by Marin Thomas
It was after 9:00 p.m. when he stepped outside and spotted her Civic parked by the office. That she was still hanging around the motel this late could mean only one thing—maybe two. She wanted to spend another night with him or she was working on the room designs and lost track of time.
He debated whether to remove the dingy carpet from the rooms or find out why Lydia was still here. His feet made the decision for him and he walked to the office. He understood he wasn’t Lydia’s type, but the night they’d spent in room 2 proved they were the perfect match in bed. If he wanted to keep her around for the summer, he had to find a way to stall the renovations, which would not please his grandfather.
As if his thoughts had summoned the old man, Emmett’s jalopy swung into the lot and Gunner veered off in his direction. Gramps got out of the pickup and hitched his pants.
“Isn’t it past your bedtime?” Gunner asked.
“Don’t be a smart-ass, boy.” He walked over to room 5 and poked his head inside. “That’s all you got done?”
“Lydia had me chasing down supplies today.”
“Tomorrow haul your backside out of bed before noon.”
“What’s the big rush? It’s not like people are standing in line waiting to reserve a room,” Gunner said.
“I’m tired of listening to Amelia bellyache.”
“Why do I have a feeling there’s more between you and Amelia than a difference of opinion on what to do with this town?”
His grandfather’s gaze skipped over Gunner.
“Did you and Amelia butt heads like this in high school?”
Gramps cleared his throat. “No.”
“What does that mean?” Gunner asked.
“We got along fine.”
“Fine as in you had the hots for her?” Gunner teased.
“Mind your own business.”
“Kind of difficult to do when you hoodwinked me into being Lydia’s handyman.”
“You got something more important on your calendar?”
The question pricked Gunner’s pride. “Rodeo was good enough when Logan traveled the circuit. How come it’s not good enough for me?”
“Your brother made a decent living from busting broncs.”
“I’m getting there.” The words rang hollow in Gunner’s head. “I took first place in Rocky Point yesterday.” Not that it meant much, because he didn’t live and die rodeo, so he’d never win the big events.
“Gas money,” his grandfather grumbled.
“I’ve got a ride in Laredo on Thursday. Bigger pot.”
“Your time would be better spent here.”
“The work will get done when it gets done.”
Gramps shot him a dark look, then walked outside.
Gunner didn’t see what all the fuss was about. If Amelia Rinehart wanted to spend her dead husband’s money fixing up an old motel, his grandfather shouldn’t care.
Gramps climbed in behind the wheel and Gunner shut the door. “Drive safe.” And stop checking up on me.
“Was that your grandfather?” Lydia walked toward Gunner.
“He stopped by to check on our progress.”
“What did he think?” She stepped toward room 5, but he blocked her and she bumped into his chest.
“You have pretty hair.” He brushed a strand from her eyes. “You should wear it down more often.” Lydia might act professional, but underneath her all-business-no-play facade, she was every guy’s fantasy.
She shifted away from his touch and his arm fell to his side. A tiny wrinkle formed between her eyebrows after she peeked around him into the room. “I thought you’d have removed the carpets tonight.”
He hated playing the pity card, but if he didn’t do something drastic, she’d bat her eyelashes at him and he’d end up working until midnight. “The carpet has to wait until the kink in my neck goes away. I’m taking a hot shower and then turning in.” He left her and went to flip off the lights and lock the doors.
“But it’s only nine.” She trailed him along the sidewalk. “I was hoping I could talk you into watching a movie with me.”
He entered room 1 and she followed him inside, her gaze taking in the clutter. “It looks like someone’s been living here.”
“Someone does live here.”
“Who?”
For a gal with a college degree, she wasn’t very perceptive. Maybe a lifetime of eating cheese had clogged the arteries supplying blood to her brain. “This is my room.”
“I thought you lived at the ranch with your grandfather and Logan.”
“Not all the time.” Living under the same roof as his grumpy grandfather and bossy brother had motivated Gunner to find other living arrangements when he was in town between rodeos. “What kind of movie is it?”
“I downloaded Stagecoach on my laptop. I need to find a scene from the movie to use as accent wallpaper in room 6.”
He tugged off his T-shirt and tossed it onto the chair in the corner. “Viewing an old Western on a laptop screen doesn’t sound like much fun.”
“But I need a second opinion. And since you’re a cowboy...”
He grinned and shrugged out of his jeans.
Her eyes widened. “What are you doing?”
“Taking a shower.” His fingers went to the waistband of his boxers and she twirled her back to him.
“Can’t you wait until after the movie?”
He chuckled. “I don’t think you want to sit next to me on that bed until I’ve cleaned up.”
“We can watch the movie in the office.”
“If you’re making me suffer through a boring Western, I’m going to be comfortable and stretch my legs out.” He dropped his boxers and went into the bathroom, hoping Lydia would still be around when he finished.
He stepped into the tub and shoved his face beneath the spray. Once he soaped up and rinsed off, he let the water pound against the back of his aching neck. As the muscle pain eased, his thoughts drifted to the day his grandfather had fired Gus, the previous motel manager, and had put Gunner in charge.
