Free Solid Gold Seduction (The Drakes of California) by Zuri Day

nothing in life is free.”
    “Fine. I’ll talk to him, set up some kind of payment arrangement.”
    “Have you considered that money may not be the means of exchange he has in mind?”
    The question gave her pause. “What are you saying?”
    Silence once again. But no matter. The look that he gave her spoke volumes.
    “We’re keeping those cattle, Griff. Whatever the payment, we’ll work it out.”
    “You take those cows and your grandfather is liable to not only turn over in his grave, but to jump up out of it.”
    “Well, if he does,” Charli said after a long pause, “then he can take the cows to Drake!”

Chapter 15
    C harli swore that the only reason she’d changed into her nice jeans and pink ruffled top was because of the shift in the weather, and that she wore gloss because her lips were dry. Her hair, well, a girl had to wash it sometimes, right? It hung wild and loose, the curls swinging around her face as she bounced down the road in her trusty pickup, and after much argument and cajoling, one of Griff’s freshly made apple pies sat in the passenger seat.
    She turned into the Drake driveway and saw a flurry of activity happening up ahead. Her stomach fluttered. Maybe I should have called. But at the exact moment she thought to turn around, Warren looked up. And waved. No way to back out now. She parked next to a shiny new SUV, reached for the pie and jumped down from the cab before nonstop thoughts made her lose her nerve. Before she cleared her truck bed, Warren had broken away from the group of men and was walking her way.
    “Hello.”
    It was just a word, but the way he delivered it made her want to see the eyes hidden behind dark shades. He looked manly and rugged, adapting to the countryside in his beat-up jeans and cowboy boots. Who was this buckaroo, and what happened to the tux-wearing, diamond stud-sporting Fred Astaire she’d danced with two weeks ago?
    “Thank you.”
    Warren removed his glasses, looked down at the box she held and then back at her. “You’re welcome.”
    “This is for you.” Charli held out the pie box and cursed herself for the breathy way she was talking, the way her hands were shaking, and the way her heart was getting ready to beat right out of her chest.
    He took the box. Their fingers touched. Sparks flew. Muscles clenched in hidden places.
    “Did you make this?” he asked, raising the lid and sniffing the contents.
    “No. Griff is the main cook in the house. But I can hold my own,” she added, lest he think that she couldn’t boil an egg.
    “It smells delicious.”
    “It is.” A brief, awkward silence and then, “Why’d you do it?”
    “Buy the cows?” He shrugged. “You lost one. I saw the sign.” She frowned. “It’s Thursday and I’m in a good mood. Heck, I don’t know! I didn’t think about it. I just did it.”
    “I can’t accept them as a gift, you know.”
    Warren’s expression changed from one of relaxed camaraderie to mild frustration. “No, I don’t know.”
    Charli swallowed, trying to find courage in the face of his stare. “If you’ll just tell me how much you paid for them, I can set up a plan to pay you back.”
    Warren’s eyes narrowed. “Does this have anything to do with the beef—no pun intended—that supposedly happened between our grandfathers? Because I can’t think of any other reason that you’d act this ungrateful.”
    No, he didn’t just talk to me like I was twelve. Anger flashed, hot and immediate. Charli was thankful. Anger was good. Anger would put her back in a place that was familiar and take her out of the murky emotional waters that she was now treading.
    “How dare you! I am not ungrateful! I came over here to thank you, to show my appreciation, the expression of which you are now holding in your hands!”
    “What I’m holding is a pie that somebody else made. So it would seem that Griff is thankful. Am I to assume that he speaks for you?”
    How in the world was what she thought could be