So Tough To Tame. Victoria Dahl
wearing skinny jeans and a big ol’ shit-eating grin. I thought you said she was a nice girl, Walker.”
“What?” he asked in honest confusion. “Nice girls don’t wear skinny jeans?” In his opinion, the very nicest girls graced the world with skinny jeans. Tight denim was a gift to all.
“No, they do not. And they certainly don’t walk in here like they own the place.”
“Rayleen,” Jenny sighed. “Charlie was perfectly kind. You just didn’t like that she didn’t take your bait.”
“What bait?” the old lady snapped.
“Oh, I don’t know. What about when you said you’d prefer a Charlie that damn well fit his name, and she just winked and said she’d take a cowboy over her own self any day, too?”
“Impertinent.”
“Kind of like you?” Jenny said.
Walker tipped up his hat. “I like a lively lady myself. Why else would I be hanging out in your saloon all the time, Rayleen?”
“Maybe because it’s right next door to your place and you don’t have a damn job!”
“Hey, now. I’m picking up work and I’ve got plenty lined up for roundup.”
Rayleen dismissed him with a wave of her hand. “You’re the one who got me into this. I’m not speaking to you.”
“Are you just trying to get me to turn around so you can look at my behind, Miss Rayleen?”
“That’s a perfect idea. Gives me a nice view and I don’t have to talk to your lying self. Go on. Turn around now.”
“Only ’cause you asked nice.” He turned his back on her and raised his eyebrows to Jenny, who leaned closer.
“Charlie was great. Rayleen just wanted her to be intimidated, and Charlie met every one of her barbs with a smile and a wink. Sort of like you. Only without the big cowboy part.”
“Which big cowboy part?” Walker asked.
“You’re awful.”
“Come on, now. That’s not what you’ve heard.”
Jenny threw her head back and laughed. “You really are incorrigible, Walker.”
“That I’ll admit to. Is Charlie all settled in? I haven’t seen her yet.”
“Nate gave her the key a couple of hours ago, and she took the lease to read over. Which Rayleen also didn’t like. She likes you cowboys who just sign the thing without even glancing at it.”
“We are adventurers at heart.”
“Or romantic fools.”
“That, too.”
She winked. “Want a beer?”
“No, I was just checking in on the new tenant. I heard about some winter work up near Yellowstone, so I’m gonna head up there and check it out. I’m fine through fall, but I’m hoping to find enough work to get me through to spring.”
“You’ll find something, Walker. People like your face.”
“Ha. That they do.” People did like his face, thank God. It was one of the few things he had going for him. Otherwise, he was just another cowboy among thousands. A good one, granted. Good with his hands. Good with horses. Willing to endure heat and cold and snow and rain, not to mention low pay and physically punishing work for fifty years, give or take a dozen.
But people liked his face, so he’d been able to get jobs at dude ranches, which offered work that paid a little more and hurt a little less, as long as you didn’t mind working with tourists. He didn’t. But this damn sure wasn’t dude ranch season.
He tipped his hat. “I’ll see you later, Jenny. Have a good day, Miss Rayleen.”
Rayleen shooed him away without looking up.
She’d get over it, and Charlie had a place to stay. His good deed was done, and he was wrapped up in his own troubles before he even stepped outside.
Finding work wasn’t really a problem. He’d already gotten plenty of jobs at an old dude ranch he’d worked for years before, and they’d likely hire him on permanently in the spring. He had enough savings to get through winter. Things should be fine.
But if stories were circulating about him and the boss’s wife... Shit. He’d really fucked up. Every boss had a wife. And none of them wanted their women sleeping with the hired hands.
Still, something more than that was tugging at his brain. Maybe—
His thoughts were sliced in two when he glanced up and saw a woman struggling to get a big round table up the front steps of the Stud Farm.
“Charlie?” he called, rushing forward to take the table from her hands.
She looked up, her brown hair sliding over her shoulders as she turned. Her light gray eyes went wide. “Oh, my God! Walker, is that you behind that beard?”
“It’s me,” he said with a grin that widened the longer he looked down at her. She was still damn cute. Actually, she’d gone from cute to pretty at some point in the past ten years. “It’s good to see you, Charlie. Can I take this somewhere for you?” He lifted the table a few inches.
She shot his hands a look of irritation. “I can’t believe you can just tote that thing around like it’s nothing. I had to roll it like a barrel just to get it across the lawn.”
“I see that.” He plucked a few clumps of dirt and grass off the table and lifted it up to his shoulder. “Come on. I’ll take it upstairs.”
“Thanks.”
“After you,” he insisted. She held the door open for him, then started up the stairs to the landing above.
Walker followed right behind, noticing that she was obviously still an athlete. Still slim and tight and strong. But not quite as slim as she’d been in high school. No, now there were hips. And an ass. And black leather boots that hugged her calves. And most of all, there were those awesome skinny jeans showing off all the changes.
Yeah, Charlie was obviously just as nice as she’d always been. But maybe sweeter than ever before.
He glanced at his apartment door as he passed.
She was certainly much closer.
Shit. Maybe this good deed wouldn’t go unpunished, after all.
* * *
“SWEET MOTHER OF everything hot,” Charlie muttered under her breath as she watched Walker Pearce’s biceps flex and bunch as he maneuvered her pine table through the doorway of her apartment. He wore a beat-up gray T-shirt with a Stetson logo on it, tight jeans, ancient boots and a black cowboy hat that threw a shadow over his blue eyes. But that was fine. She didn’t need to see his smiling eyes right now. She was too busy taking in his body.
His shoulders hadn’t been that wide in high school. His arms hadn’t been so thick. And he hadn’t been quite that tall. Jesus, he must be six-four now.
All in all, he looked like a dangerous, forbidden, older-brother version of the Walker she’d once had a crush on. Every butterfly she’d ever felt for him swarmed back to life in an instant, only now their restless wings brushed more sensitive areas. There was no reason for her stomach to feel nervous. After all, that wasn’t the part of her body she wanted Walker to touch.
He set the table down close to the breakfast bar in the kitchen. “Is this good?”
“Oh, that’s definitely good.” She glanced at his left hand to be sure there was no ring. Not that she could imagine Walker married. He’d be a terrible husband. Carefree and aimless and throwing off pheromonal invitations to every ovary in town.
She was still trying to take all