Chapter Nine
“How can you manage that pack? It looks as if it weighs as much as a hippo.”
Wydell shot Anya a sideways grin. “It weighs less than most crap I carried through the desert.” He waited for the tightening of his chest he always got when he spoke of war, but it didn’t come. For now, he was living in the moment and that was with Anya. He’d still have problems later, but he wasn’t going to borrow trouble. It’d find him soon enough.
She picked her way over the scrubby undergrowth. Did she realize her hips swayed like that even when she hiked? He appreciated her curvy legs, the thick hair lying in waves on her shoulders—and everything between.
“There’s something I’ve been meaning to say to you, but you kept distracting me last night.”
She glanced over her shoulder. “I distracted you?”
Snagging her around the waist with an arm, he lifted her off her feet and planted her beside him. “Yes, you do distract me.”
With her fingers curled into the front of his shirt and her eyes so wide and blue as she looked into his, he didn’t think he’d ever find more happiness. “What did you want to say?” she asked a little breathlessly.
He sobered. “It’s about yesterday in the house.”
A shadow crossed her beautiful face.
“I’m sorry I walked out and didn’t say anything to you, sweetheart. I regretted it the instant I did it.”
“Wydell—”
“No, it was wrong. You deserve to be held and kissed and told what a wonderful woman you are after sharing what we did.” Her eyes lidded at his words. Leaning in, he whispered, “And how tight your pussy is when it squeezes me.”
A breath expelled from her, and he couldn’t resist kissing her. For long minutes he plundered her mouth, taking the treasure of her little moans and the damp press of her denim-clad pussy against his palm. When she winced, he removed his hand. “You’re sore.”
“Nothing I can’t recover from with the help of a big cock.”
“Damn, who knew a beauty queen could have such a dirty mouth?”
“We all do,” she shot back with a flash of her eyes. “It’s a little-known secret of the pageant life.”
He caught her hands and stared down at her. “I really am sorry for walking out on you.”
“I shouldn’t have ridden you so much about sticking to the small house plans. I have to admit that the space is nice.”
“Really?”
She started up the trail again, but he drew her back to his side. If anybody was startling a rattlesnake while walking, it would be him. Around the rocks and especially near the caves, there were more dangers. But he wanted her to see the beauty and mystery of the caves. It was also a sort of induction into his lifetime family. The guys and Danica had been part of it forever, but Anya belonged there with them.
He waggled his brows. “You liked the new house addition because of the orgasm I gave you there.”
A smile crept across her face. “No, it was definitely the skylight.”
He pinched her bottom, and she squealed.
“It’s a nice addition. I don’t think we should add one onto every home we build, but maybe each house doesn’t need to be a cookie cutter version of the last.”
Excitement flooded him. “I have so many ideas I’d like to explore.”
“And I don’t want to hold you back. Have you ever thought of going back to school for architecture?”
He waved a hand. “That tank has rolled out. I have no desire for schooling. Besides, I can’t imagine being trapped behind a desk.”
“It’s true, you’re too much of a cowboy for that.”
He grinned. “I’d like to get enough money from my cut of the house sales to rebuild my own house on my family’s land.”
“Will your family come back to live in it?”
For a long heartbeat, he stared into her eyes. “No, we’d live in it. I want you with me, Anya.”
Her mouth fell open.
“I know you have a mansion somewhere and probably several summer homes but I’d like you to stay here with me.”
“Wydell…”
“I can’t give you a huge place with marble floors, but I can give you a lot more space than your Airstream. I’ll even give you a built-in flower vase.”
Tears filled her eyes, brimmed and spilled down her cheeks, and his chest burned. If she turned him down, they’d have just taken ten steps back. And all he wanted from now on was to move forward. To rebuild Los Vista with her at his side and lead a life of the peace he and his friends had fought for.
He waited. Wydell’s insides felt watery. He’d walked into the sights of the enemy without flinching but one little blonde vixen scared the hell out of him. His future hinged on her answer.
“When I drove into Los Vista, I had an overwhelming sense of coming home. I’ve never felt that way before. My home growing up, my grandparents’ homes…they’re all nice but something about this town…” She waved her hands as if trying to capture the essence of the place that was dear to them all. “I can’t explain it.”
