “Old Chester’s been known to tip back a bottle
of Dickel, get a little crazy, and haul his scraggly old bones out for a skinny dip
in the creek.”

A mental image of the ancient cowboy in nothing but his boots brought forth a giggle.
“Does the entire town actually show up?” Charli asked.

“Nah,” Ray said, “ ’bout a third do, though. Those Wilder boys built their mama the
biggest smoker grill I ever seen. Looks like a damned military tank. But it sure does
make a sweet barbecue.” Ray licked his lips.

“And you said there was dancing?” Charli asked.

“Always a local band,” Gertie said. “Think this year Jana rounded up Moonshine Mayhem.”

Again, Charli laughed. “Well, that sounds lively.”

“Yeah, they play down at Devils once in a while when they’re in town. Singer sounds
a little like Brad Paisley.”

“Who?”

They all looked at her as if she’d popped a brain cell.

“We don’t have many country stations in L.A.,” she explained.

“Well, who in blazes would want to live somewhere like that?” Hazel Calhoun said.
“Country’s the only music anymore that has something to say.”

From what Charli had heard since she’d been in town, she’d have to agree. She thought
about the truck song she’d heard when Reno drove her home from Devils. She liked that
and the one she’d heard on his back veranda. Country music talked about loving, and
losing, and telling your boss to shove it. It spoke of heartache, and happiness, and
how to walk the line. “I heard a song I really liked by George—”

“King
George,” they all said.

“Bless his heart,” Hazel added.

Charli couldn’t help but be impressed that someone who made music for a living could
create such devotion from those he sang for. But this was Texas. And if Charli had
learned one thing about the great state, it was that things grew big there—including
hearts.

One heart in particular interested her more than the rest.

She lifted her coffee cup, took a sip, and flagged down the waitress to order a slice
of that pie.

In just a couple of weeks, her and Reno’s relationship had gone from growls and demands
to a bit of laughter, and even kisses. He’d helped her with her projects even when
he didn’t want to. And as much as his hands stayed in the pockets of his jeans, his
eyes danced all over her body like he wanted those hands to follow.

She didn’t know him well, and yet she felt like she’d known him all her life. And
while she understood the pain of losing his father and brother, she couldn’t understand
why he’d chosen to put a “hands off” sign on his heart. Something else—something
beyond devastating—burned inside him and kept him from finding happiness.

“You bringing anything to the party, dear?” Gertie asked.

“Absolutely.” Charli dug her fork into the flaky crust of the apple pie and slid the
sugary treat into her mouth. Friday night, she had an opportunity to change things
up. To make him notice.
She
was going to follow Arlene Potter’s advice and turn up everything she had to full
volume. She planned to bring her secret weapon. Even if she didn’t know exactly what
it was yet.

As much as she’d often wished her upbringing could have been different, she appreciated
that she’d been brought up with a military mentality.

Fight for what you believe in.

Fight for honor.

Fight for love.

And when it came to Reno Wilder, she was prepared to fight dirty.

Chapter 13

A
fter a long week of putting in hours at the store, moving cattle, and helping put
everything together for the party, Reno was surprised he had any energy left. But
as he buttoned up his shirt and set his favorite Stetson on his head, energy zapped
through him like he’d stuck his finger in a light socket.

In past years, he’d offered to help his brothers man the party grill, which often
took up most of the evening hours. This year, he’d assigned himself to other projects
that might not be so time-consuming. Tonight, he’d decided to take a break and try
to enjoy himself for once.

What had changed?

Everything.

Each morning when he awoke, he had thoughts running through his head that were often
accompanied by a throbbing erection. Those thoughts always included Charlotte Brooks.
Naked. Half-naked. Fully dressed. But mostly naked.

It had become a habit. She’d become a fever in his blood he couldn’t ease. An itch
he couldn’t scratch.

A dream he couldn’t make real.

But that didn’t stop the dream from coming night after night after night.

Stretched out by his boots, Bear gave a colossal groan.

“Sorry I can’t take you this time, boy.” He bent down and gave the dog a good rub.
“You’d either get stomped on the dance floor or lost in the shuffle.”

Bear’s head snapped up. He whined, jumped to his feet, and trotted out of the bedroom.
Moments later, a knock on the door rose above Jake Owens on the radio complaining
about some girl only kissing him when she was drunk. In Reno’s mind, that didn’t necessarily
have to be a bad thing. As long as she knew what she was doing and remembered it the
next day.

And when a man started trying to make explanations for a song, he needed to wake the
hell up and get out a little more often.

He nudged an anxiously wiggling Bear aside and opened the front door. In a flash of
orange, Pumpkin dashed inside, took a running nip at Bear’s ear, then disappeared
into the back of the house. Bear followed.

“Would you mind if Pumpkin stayed here tonight?”

Reno swung his gaze back toward the door and did his best to keep his tongue inside
his mouth.