“It’s a stupid idea, Grandpa.” Logan glared at Gunner.
“The boy’s got to have an occupation,” Gramps said.
Gunner shoved a forkful of beef hash into his mouth. “I’ve got a profession.”
Logan’s pointer finger came out. “You’re never going to change. You’ll always be a goof-off.” He spoke to their grandfather. “You can’t support Gunner forever. If he needs money, he can feed the cattle, muck the barn or clear debris from the creek.”
“Your brother’s not a rancher. He can’t remember to feed himself, much less a herd of cattle.” Gramps rubbed his whiskered jaw. “You’ve always had a way with charming people.”
Gunner kept a straight face. “Mostly the ladies.”
“I reckon ladies need motel rooms, too.”
“Grandpa!” Logan shoved his fingers through his hair, leaving two tufts sticking up like devil horns. “Don’t give him any ideas or he’ll turn the motel into a bordello.”
“You think you could manage the motel?” Gramps asked.
“How hard can it be?” Gunner asked. “You take a person’s credit card number, give them a room key, and that’s it.”
“What do you do after people check out?” Logan asked.
Gunner shrugged. “Wait for the next person to come along?”
Logan shook his head in disgust.
Gunner loved tormenting his brother—payback for all the times he’d wanted to follow him around after school and Logan had ditched him. If his sibling hadn’t been such a pisser all these years, Gunner might have developed a fondness for cattle ranching.
“Gunner doesn’t have your dedication, Logan.” Gramps stood up and left the room.
“When are you going to grow up and take responsibility for yourself so Grandpa doesn’t have to worry about you?” Logan glared from across the room.
“Have I asked any of you to worry about me?”
“Don’t make Gramps regret this, you hear?”
Gunner turned off the shower and shook his head, spraying the walls with water. Several years had passed since that “discussion” in the kitchen, but the memory had dogged Gunner’s heels every day since, undermining his confidence, making him second-guess himself. And worst of all—Logan had been right. Gunner had been half-assing his job managing the motel, taking advantage of his grandfather’s generosity.
And that wasn’t even the worst of it.
He was growing bored with rodeo—after a while, falling on his ass wasn’t fun. And thanks to meeting Lydia, even the giggling buckle bunnies were losing their appeal.
“Gunner?” Lydia’s voice echoed from the other side of the closed door.
“Yeah.” He stepped from the tub.
“I ordered pizza to eat while we watch the movie. I figured you’d be hungry.”
Stampede didn’t have a pizza business. She must have called someplace in Rocky Point. He knotted a towel around his waist and opened the door. “What kind of pizza?”
“Pepperoni and extra cheese.”
He padded across the floor, then stopped in front of her and tipped her chin up until she looked him in the eye. “How did you know pepperoni and cheese is my favorite?”
“I didn’t. I ordered my favorite.”
“How long before they deliver it?”
“An hour and a half.” Her gaze softened.
Gunner knew what she was thinking—the same as he was. He swooped her into his arms and carried her to the bed...
Two and a half hours later with their bellies full of pizza, Lydia hit the pause button on her laptop, which rested on Gunner’s naked chest. “What do you think of this image?”
Gunner cracked an eye open. “It looks the same as the last one. Horses, mesquite, rocky ground and a blazing sun.”
“Really?” She moved the laptop up his chest, closer to her face. “But the clouds are different.”
“A cloud is a cloud.” He caressed Lydia’s back, more than a little surprised at how right she felt in his bed. In his arms.
“We definitely need to pick a scene with John Wayne riding a horse.” She hit the pause button a second time and the movie continued playing. “This one might work.”
Gunner closed his eyes and breathed in Lydia’s sweet scent. “Have you ever ridden a horse?” he asked her.
“No.”
“You visited your aunt in Texas when you were younger. Didn’t your parents take you on a trail ride?”
“My parents aren’t the outdoorsy type.”
Lydia would look cute in a pair of Wranglers and cowgirl boots. “I could teach you how to ride. We’ve got a couple of old nags out at the ranch.”
She closed the computer and set it aside, then rolled on top of Gunner. “The only stud I’m interested in riding is you.”
* * *
LYDIA WAS ALONE in bed Monday morning when she woke up in Gunner’s room. She stretched against the cool sheets, smiling at the memory of eating pizza and watching a movie in bed with him. When her gaze shifted to the popcorn ceiling, her smile vanished.
She couldn’t keep sleeping with Gunner—she didn’t want their relationship to get in the way of the work that needed to be done at the motel. Then again, she’d love to meet the woman strong enough to turn Gunner down when he wore nothing but a skimpy towel, his bare chest glistening with water drops.
Maybe she was making things more difficult than she needed to. She was a big girl. If she wanted a hot fling with a sexy cowboy while she was in town, then why not? It wasn’t like anything would come of their affair. And just to prove she could remain emotionally detached from Gunner, she turned on the lamp and opened her laptop to check her dating profile. It was only a matter of time before one of the men hit all the marks with her.