He grasped her hands and lightly squeezed her fingers. “I know the feeling.”
They studied each other in silence before she gave a nod. “I know you do. And that you want to share it with me…” She choked on a sob and threw her arms around his neck.
Heart giving a wild leap of joy, he plucked her off her feet, his own throat closing with emotion. She’d just given him the world—and something to work harder for.
* * * * *
“I’m looking forward to a bath.” Anya pulled her sticky hair off her neck for the tenth time in as many minutes. Wydell had produced a bandanna from his bag, which she’d tied around her forehead Rambo-style. But somewhere she’d lost the only hair tie she’d brought with her and had been longing for it ever since.
“In your little trailer shower or one of those soup bowls you call a bathtub?”
She groaned. “Either sounds blissful. Right now I’d take a cattle tank.”
“There used to be a bit of water down by the caves but it’s been dry lately. We’ll be home in another hour if we walk hard.”
Throwing a glance at her big, brawny Marine, she wondered at his stamina. He was like a machine, able to walk and work—and love—nonstop.
She was still a little sore but couldn’t deny how appealing it would be to crawl into bed with him again. When he was around, she couldn’t keep her thoughts from drifting that direction.
With a boost of energy, she picked up the pace. He easily matched it as if he’d been lagging to keep her company. He probably had.
“When do you want to sit down with the plans for our house?”
“As soon as we finish the hamster homes.”
She laughed and shook her head.
“Anya, I want to talk to you about something but I don’t want to offend you.”
She slowed again. “Okaaaay.”
“It’s about building this house together. I want it bad. And I’m eager to get started too. But I want to do it with my own money.”
Her feet stopped as if their batteries had suddenly run out. “What?”
“I know you’re loaded, sweetheart. But I don’t want to use your money to build the house we share.”
That puzzled her. “Wh…why not?”
“I want to earn it. My cut of the vacation homes will give us a start.” His jaw was set—he wasn’t going to budge on this idea of his.
“Look, I get it. You want the pride of doing it yourself. But if my money can make things easier—”
He cut her off. “Anya, please don’t fight me on this.”
She shut her mouth and quickened her pace. She’d had it with arguing with Wydell. And she was sick and tired of people telling her what to do—and not do—with her money.
When he clasped her shoulder and spun her to face him, all the pent-up frustration inside her was finally unleashed. “Do you know what the papers are saying about me helping you here in Los Vista? Do you?”
He blinked, startled by her question. “What’s that have to do with anything?”
“Everything! Do you know what they’re saying?”
He shook his head.
“That I’m gullible. Tricked into coming here and investing in something that is a waste of my grandparents’ hard-earned money. I’m sick and tired of having no say and being told I don’t have enough brains to make smart choices.”
“I never said you don’t have enough brains.”
“No, but you won’t let me help, either. We’ll be starting this journey of our lives—of our relationship—on separate paths. How can it ever work?”
She started walking, and he let her go. After she’d gone a few paces, he flanked her again, a solid wall of man who wasn’t going to back down from this fight. But when he spoke, she was surprised by what she heard.
“You’re right. I’m wrong to want to do this on my own.”
“Damn right you are.”
“I didn’t know people were saying these things about you. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Maybe both of us tend to keep things bottled up until they blow.”
His warm, rough hand enveloped hers, and she automatically swayed closer to him, walking so near that their bodies bumped.
“You’re smart enough to make any decision you want to. I won’t hold you back, Anya.”
Her eyes prickled. “Thank you for saying that.”
“Just speaking the truth.”
“You know any profits I make on the tiny homes is my hard-earned money, right? It’s not my grandparents’.”
His gaze burned into hers. “But your grandparents saw the strength and intelligence in you or they wouldn’t have left their legacy to you.”
A tear escaped her lashes, and she brushed it away. “It’s nice to hear you say that. It means a lot to me.”
They walked in silence for another quarter mile. Finally, he said, “If you think I’m letting you build us a birdhouse to share, though, you’re going to encounter a whole other argument.”
She burst out laughing, imagining a man like Wydell confined to a small place. “No, what I envision for us is a wide front porch and a beautiful view. Open floor plans and enough room for you to sprawl out.”
