Finding Her Cowboy Page 3

  He cocked his head to the side as he stood. “Never seen a man on his knees before?”

  “I’m an only child. I’ve never had a brother to mop the floor with a towel, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  That’s not what he was asking, and by the blush to her cheeks, she knew exactly what he’d meant. He whistled. “Only child, huh? How would that be? I have four brothers, but that doesn’t excuse me from trailing mud through your kitchen. My grandma taught us to take our boots off when we came inside.”

  Her eyes swept over him before she looked away. “Four brothers?” she asked. “All single?”

  “Yeah, but they’re all ugly.”

  She laughed. “Ugly? I don’t buy it.”

  He stepped behind her as the tea kettle let off steam with a high-pitched whistle. “Don’t buy it, huh?” He spoke deep and slow. “Why not?”

  “No reason,” she said, pointing to two wicker chairs in the corner of the room. “Sugar or honey?”

  Patience, he told himself. “Honey. Thanks.” He took a step back to allow her room to pour the boiling water into two large mugs on the counter. He handed her the honey, then sat in one of the large wicker seats, continuing to watch her every delicate movement.

  “So, you’ll share your gardener with me?” she asked, handing him his mug, then taking her seat. She pulled up her bare feet and crossed her legs on the cushion in one fluid movement.

  “I don’t know,” he said, staring down at his mug. “He’s kinda shy.”

  She lifted a brow. “Too shy to work in my garden?”

  “He’s had women come on to him pretty strong in the past and it makes him a little uncomfortable.”

  She blew a breath out the side of her mouth and tossed her hair like she didn’t have the slightest interest. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

  “Alright then. I’ll text you the lawn company’s phone number.” He reached into his pocket for his phone, but it wasn’t there. “I left my phone at home.”

  She leaned forward, her face lighting into a bright smile. “I can’t wait to get started. If your gardener can transform my weeds into a mystical garden like yours, this home will be complete.” She glanced around the room. “It’ll be perfect. I’ll never leave this place. Ever.”

  “So, the whole…dying in the garden thing?” He winced.

  She lifted the mug to her plump pink lips and sipped her tea. “We’ll see,” she said with a teasing smile. “Or maybe you won’t. You’re moving?”

  Disappointment settled in his gut. “My grandfather left me a house in Dallas,” he said, glancing over at a ringing phone on the kitchen counter. She remained focused on him, not seeming the least bit anxious to answer her phone. “I’m transferring to a store there, so it makes sense to sell my house. I’ll be gone before Christmas.”

  Her eyes fell to her lap. “That’s too bad.”

  Her phone rang again.

  “It’s okay. Answer that. I should go home and change.”

  “Thanks, again,” said Becca with a blink of her dark lashes, accentuating her crystal blue eyes.

  While she stepped across the room to answer her call, Jack threw his shoes on and pulled himself out of her house. He wasn’t going to say goodbye to her, not today, maybe not ever. He took his time in her back yard, close to thirty minutes, mentally arranging the foliage, calculating the sod, compost, bushes, flowers, and the trees it would require to transform the sleeping space into something spectacular.

  The sun broke through the clouds as he strolled in through his back door, his head floating somewhere in the sky alongside the warm rays. He lifted his cell phone from the hallway table. He’d missed three calls from his agent. He paced his house as the phone rang on the other end. The moment it picked up he said, “Hey. What do ya got for me?”

  “Eager. I like it.” Jon’s gruff voice echoed through the phone. “You’re going to love this. You’ve received an offer. Full asking price. Cash.”

  Becca strolled up the front sidewalk, causing Jack to jerk to a stop while his brain connections misfired. She musts have walked over to pick up her car. She glanced up at his house with a smile, then slipped into her car.

  “Jack, did you hear me?” Jon asked impatiently. “Full asking price.”

  “Change of plans.”

  “What?” asked Jon.

  “I don’t want to sell,” Jack kept his voice steady and firm.

  “Come again?”

  “Value’s gone up.”

