Home > Tempted by a Cowboy (Perfect Man #2)(13)

Tempted by a Cowboy (Perfect Man #2)(13)
Author: Vicki Lewis Thompson

By early afternoon he was desperately seeking an outlet for his restlessness. Finally he came up with one, grabbed his keys, and climbed in his truck. He was curious about the condition of her truck, and the sheriff’s department had given him the name of the yard where it was being kept. He’d drive over and check it out.

As he navigated the muddy back roads he was required to take because of the collapsed bridge, he told himself visiting the yard was a good idea. She’d probably been attached to that truck. He certainly was to his. Seeing it all beat up would upset her, and if he’d seen it, too, he’d be better equipped to understand and console her.

Damn, she’d probably need consoling, too, especially when she first saw the truck. He hoped she wouldn’t go to the yard by herself. That would be really depressing, and he wanted to cushion the blow.

She hadn’t asked him, though. It hadn’t escaped his notice that she hadn’t asked him to help her at all. She’d called on her friend Melanie, and that was okay, but he would have liked to have been involved.

When he located the yard, he parked his truck next to the high chain-link fence and climbed out. He was no stranger to yards like this. A guy in need of a replacement bumper or fender could often find one at a reasonable price in these establishments. That kind of search had the excitement of a treasure hunt built in.

Today, though, he was looking for a wrecked truck that had been in fine shape early yesterday morning, and that produced a whole different feeling. Now that he was here, he wasn’t as interested in viewing the damage as he’d thought he’d be. He’d do it, though, for Astrid’s sake.

“Can I help you?” A thin guy wearing a white T-shirt, worn jeans, and a baseball cap walked out of a small shack near the entrance to the yard.

“I wanted to take a look at a truck that came in yesterday. White crew cab, went into the water up by the Rocking G.”

“Oh, yeah.” The guy glanced at the side of Fletch’s truck, obviously noticing the Rocking G brand. “Were you there?”

“I was.”

“You just missed the owner. She was here not thirty minutes ago.”

Fletch swore under his breath. If he’d followed his instincts sooner, he might have met her here. Then again, she might not have appreciated that. God knows he didn’t want her to think he was turning into a damned stalker.

“The insurance adjuster’s already been out, too, but that doesn’t surprise me. After all, she’s a Lindberg.”

“Excuse me?”

“A Lindberg.” The guy peered at him from under the brim of his cap. “Apparently that doesn’t mean anything to you.”

“Not really, other than it’s her last name.”

“I might not know about the family, either, except a few years ago her daddy wrecked a Lamborghini, and they towed it here.”

“Did you say Lamborghini?” Fletch didn’t know much about luxury cars, but he recognized that name.

“Yep. Worth more than a million bucks. Totaled. Man, I hated to see that fine piece of machinery all torn up. He was lucky to walk away from it. Anyway, a car like that makes an impression. Now the name Lindberg rings a bell whenever I hear it.”

“I’ll bet.” A million bucks. For a car. His mind made such a sharp U-turn that he felt a little dizzy. Her parents weren’t conservative people who disapproved of premarital sex. They were filthy rich, which meant Astrid was filthy rich, too.

Now everything made sense. He’d known she was hesitant about committing to their relationship. After learning this critical bit of information, one she’d failed to impart, the reason became painfully obvious. She was rich and he was not.

Anger sat in his chest, hard and hot, burning away all the tender feelings he’d had for her. What was he to her? The equivalent of a pool boy? Oh, she’d liked the sex well enough. He didn’t doubt that. She might have figured that a once-a-week romp would be fun for awhile. But she’d had no intention of letting it go beyond a casual affair.

“Still want to see her truck?”

Fletch stared at him. He’d forgotten the guy was standing there. “No.” He glanced up at the sun and estimated the time to be about three. “I need to get going.”

“You’re sure? It’s just right over yonder.” He gestured toward the fence.

Fletch looked, and sure enough, he could see the front half of the truck. It was sitting behind a bashed-in yellow van. “Yeah, okay. Why not?”