“Mmm. Sprawl out with you.”
Liquid heat rolled through her lower belly. Suddenly she couldn’t wait to get into that cramped shower with him. They walked on. The last stretch of road felt farther away than ever. By the time she spotted their trucks parked at the trail head, her knees threatened to collapse out of pure relief.
Wydell slung his bag into the back of his vehicle and dug out a canteen of freshly filtered water. He handed it to Anya, and she gulped the water down. When she lowered the canteen, she realized he was staring at her.
She smiled, and he returned it. All seemed settled and at ease between them.
“Don’t you think it’s funny how no matter how many times we argue, we always work it out?” she said.
“That’s because fighting is our foreplay, sweetheart.”
She jerked, understanding settled over her from head to toe. Recounting the battles in her head, she saw flashes of his eyes and the way his big hands had clenched into fists. Damn, he did look hot as hell when he was angry. She wondered if he felt the same about her.
Glancing down his hard body, her attention snagged on the bulge in the front of his jeans. She twitched her attention back to his face and his wide smile.
“I’ve been sporting wood ever since our last argument.”
Despite the heat of the day, she shivered at his words. “Maybe you’ll bend me over this here tailgate,” she said sweetly, sidling his direction.
He grabbed her before she could fully think about the beast she’d roused. In a blink he had her jeans around her knees and his cock buried deep.
Yeah, they were going to have a very interesting life.
* * * * *
The minute Wydell spotted the group of vehicles parked neatly around Anya’s silver Twinkie, he knew she had company. Film crews or newspaper people wouldn’t have taken the time to parallel park behind her trailer. The make and models told him there was money involved. These were her people.
Driving in front of him, she slowed her truck. He braked. She came to a dead stop a long distance from her temporary home.
That can’t be good. He put his truck in park and climbed out. Her driver’s window was down and her hair mussed from the breeze that had washed through her truck. What he wouldn’t have given to be riding with her, to see those golden locks floating free around her beautiful face.
He reached in and cupped her cheek. As if waking from a trance, she turned her focus to him.
“What is it?” he asked.
“My parents are here. And my financial advisor.”
He pivoted his head to stare in that direction. “What are they doing here?”
“No idea.”
“Well let’s go find out.”
She turned her cheek into his palm, closing her eyes for a brief second. When she directed her attention to the road again, she nodded. Took a deep breath. Hell, this couldn’t be good if she was rallying herself just to talk to them.
“Anya.”
She stared at him.
“I’m right behind you.”
She nodded again. He started back to his truck when an engine noise barreled at them from behind. Fuck, they were in the middle of the road. He opened his mouth to yell to Anya to drive, but the truck screeched to a halt next to Wydell.
It took only a second for him to see that Brodie was driving, his eyes wilder than he’d ever seen even in battle. Danica was beside him, her eyes red and her face wet with tears. She was covered in a blanket.
“What happened?” Wydell asked, feeling his adrenaline hit.
“Taking her to the hospital. It’s the baby.”
Fucking hell. It was way too soon for the baby. It couldn’t be good news. “Get there safe, you hear?” Brodie nodded. Reaching through the window, Wydell touched Danica’s shoulder. “It’s gonna be okay.”
A fresh sob broke from her, nearly cracking Wydell’s heart in two. She’d lost so much. First her brother, then her parents checking out mentally and emotionally for months following Matt’s death. She’d just found a bright ray of happiness with Brodie, and now…
He walked back to Anya, who hadn’t moved.
“What’s happening?” she asked.
“Danica might be losing the baby.”
She pasted her hand over her mouth, her eyes filled with grief for her friend. Wydell realized just how much of a part of them Anya had become.
“We can’t do anything for them right now. Why don’t we go down and talk to your people?”
“I should go to the Kents’ first. Let them know to send up some prayers,” she said.
It didn’t surprise him that she was thinking of other people rather than whatever potential crisis awaited her.
He removed her hand from her steering wheel and brushed his lips over her knuckles. “Hey, we’re in this together.”
A smile ghosted across her lips. “I know.”
