Winning Over The Cowboy. Shannon Vannatter Taylor

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sorry.” She reached for the box. “Need anything else out of there? I can carry something.”

      So eager to please. “I’ve got it.”

      She turned away, crossed the office and headed for the stairs.

      “It’s the third room on the—”

      “I remember.”

      He followed her up the stairs in silence, their footfalls echoing. He hadn’t figured out just how yet, but someway, he’d send Landry Malone screaming all the way back to Aubrey, Texas. By the end of the week. If not sooner.

      At the top, she headed straight to the Rest a Spell Room, unlocked the door, held it open for him.

      “This room was always one of my favorites.” She spun a circle in the middle of the space, scanning the barn wood walls and ceiling, then ran her hand over the suede bedspread. “So soothing. Lives up to its name. I stayed here when Ky—I stayed here last fall.”

      When Ky what?

      He slid the barn door open, strolled into the bathroom, set his toolbox down, opened the cabinet under the sink and knelt in front of it with a flashlight.

      “Looks like a simple coupling on the cold.” He ran his finger along the dripping pipe.

      “Do I need to turn the water off?”

      “I can do that here.” He turned, eased onto his back, leaning on his elbows, and stretched his legs out in the cramped space. “Can you hand me that hacksaw and find the smallest coupling?”

      “You mean the half-inch?” She settled on the floor cross-legged with her knee almost touching his, dug the hacksaw out of the plastic toolbox and handed it to him.

      “You know your stuff.” In the three times they’d met, she’d been mostly quiet, maybe even uncomfortable. Because of Eden’s attempts at a fixup?

      Despite his determination to resent her, she kept impressing him. Add to that, she was easy on the eyes with her unruly strawberry blond waves, enormous brown eyes a man could drown in and a smattering of freckles across her perky nose.

      “My parents own a Christian bookstore with a coffee bar. I’ve helped my dad with lots of plumbing over the years.”

      “So you’re a Christian?”

      Silence. Maybe not.

      “I am. But I’ve had a lot going on. Haven’t been to church in a while.” Her gaze dropped to the floor, then bounced back up to his. “You?”

      “He got me through Eden’s death.”

      “Me, too.”

      Maybe they did have something in common. Other than Eden. But he couldn’t let his guard down with her. He lay back and stuck his head under the counter, banging his elbow in the process.

      Heat shot through the length of his arm. “Ouch. That was my funny bone, and I didn’t find it humorous at all.” He clutched his right elbow.

      “Sorry.” Sympathy edged her voice.

      He reached for the coupling, and her fingers grazed his. “Do we have any disinfectant mold killer?”

      “I think I saw some.”

      He slid the hacksaw into the tight space, drew the teeth carefully across the pipe. There was a trickle of water. Then a burst of it spewed everywhere.

      Landry screamed as he fumbled with the shutoff valve got the spray of water back to a trickle, then nothing. He wiped his face and slid out from under the cabinet.

      “You did that on purpose.” She sat in a tight ball with her back to him. In a puddle, hands covering her head, drenched from head to toe.

      “I didn’t.” But he could barely keep the laughter at bay. “We got to talking and I forgot to turn the valve off. Here. Let me help you.” On his knees, he offered his hand.

      Her head popped up, drenched tendrils framed her dripping face. She gave him a steely glare, ignoring his offer. But when she tried to get her feet under her, she slid in the puddle.

      “Let me help you.”

      Another glare, but she clutched his hand. She slipped again, tugging him off balance. They both ended up in the puddle side by side, on their backs and soaking wet. He couldn’t keep from laughing any longer.

      “I know you did that on purpose.” She clambered to her knees. “You want to get rid of me. To get me out of your way.”

      Uh-oh. She was on to him. “I honestly didn’t mean to spray you with water. But you’re right, I can’t say that I really want you around and I don’t understand why Eden left you half of my legacy.”

      She propped her hands on her hips. “I’m not going anywhere. For whatever reason, Eden wanted me here.”

      Had that really been his sister’s wish? Or had Landry scammed her into thinking she did? He rolled over, managed to stand.

      “I didn’t do it on purpose. I promise.” But maybe he should have. If he made her miserable enough, maybe she’d leave. If she left, surely he and his parents could manage to buy her out.

      “Let me help you up.” He offered his hand.

      Her gaze bored into his. But with little choice, she laid her hand in his.

      Just outside the puddle, he braced his feet and helped her up.

      Her feet slid, but he steadied her with his hands on her waist.

      Standing in the middle of the puddle, eyes intense, she pressed her face close to his. “I. Loved. Her. Too.” Her words came through clenched teeth, as a tear slid down her cheek.

      His gut turned over. If she was an actress, she was a good one. Good enough to take Hollywood by storm. Could she be for real?

      There was a knock on the door, and it quickly swung open as Becca stepped in and spied them in the bathroom. “Oh. I’m on cleaning rounds.”

      “We had a little mishap.” His arms dropped to his sides, then clasped Landry’s fingers in his. “Careful. Don’t slip, now.”

      She tiptoed out of the puddle, then jerked her hand out of his grasp.

      Becca’s wide eyes took in all of it, pinging from one to the other.

      “Don’t worry about this mess. I’ll handle it.” He stepped around the pooling water, grabbed a towel and then mopped up the worst of it.

      “Yes, sir.” Becca exited.

      Landry shivered, then hugged herself. “Thanks to you, I must look like a drowned rat.” She spun on her heel and stalked out of the room.

      A pretty drowned rat. A dangerous one.

      Yet her intensity when she’d claimed to love Eden,

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