Wrangling His Best Friend’s Sister: Beckett Brothers Book One
Page 11
"Wait, what?" Ava choked on her wine, coughing.
Bran burst out laughing so loudly that people in the chairs around them turned to stare. "Well," he said, gesturing toward the stage where Hunter stood looking beyond miserable, "she’s about to win him, unless Nadine’s ready to cough up five hundred dollars."
"I have four hundred and seventy-five dollars for our fine local veterinarian and a picnic in sheep country," the auctioneer said. "Do I hear five hundred? Miss Nadine?"
Nadine’s Dolly Parton blonde bouffant wiggled on top of her head, looking precariously close to falling right off.
"Well, I don’t know," Nadine said loudly, drawing out the words in her best Texas twang. "He’s a mighty fine specimen, but I do get to see him every week for free when he comes in to the diner for breakfast with Bran."
The crowd laughed, and the auctioneer continued. "All right, folks, we have a bid of four hundred seventy-five dollars…"
Kit looked at her boss right as he looked at her. Their eyes met, and she saw the desperation there. She also saw the hard jaw, perfect scruff, and very nice pecs under his t-shirt.
"Going once!" the auctioneer called.
Kit’s lips began to move before her brain had a chance to step in.
"Going twice…"
"Five hundred!" she hollered, shocking herself as much as anyone else in the room. Ava squeaked, and Bran swore under his breath. "I’ll bid five hundred," Kit repeated, much more quietly this time.
"I have five hundred from the lovely lady in row three," the auctioneer said with a wink at Kit. "Do I hear five twenty-five?"
Eunice shook her head, staring daggers at Kit.
"Five hundred going once, five hundred going twice…"
Kit’s heart flipped over once inside her chest.
"Sold! To the blonde in row three."
Dear God. What had she done?
* * *
Hunter Beckett stomped off stage as the auctioneer moved on to the next bachelor. What in God’s name had his new resident been thinking? She’d hardly been here a week, he barely knew her, but he would have thought it would be standard practice not to bid on your boss at a bachelor auction. What would the state board think?
It was bad enough they were all up in his business with their requirements that he supervise residents. That had forced him to take Kit on, and now he was stuck with one of the sexiest women he’d ever laid eyes on. She was in his office, in his exam rooms, and in his life for the next three months. He’d started counting the days until she’d be done the moment she’d walked in and he’d forgotten how to breathe.
But now he was supposed to take her on a date? He felt certain that was not what the board had in mind with their requirements. And it definitely wasn’t what he had in mind for his life right now. He didn’t date for a reason—he was far too busy taking care of every animal in the county along with his brothers.
He made his way off the stage and headed straight for the buffet table, where a metal bucket full of ice and bottles of Bud Light was calling his name in the worst way.
"Well, if it isn’t the star of the auction." His brother Bran appeared, slapping him on the shoulder harder than necessary.
"I hate this auction, and I’m never agreeing to it again," Hunter answered, popping the cap off a bottle of beer and chugging half in one long swallow.
"But you made five hundred dollars for the library. My kid thanks you. The library’s about the only place we can get Cam to sit still. If I could move the whole building to the ranch, I would."
Hunter leaned against the wall next to the buffet table and sighed. What a clusterfuck this night had become.
"So, uh, what’s up with you and Kit?" Bran asked with a grin. "She sure did jump in there to save your ass. And for a pretty penny, too."
Hunter took another long draft from his beer. "Nothing’s up. She could tell I was about to be sacrificed to a woman who thinks her dog prefers RuPaul to a normal vet. She did the only decent thing. My sister-in-law could’ve tried the same tactic.” He gave his brother some side-eye. “You know, if she really cared about me."
Bran threw his head back and laughed as Hunter scowled at him. "You didn’t tell us to rescue you, or we’d have been happy to oblige. Plus, Eunice and her bulldog together don’t come close to outweighing you, so I wasn’t too concerned."
"I was," Hunter muttered. Then he saw Ava and Kit approaching, and to his extreme consternation, his stomach fluttered—fucking fluttered—like a butterfly. It had been doing that same thing since the first time he’d seen her. This was entirely unacceptable, and not much that was unacceptable made its way into Hunter’s world.
"Hi, there," Ava said, leaning in and kissing Hunter’s cheek before Bran snaked a possessive arm around her waist.
"Hey," Hunter said, looking at Kit instead of his sister-in-law.
"So, uh…" Kit looked as uncomfortable as Hunter felt. Her cheeks were flushed pink, and her blue eyes had an unfocused quality that told him she’d been drinking.
"I guess you rescued me," he said, giving her a small smile.
"Yes! Yes, that’s what I was explaining to Ava and Bran. I couldn’t let you get pulled into the bulldog-drag-queen net again. That woman’s relentless."