They trundled into town like a funeral procession. Wydell couldn’t stop seeing Brodie’s haunted expression. After parking, he got out and threw Anya a look and jerked his thumb toward the Kents’, letting her know he was going to take care of things there.
She waved at him and slowly approached her Airstream. If there really were three people inside waiting for her, he wasn’t in any hurry to join them. Being confined with Anya was fine, but adding more people to the mix was out of the question.
The church construction project was progressing very well. The frame was up, and three workers hung off the roof, where they were fashioning the base of a steeple. Anya had spared no expense, but he knew she didn’t care about the money. Her passion was helping and seeing people happy again.
With a heavy heart, he broke the news to Pastor Kent and his wife. They joined hands and said a prayer right then and there for the young mother and child, as well as the man who was their rock, who’d supported them through the toughest of times.
When Wydell left the Kents’, his eyes were damp. He looked toward the park where Matt’s monument stood and had a quick word with the spirit of his friend to do what he could.
Then he went to the door of the Airstream and opened it.
It was just as he’d thought. Too many people inside, stuffed like sardines. He almost closed the door again, but Anya’s eyes appealed for him to come in.
Drawing in the last deep breath he’d probably take for a while, he mounted the steps and entered the cool space. Anya filled his hand with her small one, and they faced the three people seated in the booth.
One was very obviously her mother—an older, paler version of Anya. Her hair was thick and piled on top of her head. She wore false eyelashes and perfect lipstick. But she also wore a wary smile.
A warning for a roughneck like Wydell to stay away from her daughter?
Two men started out of their seats, and Wydell said, “Don’t bother standing. There isn’t room.”
Anya elbowed him deep in the ribs, and he burst out laughing. “Momma, Daddy, Marty, this is Wydell Jackson. He’s the construction manager.”
A man with silver hair narrowed his eyes at their joined hands. Her father. The financial advisor wouldn’t care if he was touching Anya.
He released her hand long enough to lean forward and shake all three of theirs, looking them each in the eyes as he did.
An awkward silence fell over them until the father cleared his throat. “You’re doing a fine job with the vacation houses, Mr. Jackson.”
He wanted to smile at the formality. This would take some getting used to. After rubbing elbows with soldiers in the desert for years, and roughing it in Los Vista since coming home, his manners were rusty.
“Thank you. Call me Wydell, please.”
The mother spoke up. “We’re sorry to see what’s happened to your town, Wydell.” Her tone oozed with culture. No wonder Anya took offense when people thought of her as the beauty queen—she’d escaped all those silly trappings better than Wydell had thought. Even if she did display them on occasion, he didn’t mind. He loved her as she was.
“Thank you. It’s been an adventure. Before Anya came to town, I didn’t even know that tiny homes are all the rage.”
“It seems Garrett and Boyd have been working hard while we were out of town.” Anya eyed him, letting him know she’d told them they were a couple.
“I’d like to go up and see what they’ve done.” He shifted his shoulders, his shirt feeling too tight, the space compressing him.
She picked up on his distress right away. “Yes, let’s all go to the site. We can all get some air. Then we can swing by and see how things are progressing with the new church.”
“Church?” The advisor asked with raised eyebrows. Wydell almost laughed. The man who was supposedly overseeing and giving advice on Anya’s money didn’t have any idea that she’d spent some of it to build Los Vista’s new church—as well as help the pastor’s family. But the man seemed to rally quickly enough. “That will make an excellent deduction.”
As they all piled out of the Airstream, Wydell took a moment to squeeze Anya’s waist. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
“What do they want?”
“They were concerned that I hadn’t answered Marty’s messages. I guess my parents had been calling as well, but…” She blushed. “…I’ve been ignoring the outside world. Someone was distracting me.”
He planted a kiss smack-dab on her lips. She melted into him, but he pulled back in time to see her parents exchanging a look. He had no idea if he was up against a wealthy mommy and daddy who wanted to choose their daughter’s spouse from someone at the country club, or if they’d allow her free rein.
Either way, Anya wasn’t the type of woman to let somebody make those choices for her.
He slipped his arm around her waist and they all set out toward the construction site. Marty walked beside him and Anya, asking questions about this new church she’d mentioned.