Standing in the doorway with the waning sunlight highlighting her from behind, stood
Charli, in a floaty, short, and sexy sundress. Her dark hair floated down over her
slender shoulders and wide, halter-style straps in loose, sexy curls. The creamy
color made him think of the famous Marilyn Monroe dress, and he wished for a sudden
breeze to lift the fabric and give him a glance at Charli’s long legs. His gaze traveled
down the deep-cut cleavage-revealing front of her dress to a pair of red Western
boots.

He swallowed.

“Would that be okay?” she asked, her lips sparkling with a sheen of gloss. “I mean,
I don’t want to intrude. But our dogs seem to have a good time together.”

His gaze snapped up, and he noticed that in her hands she held a large bowl of something
that smelled sweet and delicious. Or maybe that was just her. “What?”

“Our dogs? Pumpkin gets bored waiting for me up in the apartment. And since I don’t
know how late your mother’s party will go—”

“Late,” he said. “Sometimes the last stragglers don’t leave till sunrise.”

“Really?”

“That’s why Mom always holds it on a Friday night.”
Damn she looks good.
“Gives everyone the weekend to recuperate.”

“Well, then, do you mind if Pumpkin hangs out with Bear until I come home? I expect
to be back long before sunrise.”

“No problem.” His eyes took another slow ride down her body. “You need a lift?”

“No thanks.” She flashed him a smile. “I’m picking up Sarah, my assistant, on the
way so we can have a little girl talk.”

“About?”

“Boys.” She gave a throaty chuckle that turned him inside out. “What else?” With a
casual wave, she stepped off the veranda. “See you later, Cowboy.”

Reno leaned a shoulder against the doorjamb and watched her sashay toward the Hummer
parked near the barn. She sure had all the right moves. No doubt she’d be the hit
of the party.

Something in his chest gave a hard thump.

He didn’t like that notion at all.

When she finally drove off, he closed the door, grabbed his keys, and with a “Behave”
threat to the dogs, who were too busy playing tag to care, headed toward his truck.

The closer he came to his childhood home, the more the cars began to clog the parking
lane, and the more he realized he would need to figure out how to keep the male population
of Sweet away from Charli.

He had no right.

And he didn’t care.

But if anyone was going to dance with her tonight, it would damn well be him.

C
harli had been to military soirees, Beverly Hills bashes, and Mardi Gras masquerades,
but she’d never been to anything like the Wilder BBQ Blowout.

Jana had said the party was a celebration. An understatement to be sure. Beneath the
live oaks, people gathered in groups under multiple strings of decorative lights.
In the barn, there were fabric banners in playful colors. Tables were covered with
blue cloths and adorned with watering cans full of bluebonnets and sunflowers. Dishes
of potluck delights dotted the tabletops with a tasty array of homemade favorites.
Charli added her bowl of Chinese chicken salad to the mix, then guided Sarah over
to the beverage table, where galvanized buckets were filled with ice, bottles of soda,
and sweet tea. Hay bales were strategically placed for folks to gather or kids to
use as launch boards.

When Reno strolled into the barn beside his brothers, Charli caught his eye, smiled,
then casually went on about her business like her heart wasn’t about to leap from
her chest. Everything about the man made her stand up and smile. Made her feel like
there was the possibility of light at the end of the tunnel.

For so long, she’d focused on survival, then her career. When she thought she’d found
love, she’d learned that there were men out there who were less than honest with her
and themselves. She had no doubt that Reno was the most honest man she’d ever met.
Honest to a fault to be sure. What woman wouldn’t want to be with a man so honorable,
so traditional, so loyal? A man so tied to family and friends that he would sacrifice
his own happiness.

From the corner of her eye, she saw him stop, lean down, and hug an elderly woman
sitting beside a gentleman in a wheelchair. When he rose and saluted the man, Charli’s
eyes misted.

“I’ve never seen anything like this before,” Sarah commented.

“Me either. It’s fabulous.” Charli glanced over the heads of the people in line in
front of them. “Someone needs to do a magazine spread on this event.”

“I can’t believe Mrs. Wilder puts this together all by herself.”

“I’m sure she has plenty of help. After all, she has three muscular sons here to give
her a hand and a fourth who, I’m sure, wishes he were here.”

“Where’s the fourth one?”

“Still in the Marines. Deployed, I’m sure, risking his neck so we can party. Kind
of makes you feel guilty, doesn’t it?”

Sarah nodded. “
Really
guilty.”

Charli wrapped her arm around Sarah’s shoulder. “I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t want
us to feel that way. Not if he’s his mother’s son. I know my father has never regretted
a moment he’s spent wearing a uniform.”

“Still.”

“Uh-uh, young lady. This is Mrs. Wilder’s way to celebrate. You’re wearing a pretty
dress with your hair all fixed up, and you’re even wearing your contacts.”

“I feel naked.”

“You look amazing. And I want you to have a good time tonight. Is that clear?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Charli corrected her on the name usage. Tonight was no time for formalities. Charli
had something a lot less conventional in mind. With that at the forefront of her plans,
she accepted a red Solo cup filled with raspberry lemonade and led Sarah out of the
barn and into the festivities.