She clicked on Jacob4Life. Age thirty-two. Not bad looking. His jaw wasn’t as chiseled as Gunner’s, but he had kind eyes. He enjoyed cycling, not rodeo—that was a plus. He was wearing a dress shirt in his photo, not a tight T-shirt like Gunner wore. Jacob’s hair was neatly combed and trimmed, not shaggy like Gunner’s. He worked in management for a telecommunications company and enjoyed taking his nephews to baseball games. He must like children and want kids of his own—unlike Gunner. Before she lost her nerve, she pinged Jacob back.
On to WorldTraveler5. Age thirty-four. He’d left his height blank, which meant he wasn’t tall. Gunner wasn’t a giant, but in his boots he stood at least six feet. Lydia had no idea how long she’d been studying dating profiles when the door flew open and Gunner waltzed in carrying a box of pastries and two hot coffees. “’Morning, princess.”
She closed the laptop and returned his smile, hoping her warm cheeks didn’t make her look guilty. “How thoughtful of you to bring food.”
He set their breakfast on the nightstand, then removed his shirt.
She gaped. “What are you doing?”
“If we’re eating in bed and you’re not wearing any clothes, then I shouldn’t, either.” He dropped his jeans to the floor but thankfully kept his boxers on and then slid beneath the covers next to her.
“You’re such a goof-off,” she said, his charming behavior winning her over. She had a feeling if she stayed in bed with Gunner, he’d change her mind about a whole lot of things, including the cowboy himself. She handed him a coffee and a doughnut. “I didn’t know Stampede had a bakery.”
“They don’t. I bought these at the Valero down the road.”
Thoughtful and considerate—qualities she was looking for in an online match. He bit into a doughnut and jelly squirted out the side, plopping onto his bare chest.
She scraped the glob off, then stuck her finger into her mouth. “Raspberry.”
“I thought they were cherry filled.” He brushed his mouth against hers and then snuck his tongue inside. “Raspberry. You’re right.” He settled against the headboard, then reached for her laptop. “Which spaghetti Western are you watching now?” When he saw the dating site pop up, he said, “I guess my technique needs some work.”
She cringed. Fling or not, no guy wanted his lover perusing a dating site the morning after.
“He’s too old for you,” Gunner said.
“Who?”
“WorldTraveler5.”
“He’s only eight years older.” She bit into her doughnut. “Besides, I’m ready to have a child right after I get married.”
“If you want a baby that bad, go to a sperm bank.”
“No, thanks. I want to have a baby the traditional way—with a husband.”
He nodded to the laptop. “Older guys are soft around the middle.”
Lydia licked the sugar off her lips as she studied Gunner’s naked chest. “There are plenty of attractive older men.” She wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince him or her.
“Older guys are boring and set in their ways.”
She nudged him with her elbow. “How do you know? Have you dated one?”
Laughter rumbled in his chest. “The dairy princess has a wicked sense of humor.”
She blamed Gunner for bringing out the sass in her.
He reached across her and set his coffee on the nightstand, then did the same with hers. Next he closed the pastry box and leaned over to place it on the other bed. When he straightened, he stared into her eyes.
Any woman who claimed she didn’t enjoy a man devouring her as if she were a piece of food was touched in the head. “Gunner.”
His breath puffed against her face. “What, princess?”
“We have work
to do.”
“Why the rush? The motel isn’t going anywhere.”
“I can’t stay all summer.” I want to, but... “I have to get back to Wisconsin and focus on my business.”
His attention shifted to the laptop next to her thigh and she assumed he thought she was eager to start dating. She held her breath—half hoping he’d storm out the door and half wishing he’d kiss her and make her forget her dating profile.
He kissed her. Thank goodness.
* * *
“WHAT ARE YOU doing here?” Logan asked when he walked into the ranch house and found Gunner sitting at the kitchen table in the middle of the day. “Don’t you have some rodeo to ride in?”
To be honest, Gunner couldn’t think about rodeo or much else since he’d begun sleeping with Lydia. “Have you heard from Reid lately?”
“No. Why?”
Gunner was stalling. “I thought since Gramps isn’t helping out as much around the ranch...”
“You came here to tell me that you don’t think I can handle the ranch?”
Dang, his brother was touchy. “No.” Gunner decided not to beat around the bush. “I need some advice.”
Logan grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. “Advice on finding a real job?”
“Very funny.” Gunner slid his chair back. He should have known his sibling would hassle him.
“Stay right where you are.” Logan sat down at the table. “You drove all the way out here, so spill your guts.”
Now that he had his brother’s ear, Gunner wasn’t sure what kind of guidance he was asking for. Maybe he was just looking for someone to set him straight about Lydia. “I met a girl...a woman I really like.”
“Lydia Canter.”
“How did you know?”
“I ran into Hector at the hardware store in Mesquite. He said you’re sharing your motel room with her.”
“Does everyone know?”
“Maybelle has a big mouth.”
Gunner groaned. “What about Gramps?”
“If he does, he hasn’t said anything to me.”
