Anything But Sweet (6 page)

“You know the old rule: Keep your friends close, your enemies closer.”

“She’s off to a good start,” Jesse said.

“A good start at what?” Reno pulled Cisco to a stop. “Destroying our town? Butting
her nose where it doesn’t belong?”

“Pissing you off,” Jackson said.

“Yep,” Jesse added. “She’s doing a fine job of that.”

“I’m askin’ her out,” Jackson declared.

“Are you crazy?” Reno could not believe what he was hearing. “First you sabotage me
by loaning her your apartment, and now you’re going to ask her out?”

“Sorry, big brother, I didn’t know you were interested in her.”

“I’m not.” Reno gritted his teeth.

Jackson pulled his horse around. “You sure about that?”

“She is pretty damned hot,” Jesse chimed in.

“You’ve both lost your minds. She’s temporary, and she’s trouble.” Reno kicked Cisco
into a gallop toward home, leaving his brothers behind. The last thing he’d ever do
would be to get involved with someone who had absolutely no respect for tradition.
Or even just a sense for the vibe of a place that had no need for commercialization.

No matter how damned hot she might be.

The closer he got to his own barn, he thought of the woman who’d be sleeping in his
upstairs apartment that night wearing a skimpy pair of shorts and a barely there tank
top with a pile of wild curls tangled on top of her head.

As much as his brain denied, denied, denied, his body tightened in agreement with
his brothers.

Charli Brooks was indeed a very hot woman.

Now all Reno had to do was find a way to put out the fire.

Chapter 5

“I
t’s nice here, isn’t it?”

Charli jumped. Caught in the act of poking around the garden behind the house, she
looked up to find a beautiful woman with a warm smile, sharp blue eyes, and a big
blond hairdo walking toward her. At her side was a brown goat with a pink ribbon around
its neck.

“Hello,” Charli said, while Pumpkin chased Bear around the lawn.

“Welcome.” The woman extended her hand, and their palms met in a firm handshake. “Jana
Wilder. I spoke with you on the phone about your staying here.”

“Oh! It’s so nice to finally meet you.” Charli smiled and looked down at the goat,
which stood like a well-behaved pet. “Who’s your friend?”

“This is Miss Giddy,” she said. “We’ve been pals since the day she was born. Her mama
didn’t make it. And well, I guess with me holding her feeding bottle, she kind of
figured I was a good enough replacement.”

Miss Giddy bleated out a welcome that made Charli laugh. “Can I pet her?”

“Oh sure. She’s a friendly sort.”

Charli reached out, then pulled back when the goat nudged her hand with its horns.

“Don’t be afraid,” Jana said. “That’s just the way she says howdy. She’s a cashmere.”

“Like the sweater?” Charli petted the animal’s long neck.

“Exactly. When my husband was alive, we had a small herd. But after he died, it became
too much to work the cattle and keep up with combing the goats too. So we sold them.
I just didn’t have the heart to send Miss Giddy away.”

“She’s very sweet,” Charli said, then laughed when the goat nodded in agreement.

“So . . . you like my son’s garden?”

“It’s lovely.” Charli joined Jana Wilder on a stroll through the gravel paths between
raised beds in the garden behind her landlord’s home. “I’ve always dreamed of having
one just like this.”

Jana looked up. “What stopped you from making it happen?”

Charli leaned down and tested the ripeness of a Roma tomato. “My father is career
military. We moved a lot.”

“Really? What branch?”

“Marines. He’s a lieutenant general.”

“Impressive. All my five boys have served in the Marines, with various ranks,” Mrs.
Wilder said with pride. “My youngest, Jake, has just been promoted to staff sergeant.
He’s still deployed to Afghanistan. We lost our oldest in the Helmand Province. Just
outside Camp Leatherneck.”

A chill ran down Charli’s back. She knew Camp Leatherneck—the largest Marine base
in Afghanistan—and she knew better than to ask what had happened. The area was known
to be riddled with IEDs and Taliban fighters. If someone wanted to talk of their loved
one, she always held the door open. But for some it was just too painful. She’d seen
countless families lose a loved one to the war. She knew the pain of loss and the
slow process to heal.

In Charli’s mind, the eldest Wilder son was a brave young man who had enlisted, fought,
and died in the name of freedom. People had loved him. People missed him. And in
the hearts of America, he was and would always be a hero.

“I’m so sorry for your loss.” Without knowing much at all about Jana Wilder, Charli
hugged her. She was not at all surprised when the woman hugged her back. For several
breaths, they remained in a quiet embrace before Charli leaned away and said, “You
must be very proud of him.”