  Jon grunted. “But you’ve already moved out,” he whined. “You wanted to rid yourself of that house the moment Shelly moved out of the country. Remember? You’re not going to get another cash offer like this.”

  Jack rubbed his neck. “When do they want it?”

  “Three weeks.”

  Jack tapped his chin. “Give me six.”

  Jon released a sigh. “How pretty is she?”

  Becca appeared in his mind—her dark eyelashes batting open to radiant blue irises, the milky skin of her throat driving him mad with desire to press his lips against her neck. “Very.”

  Three hours later, Jack pulled into a parking space at the far end of the lot of his McKinney store. He would miss this place, the garden store he’d built three years ago. He’d spent nearly every day here since.

  His Dallas store would be his new home; he’d still drive the forty-five minutes to his hometown of McKinney to check on his first love, but it would never be the same.

  He jumped out and jogged inside, greeting his customers with a smile and tip of his hat while he searched for the man who could help him. “Harlan!” he said, stopping Harlan in the gardening tool aisle, close to the offices. “I need a trailer, a mower, some lawn equipment, and a truck.”

  “We’re mowing lawns now?” Harlan raised an inquisitive brow. “You haven’t mowed a lawn since we were teenagers, like ten years ago. What are you up to?”

  “Helping a neighbor here.”

  “You’ve moved,” he said sternly, clearly not interested in procuring equipment.

  “Maybe not.”

  “Not wanting to move from our friendly McKinney to one of the snobbiest neighborhoods in Dallas?” He tipped his hat. “Can’t say I blame you for staying.”

  “It’s not that. I’ll move, but in my own good time.”

  “I see,” Harlan said with a faint smile. “How pretty is she?”

  “Why do people keep asking me that?” Jack relaxed his shoulders. “Too pretty for me to think straight.”

  Harlan cleared his throat. “You’ve got a new store opening before the holidays. You don’t have time to chase pretty.”

  Jack grabbed Harlan by his shoulders. “She’s pretty enough to change the opening date.”

  Harlan gave him a hard look, then said, “When do you need it?”

  “Yes!” said Jack, not holding back his excitement. “I texted her your number. When she calls, tell her you’ll send out your best guy.”

  “How pretty is she again? Because I’m not just your cousin, I’m your best hired hand.”

  Jack narrowed his eyes. “Don’t even think about it.”

  Harlan held his palms up and laughed. “No worries, but why be secretive? Just take your shirt off and ask her out.”

  Jack furrowed his brow. “That works?”

  Harlan shook his head. “All those good looks…wasted. Do you know how many girls you could’ve dated if you’d only asked?”

  “I’ve dated my fair share,” Jack responded, slightly offended.

  “Shelly doesn’t count. She chased you and now she’s chasing her career.” He blew out a long breath. “And thank heavens for that.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Jack, take off your rose-colored glasses. You’ve been happier since she left, and it doesn’t sound like this girl is going to chase you like Shelly did. If you like this one, you’ve gotta let her know before someone jumps in line in front of you. Don’t wait till it’s too late, li
ke I did.”

  “Don’t intend to. That’s why I’m here…” Jack paused, waiting for Harlan to cue in, “—talking to you.”

  “On it.” Harlan acknowledged with a nod. “I’ll have your truck and equipment ready by the end of the week.”

  Chapter Three

  Becca stepped out of her upstairs shower to the scent of freshly cut grass. She wrapped a thick towel around her torso as her toes sunk into the shaggy white bathroom rug.

  “Don’t you love Saturday mornings?” she asked Navi, who pranced around the rug, claiming it for her own, but happy to share it with Becca as long as she allowed her to rub up against her wet calves.

  The zip and roar of an igniting lawn mower drew Becca toward her open bathroom window. A warm autumn breeze, carrying with it the essence of turned earth, tickled her shoulders and caused the long sheer white curtains to billow and ripple to the tiled floor where the hem of the curtains danced to her usual shower music—the best of the 90’s.