“Is this why you haven’t been returning my calls, Anya?” Marty asked in an amused tone.
“No, though I’m quite capable of writing out a check by myself. I’ve just been busy.”
“So I see.” He nodded toward her and Wydell.
She shot Marty a conspiratorial smile. “Be honest. Are my parents here to give me a hard time?”
“No, they’re only concerned that you hadn’t responded to their calls or texts. And there was that article in the paper.”
She groaned. “People need to stay out of my business. My granddaddy built his empire for himself and his family—not the damn public. It’s none of their concern how it’s spent. It’s not like I’m some party girl flying to Paris every weekend to drink ten-thousand dollar bottles of champagne.”
“Exactly what your father said when he called the paper’s editor and gave him a piece of his mind. He also told them to find some other stories to report.”
She stumbled and Wydell righted her. “Are you serious?”
“Completely. You know your parents have always been on your side.”
That was good news. Wydell didn’t want to face down her parents. He’d had enough struggle for one lifetime.
His thoughts returned to Brodie and Danica, wondering if they’d gotten to the hospital yet.
When they reached the housing project, they were greeted by the sounds of saws and hammers. Wydell stared at the progress they’d made in his absence, a grin taking over his face—and then Anya’s.
“These houses have wonderful curb appeal,” Anya’s mother said.
“That’s Wydell’s magic. He designed them.”
“Really?” She arched a brow, and he felt the tip of his ears heat. Ducking his head, he led the way into the first house. “I’ll give you the tour.”
Inside was still messy with construction debris—buckets, dust and a few empty soda bottles. And thankfully, the only trace of his and Anya’s sex romp in the place was in his mind.
When he glanced at her, he found her eyes burning. His cock twitched.
She took her family and Marty on the grand tour, which took all of three minutes. Wydell ran his thumb over a rough edge of the paneling. He’d need to sand that in the final finishing of the interior.
Anya pointed to a space between the cabinets. “We’re putting a small convection oven here.”
She and her mother made pleasant noises about the decor for a few minutes while the men drew Wydell into a discussion about the use of square footage. Not an inch wasted.
Then Anya told them all about his surprise addition and how much it helped with a feeling of luxury while remaining small. “I think with some built-ins for storage, even a woman with a shoe habit would be happy to live here.”
He shot her a wink, watching her flush under his attention. When he looked around again, he found Marty beaming as if his ward had done something he approved of. And her father eyed him. He recognized that look. A talk was on the horizon.
Wydell took the bull by the horns. “I’d like to speak to you about Anya.”
The distinguished man held up a hand to stop Wydell. “I see how you feel about my daughter. She makes good decisions—always has.”
“I’ll sign a pre-nup if that makes you feel any better about my intentions, sir.” At the word sir, his tone tightened, as if he were still taking orders from a commanding officer.
Her father gave a nod. “That does swing things in your favor, son. Now, I’ve enjoyed this tour, but it’s feeling a little cramped in here for my taste.”
Wydell laughed. “I couldn’t agree more.”
After viewing the second house as well as the foundations for four more, talk moved on to food. Anya and her mother started talking animatedly, hands fluttering, as they planned a feast for the whole town.
“We must write a list and we’ll give it to your father and Marty,” her mother said. “They can run into town for supplies. Oh, and Wydell too.”
“Thanks,” said Wydell. “But I’m heading up to the Bells’ ranch. They’re having a hardship and I’ll need to see to their animals.”
Anya met his gaze, eyes filled with compassion. “I’ll come help. Momma, can you handle the shopping list and planning? I’ll be back in time to help cook.”
“Of course. This isn’t my first rodeo.” Her smile matched Anya’s.
Feeling a strange mix of relief and trepidation, Wydell waited for Anya to grab a few belongings from the trailer. Then he took her hand and walked her to his truck. As he opened the door for her, she skimmed a fingertip along his jaw.
“You’re amazing, Wydell. I’m so excited.”
He couldn’t resist smiling into her eyes. “Excited for what?”
“For forever.”
* * * * *
Anya’s ranch hand duties were much easier with the proper footwear and a pair of Wydell’s good leather gloves. He wore an older pair with a rip in the thumb, but it only made him look more rugged.