“Jared.” Jana Wilder smiled and nodded. “He is—was—a special boy. Always challenging
the others to step it up. Do a better job. Take a bigger challenge. He and Reno were
the closest in age. They shared a room and were inseparable.” She sighed. “I know
Reno still blames himself for not being assigned to the same operation. He believes
he could have saved his brother had he been there. Most likely, I’d have lost them
both.”

A mother’s nightmare times two.

“Reno can be a bit sullen.” Her slow Southern drawl flowed smooth as butter. Though
Charli could imagine that with five sons, the woman had learned to raise that drawl
into a meaningful threat. “I’m sure you’ve seen that in him already. Jackson and Jesse
think they can tease it out of him. But it will have to be something else. Something
completely unexpected.”

Reno. So
that
was his name. Charli couldn’t help but picture that devastatingly handsome face and
wonder where he’d gotten such a unique moniker when it appeared that the rest of his
family all had names that began with J.

“All my boys have grown up to make me proud. Reno just needs to learn to laugh again.
And I . . .” She gave a twist to a large zucchini until the stem snapped. “Try to
shake up his somber little world every chance I get.”

“Well, that would explain offering the use of the apartment to me.”

“Oh yeah.” Jana chuckled. “He wasn’t happy about that.”

“Tell me about it.”

Jana’s smile brightened. “I would have warned y’all, but his bark is worse than his
bite.”

Charli wasn’t so sure.

“Now this is going to make a tasty meal.” The older woman held up the huge vegetable.
“Ever had stuffed zucchini?”

“I can’t say that I have.”

With a wink, Jana said, “Then you come by tomorrow night for dinner.”

“Oh. Well thank you, but I’m not sure what time we’ll be done working on the senior
center so—”

“Tastes just as good heated up. If you can’t make it, I’ll send some home with Reno
for you.”

Charli smiled. “I’d appreciate that.” But from the intimidating looks the grumpy Mr.
Wilder pointed in her direction, she’d be smart to give it a poison test first.

L
ater that evening, Charli discovered a new love that had nothing to do with the male
persuasion and everything to do with the Adirondack chair she’d settled into on Reno
Wilder’s back veranda. The glass of locally made zinfandel and Texas twilight added
to her love affair. Entertainment came from the very vocal and territorial hummingbirds
battling for dominance over the multiple feeders that hung from the patio roof.

With the man of the house out of the vicinity, she allowed herself to relax. She kicked
her feet up onto the matching footstool, let out a long sigh, and chuckled as Pumpkin,
exhausted from playing with Bear, collapsed on the lawn and passed out. Charli sipped
her wine and listened to the orchestra of the crickets hidden in the surrounding trees
and grass.

She’d enjoyed her conversation with Jana Wilder, and she’d learned a lot about the
Wilder family without even asking. One thing she’d learned during the weeks she’d
spent rejuvenating the small towns of America was how easy it was to become immersed
in people’s lives. She learned to like them, care about them, and she wanted to continue
her newfound relationships. At the end of the projects, when she had to climb back
up into the Hummer and drive out of town, she always left with an overdose of melancholy.

Always on the move.

She’d never wanted to live a vagabond life, but that’s exactly what had happened.
One of these days—just like she’d promised herself—she’d stop somewhere and stay
put.

With a glance up at the stars emerging from the darkening sky, she realized Sweet
was the exact type of place she’d like to stay. Open up shop. Start a new life. Plant
some roots and never have to worry about being the new girl again.

She settled back into the chair a little more and sighed. Yep. Planting some deep
roots sounded really nice.

In the distance, the soft thud of hooves came closer. She searched the now-barely-visible
meadow. Probably one of the cows—whom she’d discovered are curious animals—coming
up to take a look. Instead, the shadowy outline of a horse appeared out of the darkness
with its rider sitting tall in the saddle. The sound of a gate on rusty hinges creaked
open, then slammed shut. When the hooves clip-clopped across the gravel drive, Charli
got up from her comfy chair to investigate.

By the time she reached the barn, the rider had settled the horse near the stalls.
He took a deep breath, which expanded the broad shoulders of plaid shirtsleeves rolled
to the elbows above muscular forearms. He tipped the straw hat back on his head, swung
a long leg over the saddle, and stepped down to the ground. His spurs jangled.

No. Way.

Charli stood in the shadows of twilight, mouth agape, heart pounding.

Reno Wilder wasn’t just a shop owner. He wasn’t just a man’s man whose gruff exterior
sent out warning signals a mile wide. He wasn’t just a former Marine.

Reno Wilder was a genuine freaking cowboy.

Good. God.

Her sharp intake of air gave her away, and he slowly turned—mouthwatering sexy dripping
from every single masculine pore. Charli’s heart took off in a race. She couldn’t
even think straight enough to grab hold before it completely went off the radar.

