The Cowboy's Texas Heart (The Dixons of Legacy Ranch 3)

She turned to him fully now, face alight, eyes glittering, and dangled her keys in the air like she was about to toss a stick for a retriever.

“And they filled the tanks. Up for a spin, Hercules?”

Surprised, Tyler’s brows raised. She wanted to take him for a ride? “Right now?”

She nodded eagerly. “Ride or die. Printed off my temporary insurance already.” She waved a folded piece of printer paper no doubt, from his office, which he’d said she could use if she needed to. She’d used his tool shed, too. She’d taken make-yourself-at-home to heart. Heart. Dammit.

Tyler’s gut kicked with excitement. He stabbed the sentiment with a needle and deflated it.

One glance at his silo, farm damage, wet herd sequestered around the circular trough, needing to get hooked up to the rotolactor soon before they grew uncomfortable, the stack of bank statements he still had to sift through, was all it took to tamp that impulse back down into its box. He had so much to do besides joyride with the girl Toby and Trav were still riding him about, wanting to know who T.R. had said he’d been sucking face with. Texts he was ignoring, which was unlike him. He couldn’t leave the work to his guys. He ought to be right here, alongside them where he always was. He owned this operation and the buck stopped with him.

His life wasn’t his anymore. His chance at chasing freedom was a race already done and lost. She was in his bed for one reason only.

“Don’t you got work to do?” he teased. At least, he hoped it sounded that way.

“Done for the day. Don’t you have to live a little?” she quipped right back. But as if sensing his indecision, she shrugged and smiled. “No worries. I’ll see you later?”

He nodded once and watched her toss her backpack in the back seat and hop up the runner board, rolling the rest of the windows down and firing up the engine.

That telltale purr beneath the hood and tailpipe rumble vibrated into the air. She revved it a couple times, and glancing at his guys, he swore half of them had just orgasmed.

“Back to it!” he barked at them.

She cranked up the Florida-Georgia Line on the Sirius XM radio trial he’d spied on her paperwork, singing along in a pretty voice.

“You get your hands in it, plant your roots in it…”

He landed his stride back to the silo to further stabilize what still remained with the scaffolding they’d been erecting for the restoration team that was arriving next week to give him a repair quote, before the truck’s arrival had interrupted.

He glanced back. She hadn’t driven away yet. He kept walking, and T.R. jogged up beside him and knocked him on the back. Pain lanced through him at the cuts Thad disturbed. He swallowed down the growl of pain.

“What the hell, man?”

Thad furrowed his brow. “You tell me what the hell. Go with her.”

“I got twenty more years of Gram and Gramps’ bank statements to comb through. Calls to return to Fossyl before end of business today. Not to mention all this shit to do and a couple boys who’re gonna be home by Sunday. Thaddeus, I got responsibilities—”

“Don’t. Thaddeus. Me, man. Remember that last time you took a day off?”

“No, why?”

“Exactly.” Tyler fell silent at Thad’s remark. Pumped his jaw. “She likes you.”

Tyler shook his head. “Naw, she doesn’t want an attachment, and neither do I. She flirts with everything that moves.”

“Naw, yourself. Man, you got it bad. Jealous?”

“What the hell does that mean?” Tyler grimaced.

“She called you Hercules.”

“She called you effing T. rex.”

“She was just screwing around with me. But with you? C’mon, tell me you’re not so blind. Hercules? You saved her yesterday. You fucked her the night before. She’s sleeping in your bed. That means something.”

Tyler grimaced at T.R.’s remark. It hadn’t been lovemaking, but it had felt…like something more special than just a screw. “I barely know her.”

“She ain’t flirting with anyone but you, idiot. The way she’s lookin’ at you in her sideview right now, like you’re a can of whipped cream you won’t let her taste, isn’t nothing.”