Free Takin' The Reins by Stacey Coverstone Page A

This is my battle. Hopefully Stillwell got my message today and that’ll be the end of it.”
    He flung open the passenger door. “I’m afraid you’re being naïve, Jordan. You let me know if either of those jerks bothers you again.”
     
    ~ * ~
     
    Back at the Lucky Seven, the two of them stood on her front stoop.
    “Thank you for lunch and for the grand tour around Tulie. It was fun.” She was already calling the town Tulie, the way the locals did, and it felt good.
    “It was my pleasure. I really enjoyed spending the day with you. I hope this is the first of many days we spend together.” He took a step forward, and his longing gaze delved into her.
    Her pulse started to race. “It will be,” she joked, “once you get started on my renovations.”
    “Right.” He nodded and stepped back, evidently realizing he was moving too fast. “I’ll go to my office and get that estimate worked up. I’ll call you with it as soon as I can. If you like the figures, I can get going right away.”
    “Really? That’s terrific, but I don’t expect you to drop your other jobs for me.”
    “Things are a bit slow. I need the work. You do have the money to pay, right?”
    She liked the way he teased. “Yes, I have the money.”
    “Okay then.” He held out his hand and they shook. His grip was firm and warm. “I’ll call soon.”
    “Goodbye, Cole. And thanks again.” When he walked away, she sniffed the air, aware of how delicious his scent was, and then scolded herself for being so physically drawn to him. Even if she was ready to date again—and she wasn’t—she didn’t see him as the settling down type. It wasn’t wise to fool around with fire. She was afraid there weren’t enough firemen in Tularosa to put out the kind of blaze Cole was liable to start when he set out to woo a woman.
     
    ~ * ~
     
    After a simple dinner, Jordan walked around the house holding paint samples up to the walls. She wanted her rooms to be the colors of the desert, the sky and the sun. When the phone rang she dashed to it, expecting it to be Cole with the estimate. He’d said he’d call soon. She grabbed the phone on the second ring.
    “Hello.”
    “How are ya?” The familiar voice was deep, soft and sexy. She smiled.
    “I’m fine. How are you?” She hopped onto a bar stool.
    “Just marvelous. What are you doing right now?”
    “Choosing paint colors for my walls. What are you doing, Brannigan?”
    He sighed. “Sitting here wishing I was visiting with a pretty lady such as yourself.”
    Jordan’s heart fluttered. A picture formed in her mind. Wyatt reclining in a comfortable leather chair with his long legs stretched onto a hassock, cradling the phone in the crook of his neck as he petted his dog.
    “I’ve been thinking about you,” he drawled.
    “Is that so?” She tried to keep her voice from trembling, but something about him sparked her. Her chest began to rise and fall.
    “It is.” There was a moment of silence. If it was his plan to keep her guessing, it was working.
    “And?”
    “I was wondering if you’ve made plans for tomorrow.”
    “No,” she replied, a bit too quickly.
    “Good. I was thinking I’d come over early in the morning and we could get started mucking out those stalls. The sooner we get that done, the sooner I can bring over your horses.”
    He was calling about the horses? Frowning with disappointment, she mumbled, “Okay. Sure. Tomorrow morning will be fine. But let’s get one thing straight.”
    “What’s that?”
    “I insist on paying you for your help.”
    “Please. Don’t insult me, lady.” His voice still carried the same amiable quality.
    “Don’t argue, Brannigan. Of course I’m going to pay. I’m not a charity case.”
    He laughed. “I know that. I’m volunteering. That’s why they call it help, Jordan. I don’t know how things were handled in Denver, but that’s what neighbors do around here.”
    She hemmed and hawed. “You must have other things—more