Outside, the decorations were just as appealing. Galvanized buckets filled with wildflowers
brightened up the wooden fence posts. Colorful piñatas hung from the shady oak trees.
And colorful paper lanterns were crisscrossed on rope over a makeshift dance floor.
A four-piece band played an energetic tune, with the singer proclaiming
all you have to do is put a drink in my hand
from atop the bed of a flatbed truck. And the scent of sweet barbecue wafted and
curled through the air from an enormous, smoking, kettle grill.

People stood in groups chatting and laughing, or gathered around long picnic tables
snacking on pulled pork, tender brisket, and corn on the cob.

Charli noticed Jana on the veranda taking it all in. Judging by the smile on her face,
she was enjoying every moment.

That smile made Charli happy. Anyone who’d suffered the losses she had, who worked
hard at being a good mother, and who outdid herself for the community deserved to
smile. She was quite the woman, Charli thought, watching her go inside the house on
the arm of a handsome silver-haired man. Charli thought her own mother would be very
much like Jana Wilder.

When a pang of loss hit her heart, she took a deep breath and turned to Sarah. “There’s
so much going on, I don’t know where to start,” she said. “Are you hungry?”

Sarah bit her lip, as if trying to decide.

From out of nowhere a spectacular-looking young man popped up in front of them. He
looked to be in his midtwenties, wore a plaid shirt that fit snug over bulging biceps
and Wranglers stacked perfectly just above his boots. His straw hat was a bit worn
but sat perfect over his short brown hair and shaded his bright green eyes.

“Hi,” he said in a deep voice. “I’m Zack.”

Charli nearly laughed when she realized that he hadn’t even noticed she was standing
there. Those green eyes were set only on Sarah. And wasn’t that just about as perfect
as things could get.

Her assistant returned his smile in a more timid version. He told her how pretty she
looked, and the conversation was off to a running start. Neither noticed when Charli
slipped away and crossed the yard toward the house.

“Hey. I’ve been looking for you.”

Charli turned at the sound of Paige’s voice. “Uh-oh. What’d I do this time?”

Paige laughed, tucked her arm through Charli’s, and, together, they walked toward
the big, ranch-style home.

“Jana sent me to find you. She wanted you to see the progress she’s made on redecorating
her bedroom.”

“Wow. She works fast.”

“I think she’s just finally ready to move on. In Texas, when we move, we do it in
a big way.”

“Sometimes it’s easier to move fast. Doesn’t give you the time to overthink what you’re
doing.”

“Tell me about it.” Paige chuckled. “When Aiden came home from the war, I knew I had
to hook him with lightning speed before he let the dumb idea that he was no good for
me stick in his head forever.”

“No good for you? You two are perfect together.”

“We are. But he lost so much in Afghanistan, and he blamed himself. The big dummy
had convinced himself that he didn’t deserve to be happy.”

Sounded familiar.

Paige could have easily been talking about Reno.

“So how’d you get him to change his mind?”

“Well, I helped him find a missing piece of his puzzle; and then I didn’t give him
much time to think. Aaaaaand I also kind of told him that I wasn’t going anywhere,
so unless he wanted a full-time stalker, he’d better hook up with me.”

Charli liked Paige. And she was sure that if she were to stay in Sweet, they’d become
good friends. “Sounds like Aiden made a very smart decision.”

They stepped up onto the wide veranda, and Paige opened the front door. “Ah, you know,
we’ve loved each other since we were kids. He just got a little lost along the way.
It was my duty as the person who loved him most to show him the way home.”

Charli’s chest lifted on a sigh. “That kind of love doesn’t come around often.”

“Happens more often than you think. Come on, let’s go find Jana.”

Charli followed Paige through the entry and took a quick glance at the gallery of
photos lining the walls. When she came to a framed eight-by-ten of Reno and a beautiful
blonde holding each other close and grinning like there was no tomorrow, she stopped.
“I don’t remember seeing this one the last time I was here.”

“You were probably just looking at the other side and missed these,” Paige said. “That’s
Reno and Diana at their engagement party.”

Diana?

“When was this taken?” Charli asked.

“About two and a half years ago.” Paige rubbed away a smudge on the glass.

“Did they get married?”

Paige sighed. “They didn’t have time.”

Charli’s heart stuttered. “What happened?”

“I wouldn’t feel comfortable telling you, but it’s common knowledge, so it’s not like
I’m gossiping.”

“I would never think that about you.”

“Reno and Diana had been a couple for a long time. Everyone knew they’d get married.
It was just a matter of when. Still, when he proposed, Diana said it was like something
from a storybook. He loved her so much he planned it out to perfection.”

Charli was curious what
perfection
meant to a man like Reno, but she didn’t ask.

“By then, Jared had died and that drew Reno and Diana even closer. An engagement seemed
like the next step, and it gave everyone a moment of happiness. But then Joe died,
and Reno was just . . . lost. Diana became his whole world. They decided to move up
the wedding because it seemed as though everyone needed something to celebrate when
all they’d done for so long was mourn.

“A few days before the wedding, Diana and her sister drove to Austin to pick up her
wedding dress. On the way home, she texted Reno to tell him how excited she was to
start their new life together and how much she loved him, then . . .”