Ava and Bran moved farther down the length of the table, Bran reaching for another beer and Ava filling a bowl with Chex mix.
"Well, I appreciate it. I’ll have the office reimburse you. I should have set it up for one of the staff to buy me, anyway. I can write it off the taxes, and it saves…well, it’s just easier all the way around," he finished, polishing off his beer with only the third draft.
"Oh, no," Kit said, looking at him earnestly. "You don’t have to do that. I would have made a donation to the library anyway. I just loved the library when I was growing up."
Hunter’s stomach did more of that fluttering thing, and it was all he could do not to run out the door and keep on going until he hit the Oklahoma state line.
Suddenly, a tremendous crash sounded, and several women screamed. Hunter threw out an arm in front of Kit to prevent her from moving until he could see what was happening.
“Percy’s llama is loose!” someone yelled from the behind the stage, swiftly followed by another crash.
Kit’s eyes grew wide as she looked at Hunter.
“Well, hell,” he muttered before setting his empty bottle on the table next to him. “I guess you can come along,” he told Kit, “might as well meet Lorenzo, just in case you ever see him sauntering down Main Street.”
This, Hunter thought as he made his way to the back of the stage to corral the angry llama, this was why he had no time for women.
Wrangling His Sexy Assistant
Available July 25 2019
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BLURB
Ian Grant isn’t a man who accepts help easily. After promising his young son that he could participate in the strawberry festival, and then missing the admittance deadline, Ian’s in a bind and forced to ask the mayor for a favor. The mayor agrees, on one condition: his niece has run into hard times and needs a safe place to stay: Ian’s place to stay. She’s great with kids and Ian needs someone to look after his rambunctious son Andy while he ranches. Ian agrees, expecting some college-aged girl who’d flunked Algebra. Instead, he finds a full-grown woman—a beautiful and sassy one to boot.
Katie Rylie has always dreamed of helping others by teaching them to cook. Her online persona was thriving—until a scandal with her forthcoming cookbook rocked her career. Not only did she have to pay back the entire advance, but her once-loyal fan base has turned against her. Defeated and with nowhere to go, Katie feels it’s better to hide out in the country until she can get her life back together. The offer of a free home, an open range, and a wily six-year-old to focus on sounds like just the escape she needs.
When Andy’s diet restrictions force Katie to become creative in the kitchen, she finds herself drawn back into the food world, just as she’s
falling in love with Ian and Andy. But Ian, who likes having control of everything, doesn’t know how to ask Katie to become a permanent part of their lives.
If their love is ever going to work, Ian and Katie will need to learn that having it all doesn’t mean giving anything up.
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* * *
EXCERPT
CHAPTER ONE
The summer was shaping up to be one for the records, Ian reckoned. He could smell it in the air, feel the extra electricity crackling. On the Grant Ranch, left to him after the crash that killed both of his parents, Ian was careful to look after the state of the land. It was going to be hot as well as dry, and fires were a real danger. They were what he needed to be spending his worrying on: the fires, the cattle. Instead, he was standing in front of the courthouse and trying to talk himself into stepping inside.
“Not taking off my damned hat,” he muttered grimly. Talking to himself in the middle of the sidewalk wasn’t the brightest idea, but he wasn’t feeling particularly bright. He was feeling more like putting his fist through the wall. Everything in him told him to turn around and climb back into his truck, to get back to the ranch where things made sense and his presence was actually useful.
“Stop it,” he growled to himself, arming the sweat off his brow and starting up the courthouse steps. It was for his son he was making this trip. For Andy, six years old and only starting to feel back to himself this week.
Ian liked living in Canyon, Texas, most all of the time. It was a small place, only 16,000 people give or take. The kind of town where people could still leave their doors unlocked and kids rode bikes down back roads without parents worrying about them being snatched up. It was his town, the place he’d lived his whole life. He liked most everything about it but the doctors and the hellhole that passed for a hospital. Those doctors hadn’t done a thing while his wife wasted away with the cancer that came on fast as lightning and ate her up from the inside out. He wouldn’t have taken Andy at all if he’d thought he could help it, only the kid had been in so much pain; his hands clapped over his ears and his head rocking back and forth. The doctors performed surgery, putting tubes in his ears, and Ian had spent the last three weeks of Andy’s recovery white knuckling it, ready to knock out the first doctor who even looked at him the wrong way. He had been too busy worrying himself to keep track of what he needed to be doing, and he had messed up. That was why he was here; to right a wrong. For Andy.
“Hey there, Grant,” Bobby, the courthouse’s one security guard greeted in his slow drawl.
“Bobby,” Ian answered, tipping his hat in salutation. The two men stood there sizing each other up for a minute, Bobby eyeing Ian’s hat and Ian waiting to tell him he wasn’t going to take it off. Bobby must have sensed his fighting mood, because after a second, he shook his head and waved him on through. Ian sauntered down one corridor and up another until he reached the door with “Mayor Clark” embossed across it in gilded gold letters. Ian clenched his jaw, took a deep breath, and rapped his knuckles on the door twice, hard and fast.