A groan rumbled from that wide, tight chest. “You need something, Fancy Pants?”

“You’re a cowboy.”

“I’m a rancher.”

“You ride a horse,” she said, stating the obvious. But for the life of her, sensible
words were out of reach.

“Hard to be a rancher unless you can.”

She folded her arms, leaned a shoulder against the barn door, and watched him move
the stirrup aside to unhook the cinch. His movements were sure and steady. He lifted
the saddle and pad from the animal and walked a few steps to place it on a stand.
Even while trying to reengage her man-ban mission, Charli couldn’t help but notice
the way those well-worn jeans cupped his spectacular backside.

“What about trucks or ATVs?” she asked.

The horse gave his arm a nudge when he reached to remove the headstall. With his large
hand, he gave the animal an affectionate stroke on the neck that gave Charli a tug
way down deep in her lemon yellow panties.

“Cows see trucks they think they’re getting fed or going to the slaughterhouse,” he
said. “ATVs scare the crap out of them.”

“Literally?”

“There you go asking questions again.”

“If I don’t ask, how am I ever going to learn?”

He turned to look at her like she’d lost a screw. “You want to learn about cow crap?”

She walked into the barn. “Not really.”

He hung the leather piece on a hook, opened the stall door, and the horse wandered
inside. He pulled a flake of hay from a cube outside the door and dropped it into
a feeder attached to the inside of the stall. Then he grabbed a soft-bristled brush,
and, while the horse happily munched away, he ran that brush methodically down the
horse’s sweaty back.

“Do you do that after every ride?” she asked.

“Yes.” He exhaled. “It’s his reward. Makes him feel good after a long ride.”

Well, didn’t
that
just put a different kind of thought into her head. “So you’re all about feeling
good?”

He braced his arms on the horse’s back and dropped his head between them. Then he
shook it ever so slowly, the motion catching shadows on the straw brim of his hat
in the low overhead light.

Finally, he looked up at her. Exasperation darkened his face.

Could be just the play of shadows again.

She tilted her head to look closer.

Nope.

Clearly exasperated.

“If you’d like a lesson in horsemanship, I suggest you call Chester Banks,” he said.

“Who’s that?”

“He’s an old cowboy who loves pretty ladies. I’m sure he’d be happy to show you a
thing or two.”

“Was that a compliment?”

With something that could be roughly considered a growl, he tossed the grooming brush
back on the shelf, closed the stall door, and walked out of the barn.

She followed.

“Don’t you think it’s rude to ignore someone when they’ve asked you a direct question?”

He stopped halfway across the gravel drive and turned so fast she almost ran into
the back of him. He smelled of hardworking man. And horse. And she was surprised at
the jumping beans that began to leap around in her stomach and start a march toward
her lower abdomen.

“Pardon my rude behavior.” His tone dripped with sarcasm. “My mother did raise me
to have better manners and to be honest. So yes. That was a compliment. And now I’ll
bid you a good night.”

He disappeared into the house, and Charli watched until a light came on in the back.
She watched as his shadow passed by the window shade. She watched as he unbuttoned
his shirt and pulled it off.

Her heart sprang up into her throat.

Watching that shadow play was like paying a quarter for a peep show. Only
she
got it for free.

He thinks I’m pretty.

Butterflies did a dance around her heart before she could swat them away.

Behind the shade, his shadow unbuttoned those soft, worn, butt-hugging jeans and
slid them down his lean hips. Charli sucked in a big gulp of air, then headed back
to the veranda and her glass of wine.

With all the estrogen doing a conga line through her blood, she needed a drink.

Well, she really needed something else.

But she’d settle for the drink.

R
eno turned on the shower and stepped beneath the hot stream. He braced his palms on
the tiled wall and let the water cascade over his head and down his back while he
waited for the tension to leave his body. A long time passed before he finally got
the message that it wasn’t going to happen, and he grabbed the bar of soap. Minutes
later, he toweled off and pulled on his most comfortable jeans and a clean white T-shirt.

Ignoring thoughts of the woman who’d invaded his property, his life, and his sanity,
he went downstairs to feed Bear and enjoy a cold beer on his back veranda. Nothing
soothed his soul like watching the stars and moon float in the velvet sky. Or the
scent of the dew on the grass. Or a warm breeze on his face. Or the quiet calm of
a summer night.

As he passed through the kitchen, he flipped on the radio and smiled at the George
Strait song. “The Man in Love with You” had always been one of his favorites. He’d
heard his father sing it to his mother countless times. Once, he’d even caught them
dancing on the back patio while a summer storm beat down on the roof and his father
hummed the tune. It didn’t play on the radio all that often anymore, but the lyrics
still warmed a place in his heart.