She kept stealing glances at his hands while he worked alongside her. The care and skill he displayed tending the animals was damn hot too.
“If you keep looking at me that way, you’re going to find yourself tossed into the nearest hay bale.”
She lifted her jaw. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
He forked more clean hay into a stall. “Uh-huh.”
“Besides, I need a shower desperately.” With longing she thought of the inside of the Bells’ house. They must have a full-sized shower, and right now she wanted to spread out. But it would be terrible manners for her to go into their home while they were away dealing with a crisis and help herself to their soap and water.
Seeming to read her mind, Wydell stopped working and leaned on the handle of the pitchfork. “You know, there’s a freshwater pond on this property.”
She felt her brows shoot up. Her hot, sticky skin prickled with the need of a good soak. And a cool pond with Wydell? Bliss.
“I’m in.” She dropped her shovel and swayed her hips all the way out of the barn. It took two whole seconds for him to catch up with her.
“It’s this way.” He pointed toward a field where the cattle weren’t grazing. “Let me run back to the barn and grab something.”
Waiting for him to return made her tap her foot in anticipation. But seeing him stride from the barn again, a couple towels slung around his neck and a few items in his grasp, was so worth it. Especially when his eyes smoldered from beneath the brim of his hat.
Each step he took was like cowboy catnip to her. To keep from tackling him and sinking over his cock, she was getting in that water quick. “This way?” She tipped her head in the direction.
“Yup.”
“Race ya!” She took off, knowing she’d never win. In five steps, Wydell had already caught up to her.
He dance-jogged beside her. “C’mon, Marine, you can do better than that! Faster. Push harder.”
She gave him the finger, which was like waving a red flag to a bull. As he dived for her, she tried to sidestep. They crashed to the turf, rolling. He settled his mouth over hers and she forgot about the bruise she got on her hip.
By the time they reached the field, she was sweatier than before, hotter and more bothered. She peeled off her clothes and walked nude into the pond with Wydell right behind her.
When the cool spring water hit his nuts, he stopped and gave a shudder.
“What’s wrong? Too cold for you?”
“You like pushing my buttons, don’t you?”
“So much.” She squealed as he lunged at her. They both went under and came up sputtering. The luxury of being submerged was beyond words.
“Beats that tiny bathtub,” he mumbled, but she heard.
“I have to admit, it does. Especially when I have room to do this.” Under the water, she found his long, thick, hard shaft. As she curled her fingers around the base, he groaned and locked her against his body, treading water for them both.
As she slid his erection through her hand, her own need spiked. How she’d walked into Los Vista and found the love of her life was a totally mystery, but one she wouldn’t think on too much. She’d just ride the feelings of love and joy.
“C’mere, woman.” He hitched her up and settled her down over his cock. In one luxurious glide, they were joined.
Holding his eyes, she rocked up and down on him. Her pussy swollen and needy. Her nipples pinched tight from the heat of his chest against her breasts rather than the cool water. “I love you, Wydell.”
He stared at her lips until she burned even hotter. Then he slowly claimed her lips. Soft, deep kisses that mirrored their lovemaking. Slowing almost to a stop at times before one of them would take control and the water rings grew faster and closer together.
With a final shove, he roared his release. Her pussy clamped around him, milking every drop.
Skipping kisses over her neck and breasts, he murmured encouraging words. “That’s it, beautiful. I love watching you come. God, your pussy’s like a glove.”
As he wrung the last pulsations from her, true fatigue hit. After days of walking and sleeping rough, she longed for her bed. Throw in manual labor and a trip from her family and friend and she was ready to crawl onto the bank, close her eyes and sleep the day away.
Wydell hooked her arms around his neck. She clung to him as he swam with her back to shore. When she was able to stand, he told her to wait there while he retrieved something he’d left on the bank.
“Soap!” she cried.
He held up a bar with a toe-curling grin. Then he swam back out to her and proceeded to scrub her from the roots of her hair to the tips of her toes. Twice. By the time he was finished caressing, massaging and lathering her every inch, she felt utterly relaxed.
She reached for the soap, though. “Your turn.”