  She sucked in a breath and held it in her chest as she stared down at a shirtless man, his tanned skin glistening, dripping with fresh sweat. His face was hidden beneath his cream Stetson straw hat. Yes! he’s a real Texan, she said to herself. She could tell the visitors to McKinney from a mile away, in their black straw hats, or felt hats worn before Labor Day. Being mid-October, it was well past Labor Day, but still too hot for felt.

  Becca’s heart raced, wondering how visible her bathroom window was from her yard as she stared down at the man. Jack wasn’t joking when he said his gardener was a looker. No wonder this guy had all the girls after him.

  Why would he show off that gorgeous physique if he didn’t want women to look at him? she pouted internally.

  With effort, the man cleared the long grasses and weeds, his strength displayed in his active back and leg muscles.

  She wiped her own sweat from her brow. Why had she promised Jack she wouldn’t go after this guy? She hadn’t been asked out on a date in months, except for tonight, but that didn’t count; her mom had set it up without checking with her first. She’d only met Mark twice. No sparks. But according to her mother, he was a catch if, for no other reason, he was an established local attorney. “If only Mark had Jack’s eyes,” she sighed out.

  Thinking about Jack’s big brown eyes and caring smile helped her turn her own eyes away from the buff gardener, her thoughts returning to the guy she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about since he’d left her kitchen the other night. She’d been attracted to plenty of guys in the past, not to mention right now to the ripped gardener in her back yard, but she’d felt a pull to Jack that was different. It was more than raw physical attraction with Jack; it wasn’t simply chemistry at work, but she had no point of reference. She hadn’t experienced anything like it before to explain her intense draw to him.

  When he’d texted her the landscaping business’s phone number, he’d said he’d follow up with her. But why? Because he’d sensed their connection as well? Or to make sure she wasn’t hitting on his lawn guy? The gardener wasn’t so attractive that she couldn’t keep away from him.

  She peered out the window again.

  The man stopped the mower to stretch out his arms, back, and legs, but she could’ve sworn he was flexing instead of stretching.

  “Yes, Navi. He’s that hot,” she said, fanning her face. “Time to get dressed and keep away from the windows.” She put on a soft red T-shirt and her old painting jeans, her comfiest unpacking clothes. Thankfully, only a few hallway closet and pantry boxes still needed unpacking.

  A hard knock pounded at her back door, causing her to jump. She paused before opening the door, praying for the strength to not salivate or appear affected by the gardener’s amazing body. She opened the door, focusing on the lawn behind him.

  “Wow, that already looks so much better,” she said.

  “Thanks. Could I have a glass of water? Please,” he said in a hoarse voice.

  “Oh course,” she said, turning to grab him a bottle of water—he wouldn’t need to return a plastic bottle to her—and she absolutely wouldn’t offer for him to come inside.

  She didn’t know this guy from Adam and had promised Jack to keep her distance. She pulled a water from the refrigerator and handed it to him, not allowing her eyes to leave the cool bottle in her hand.

  He cupped her hand as she held firm to the bottle. His fingers lingered for a few seconds before he took the water from her. A thrilling warmth shot up her arm.

  Shy, my… ran through her mind as she raised her eyes to his. “Jack!” she exclaimed. “What are you playing?”

  Her eyes slowly went up and down his body to confirm his identity, her excuse for staring at his incredible body. Maybe this wasn’t Jack. She hadn’t guessed Jack to have such defined pecs and abs, not to mention toned arms and legs. Finally admitting this must be Jack, she raised her eyes to his face.

  He smiled brightly, his straight white teeth sparkling in the sunlight. “Sorry, I couldn’t help it.”

  She threw her head back and laughed, relieved and slightly annoyed. He took a long swig of the water, angling his face up to the sky and giving her a full view of his strong jawline and moist neck.

  “I work at the garden shop. Gardens are what we do,” he said, crushing the empty bottle in his hand. He motioned to her back yard. “I can help design and develop your garden.” He paused. “But it’s gonna take a lot of time…you and me, going over plans and picking out plants and trees.”