“Enter.” Clark’s voice sounded unforgivably pompous. Ian remembered being a kid when Mayor Clark and his daddy had been friends. Back then, his face had always been red with too much beer, and people called him Bubba instead of Mayor.
“Howdy, Mayor,” he said, letting himself in the office and shutting the door behind him. Mayor Clark sat behind an enormous mahogany desk, his ample sides spilling over the arms of his desk chair. His face was still red, specifically his nose, and Ian guessed the man had moved from his beer habit to hard liquor a while back. When he looked up, though, he looked genuinely pleased to see Ian, and Ian guessed that was a good thing. He was here to ask the big man a favor, after all. He hated asking for favors, but he was going to do it, by God.
“Ian Grant!” Mayor Clark exclaimed, moving as if to get up but only making it half-way before giving up and extending his hand for a shake, “As I live and breathe. Didn’t expect to see you here today, son. How the hell are ya?”
“I’m good, Mayor. Happy you had the time,” Ian answered, shaking Clark’s hand before settling uneasily onto one of the guest chairs. Clark rolled his eyes and made a waving off gesture.
“No need for all of that, Ian. I’ve known you since you were still in diapers. Just call me Bubba. That’ll do me just fine.”
“Don’t think I can do that, Mayor, especially when I’m here to ask for a favor.”
“Are you now?” Mayor Clark asked, leaning back in his chair and causing the thing to groan loudly in protest. “Why don’t you tell me what it is?”
“It’s about my boy,” Ian went on, “it’s about Andy.”
“Anything I can do, it’s done. I have to tell you, I’ve been meaning to drop in on you two, see how you’re faring with everything so different, and then with Andy being in the hospital. I’m ashamed of myself for letting things go this long,” he said, shaking his head. Whether it was genuine or not, he certainly did look sorry.
“Don’t trouble yourself. I’m just here to ask you if there’s any way you can help get Andy into the Strawberry Fest. I know the deadlines passed and I’m sick about not registering him. Only with the hospital stay these last three weeks, it plain slipped my mind. The thing is, I told him while he was in there that once he was healed, he’d get to be a part of the Strawberry Fest. I guess you could say it was a bribe and now I can’t make good.”
“Say no more. I’ve got the schedule right here, and I happen to know for a fact that there’s one slot open. It’s in—” He broke off, rummaging through his mounds of crap until he landed on the paper he was looking for. He squinted, scanned down the length of it, then nodded his approval.
“Did you find something?” Ian asked. Mayor Clark waited for a beat more, then looked up and grinned.
“I sure did. One slot left in the cooking area. Think your boy would be interested in that?”
“I can’t say he’s had much experience, but I’ll say yes. It’s a hell of a lot better than not being there at all,” Ian answered, more grateful than he was comfortable admitting. He watched Andy’s name being penciled in and when it was done, Ian leaned back in his chair and actually sighed with relief. As it turned out, the relief was premature.
“So,” the mayor continued, “now that that’s done, let me ask you a question.”
“Sure,” Ian asked, immediately on his guard again, “shoot.”
“I heard through the grapevine that Carol just retired. Any truth to that?” Mayor Clark asked. His voice was too careful, too nonchalant. That was never a good sign.
“That’s true, she did. She deserves it. She’s worked hard for my family for a long time.”
“She sure did. A hell of a housekeeper,” the mayor agreed, nodding profusely.
“She was more than a housekeeper. She’s like family,” Ian contradicted, bristling a little at the comment. Mayor Clark held up both hands in a surrender gesture and nodded agreement.
“I have no doubt. She’s a fine woman, Carol is. And I assure you, I don’t mean to pry. I only ask because there’s something I would love for you to do for me if you can find it in your heart.”
“Say the word,” Ian answered, crossing his arms over his chest. This was why you didn’t ask for help. It always came with strings attached. But if there was a price to be paid for having the chance to keep his word to his son, he’d pay it—whatever it was.
“It’s about my niece, Katie. She’s fallen onto some hard times, and I would love to help her out. With getting her confidence back, you understand. She’s on the way to becoming a fine woman herself if we can steer her in the right direction.”
“What can I do to help?” He asked, trying to ignore that last “we.” He didn’t even know what good ‘ol Bubba wanted yet, and already it was “we.” More trouble than it was worth, without a doubt.
“I was thinking maybe she could come to stay at the ranch
for a while, try to learn how to fill Carol’s shoes. She’s a fine cook, and she’s got a tender heart. She could be a big help with your boy; I can promise you that. What do you say?”
And because he had already accepted the man’s damn help, because there was nothing else he could say, Ian said yes.
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