“You’ll fall asleep before I’m clean.”
“Try me.” She arched a brow at him, and he placed the slippery bar into her hand. She worked it over his chest and arms. Down to those rock-hard abs that made her dream of long winter nights under the blankets together, summer romps in the bed of his truck, and running naked through the spring rain and falling into each other’s arms.
“I’m wide awake now.” She lathered her hands, but before she could put them on him, he grabbed her wrist, turned her hand and splatted her palm across her own face.
Soap bubbles popped on her skin, and she spluttered. “You—you’re gonna get it!”
She chased him around the pond before he finally let her catch him. Then she repaid him by soaping the tip of his nose. With a growl, he pulled her close and rubbed his nose over hers Eskimo-kiss style.
“Let’s get out, sweetheart. I could play with you until the sun sets, but your family will be searching for us before long.”
“It took a while to do the chores,” she practiced her lie, but she could tell by Wydell’s expression she’d failed miserably. Shrugging, she said, “They aren’t here to control my life. They just came to make sure I was okay. They won’t interfere with our relationship, Wydell.”
He hauled her to shore. “I know. Your father practically gave his blessing.”
“Of course he did. He knows a good man when he sees one.”
As they dried off and dressed, she sensed his pleasure at her words. But they were a thousand-percent true. She’d gotten lucky when Marty had shown her that news footage that had propelled her to Los Vista. Her life was here now.
* * * * *
Wydell couldn’t believe the spread Anya and her mother had prepared. Mrs. Kent, Mrs. Fletcher and some of the other town ladies had pitched in too. Bowl after bowl marched down the center of the table, which were sheets of plywood set on sawhorses.
Everybody had come with a bench or a lawn chair to sit around the big table. As Wydell took his own seat between Anya and her father, he couldn’t help but feel a huge brimming in his heart. It was like a big Thanksgiving.
And only two people were missing.
Earlier he’d gotten a text from Brodie confirming that they’d lost the baby and were heading right home to rest. The doctors had assured them it was a common thing for first-time mothers, but Danica and Brodie were still heartbroken, Wydell knew.
As Anya slipped her hand into his beneath the table, he realized that through hard times and joys, he’d be okay. With her at his side, he was a better man. A stronger man. War and loss had shaped him, but this was a time of rebuilding and rebirth.
He squeezed her fingers and brought them to his lips. When she turned shining eyes on him, his heart swelled until it was too big for his chest.
Across from him Boyd and Garrett were having a low discussion. Wydell strained to hear, his alarm bells ringing. But soon the whispers turned to laughter, and he knew all was well. His friends were all fighters too. Even if they were battling their own demons, they’d come through the fires as he did.
“Wydell, I’d like to discuss a business plan with you.”
He looked around to Anya’s father, who’d asked Wydell to call him Clark. “Sure.”
“It seems this town just needs a small boost to get it back on its feet. The camaraderie and the heart here aren’t weeds to be snuffed out without water. You’re hardy.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You and Anya have a great thing going with the vacation homes. She spoke with Marty about handling the real estate marketing and selling. But people will need certain conveniences. A grocery store, even a small one. A gas station.”
“And a medical clinic,” Anya piped up, leaning across Wydell to speak to her father. “If we’d had one here, maybe something could have been done for Danica.”
“So let’s do it.” Clark’s tone roused excitement in Wydell.
“It’s not a project I can take on myself.”
“Of course not, especially since you’ll be busy with your own house. I’ll provide enough funds for you to hire crews. I’ll start an account for you both as soon as I get home.”
Anya jumped into Wydell’s lap in order to hug her father. Several people laughed at that, but Wydell wasn’t laughing. With her sweet, round ass in his lap, he was instantly hard. And seated beside Clark, there was no way he’d get away with fingering her beneath the table. Not that she’d ever remain quiet.
With a supreme amount of willpower, he gently set her back in her seat. The only satisfaction to be had at this moment was that she was a little breathless and flushed.
As Pastor Kent stood to deliver a blessing, a truck engine made them all look toward the road. Wydell’s heart flexed as he spotted Brodie’s vehicle. The Bells were rising above their fresh loss and taking part in the celebrations.
They were all where they belonged.