  “I could do that,” she said, staring past him at her yard to hide the desire in her eyes. She couldn’t imagine anything better than spending hours every day in the back yard with his shirtless body. “If you promise to behave.” She raised her chin, telling herself the same. “Want us to remain friends? You need to quit messing with me.”

  “Promise.” He crossed an X over his heart—drawing her eyes to his bare chest and causing her heart to pound. “Do you want to walk to the farmer’s market and grab some lunch?”

  She glanced down at her watch. “It’s almost lunchtime already? I haven’t even thought about breakfast. I guess I slept in.” Her stomach growled at the mention of food. “My gut says yes.”

  “I’ve always been told to follow my gut.” He pointed to her stomach. “Sounds like your gut likes me.”

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” she said with a shy smile. “Meet me out front in twenty minutes?”

  “I’ll be ready in fifteen,” he said, jumping off her porch and sprinting through her back yard to his house.

  “Mercy me,” she said as she closed her back door, reminding herself that Jack wouldn’t be around for more than a few weeks, but where was the harm in making a new friend? She’d have to guard herself because this guy was starting to come on strong, and she didn’t want her heart ripped out of her chest when he moved, never to look back; that’s how he’d made it sound on Monday, when he said he’d be gone before Christmas.

  Fifteen minutes later, Becca strolled out to her sidewalk, enjoying the warm sunshine on her face. Her neighborhood held an old-world charm; mature oak trees lined the street, occupying a good portion of the small front yards. The houses were equally spaced but varied in size and shape as most of them had been remodeled to suit their multiple owners over the past hundred years, many of the edifices having been lovingly remodeled to give renewed breath to their original beauty.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Becca caught Jack sprinting toward her. “What’s the hurry?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” he said with a wink.

  “No,” she responded playfully.

  He reached down, allowing his cheek to brush hers. His warm breath caressed the side of her neck, causing happy chills to cascade down her shoulder. He whispered close to her ear, “Food.”

  “Well, that’s a relief,” she said with a sideways glance, hiding a smile of anticipation to spend the afternoon with him.

  “Don’t get too comfortable,” he said, setting a brisk pace for the
m. “I’m full of surprises.”

  “Promise? Because I’m told that my life lacks novelty and suspense.”

  “Not anymore,” he said, brushing his hand against hers. Her heart sped. For a split second, she thought he might take hold of her hand, but he didn’t. They walked the next ten minutes in silence until they’d reached the edge of the square and he put his hand on the small of her back to lead her through the first group of people they’d come to. “This friendship is going to make you wonder how you ever lived without me.”

  She raised an inquisitive brow. “Is that confidence I smell, or cockiness?”

  “I have no idea what you mean,” he said as they entered the downtown McKinney shopping district, with its revived, small-town feel.

  This block was more her home sometimes than her house. She knew this square by its friendly sights and sounds. She glanced at the opposite edge of the square toward her shop. On a weekday, she could easily see across the lawn to her store, but not today during the busy weekly farmer’s market.

  They crossed the street to the square where the market was still in full swing. An elderly man selling hand thrown pottery caught their eyes and waved them over. “These mugs are cool. Which is your favorite?” Jack asked her, picking up a large mug with a deep blue glaze. “I like this one.”

  “Me too,” she said, cradling a similar mug in her hands, loving how the mug’s imperfect surface scratched her palm.

  “We’ll take these two,” Jack said to the artist, pulling out his wallet and handing the man cash.

  “Thank you,” Becca said with a smile.

  Jack simply nodded.

  Becca held her cup up. “I’ll make us a pot of tea sometime to try them out.”

  “I’d love that, but don’t feel obligated. It’s a gift.”

  She waved a hand in the air. “It’s the least I can do for the man who’ll be transforming my weeds into a Garden of Eden.”

  Jack laughed. “Whoa. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Those are hefty expectations,” he said as they weaved through the crowd.

  “What?” she asked, stopping to accept a cup of hot cider from a teenage vendor. “Where’s that confidence I saw earlier? You’re doubting yourself and your ability to create my dream garden?”