“I mean, you drove here, so you might as well.” The guy unlocked the gate and led the way through it. “She told me she jumped free.”

“Yep.” The image flashed through his mind and clutched at his heart. It probably always would when he thought of it. From now on, he’d do his best not to.

“Good thing she jumped. You get trapped in the vehicle when it goes in, you’re done for. Maybe she has her old man’s luck when it comes to things like that.”

“Could be.”

“I’m sort of surprised that she’s a vet, though. You’d think she’d go into finance, like her daddy.”

“She would hate that.” He hadn’t meant to say the words out loud.

“So you know her pretty well, then?”

“She’s my vet.” Or at least she used to be. He planned to fire her, right after he gave her a piece of his mind.

“So you must be the guy who pulled her out of the water.”

“That’s me.”

“You could be in for a reward, then. Her parents must be plenty grateful. You probably saved her life.”

Fletch shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Listen, take my advice. Don’t be shy. The Lindbergs are loaded, and if they offer you a reward for saving their only child, why not accept it? Unless you already have more money than you know what to do with.”

“Nope.” He laughed at the irony of it all. “I’m just a regular working stiff, trying to make ends meet.”

“That’s what I’m saying. Take the money.”

“I’ll think about it.” He should, too, if a reward came his way. His knee-jerk response was that he didn’t want their stinkin’ money. Accepting money for doing what was right wasn’t his style.

But he had so many plans for expanding his ranch, and if a cash reward would help him do that, he shouldn’t let stupid pride stand in his way. Yeah, he’d take the money. Just so long as Astrid wasn’t the one who delivered it. After he’d tracked her down this afternoon, or tonight, or whenever he got his chance to say his piece, he never wanted to see her again.

Nine

By five o’clock, Astrid was able to head home in her rented truck, which was stocked with some basic medical supplies so that the next day she’d be able to catch up on the appointments she’d had to cancel. She had a new phone, and her insurance adjuster was on the case. She didn’t have to wait for insurance money to buy a new truck, but she wasn’t up to doing it today.

Instead she was looking forward to a warm bath, a glass of wine, and, eventually, a phone call to Fletch. She was still debating when and where to meet him tomorrow, but she’d figure that out while she soaked in the tub. He’d be expecting a call from her anyway. He’d want to know how she made out with all her errands, and she missed talking to him.

Seeing his truck parked in front of her clinic startled her. He hadn’t tried to call. She’d had her phone activated since early afternoon. Yet here he was.

As she approached, he got out, closed the cab door, and leaned against the front fender, arms crossed. His Stetson shaded his face, so she couldn’t read his expression, but his body language was clear enough. He was angry.

Her heart began to pound. Only one thing could cause that kind of response. Somehow he’d found out about the money.

Mouth dry and pulse racing, she stopped her truck. Her hand shook as she turned the key, shutting off the motor. What now? Could she make him understand why she hadn’t told him?

Saying a little prayer that she could appeal to that gentle, caring side of him, she climbed down from the rental truck and walked toward him. When he didn’t come to meet her, she understood just how angry he must be. He’d always been so glad to see her.

Not now. The closer she came, the more she realized how rigid his body was. Finally she gazed into his eyes, and her spirit shrank. He’d never looked at her like that, with eyes so cold that she shivered.

“Fletch, I can explain.”

“Really?” His tone was as cold as his eyes. “I’ll be fascinated to hear what you come up with. Were you ever going to tell me? Or were you just stringing me along until you got tired of the sex?”

She gasped, the breath going out of her as if he’d punched her in the stomach. “That’s what you think? That all I cared about was sex?”

“Obvious, isn’t it? I know you liked that part, but whenever I tried to establish something more concrete between us, you shied away. At first you claimed it was because I was a client. Was that ever true, or just a ploy?”

“It was true!” Her heart cracked right down the middle. “I value my professional reputation.”

“I can’t imagine why it matters. You don’t need the money.”

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