She ran to get him a glass of cold water, then stepped out onto the porch to meet him.
Good gosh, he looked handsome after a day’s work. He was wearing work boots and jeans that displayed legs like tree trunks and a white work shirt that showed off his huge muscles. A bead of sweat glistened on his forehead just above his stormy eyes.
He came to a stop in front of her and took the glass of water with a grunt.
“Thank you,” she said. “You got nearly everything done in one day. How is that possible?”
“It’s my job,” Beck said gruffly. “I said I’d get the place fixed up, and I stick by my words.” Then he put the glass to his mouth and guzzled the water. When he was done, he pulled up his shirt to wipe his mouth, revealing gorgeous, ripped abs and a perfect V-line.
Oh merciful heavens… Stop looking, Sierra.
“By the way,” he added. “I got a call from Harrison.”
“What about?” she asked, wide-eyed and bright red and hoping he didn’t notice.
“He’s inviting us over for dinner.” His lips quirked up slightly. “You up to it?”
She nodded eagerly. “Of course!” She’d liked Harrison and Marian. And the idea of hanging out with them, plus spending more time with Beck, was irresistible.
“There’s time if you want to go get ready,” he said.
“Okay,” she said, furrowing her eyebrows. “But when will you change?”
“I can change while I’m over there,” he said.
“Oh, no,” Sierra said, putting her hand up in protest. “You do too much for me, Beck, to just be living out in that tent on the boundaries or waiting to go home for a shower. From now on, you’ll stay in here with a shower and bed and all the amenities.”
He scowled. “But—”
“No buts,” she insisted. “I won’t hear any rebuttals.”
“But I’m dangerous—”
“I’m not afraid of you,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I’m more afraid of you getting eaten by coyotes.”
And it was true. He didn’t scare her, and there had been coyotes out on the prowl lately. And besides, she couldn’t in good conscience let him renovate her whole farm while living in a tent.
That wouldn’t feel right.
“Please, Beck?” she begged, fluttering her eyelashes at him in what she knew to be blatant manipulation. But if it helped him get inside with her…
“Coyotes,” he muttered somewhere between frustrated and amused. Finally, he sighed and gave in. “Well, I guess I wouldn’t want to worry a pretty lady like you.”
“Exactly,” she said, flushing at his words. “Now get in here, and I’ll show you to your room.”
This sexy man thought she was pretty?
She fanned herself as she led him up the stairs and down the hall toward the bedrooms. She opened the door to the last one on the left, which used to be her room before she took her grandparents’ room in the house.
He stooped under the doorway and into the room, then looked around, taking in his surroundings. After a second, he took off his Stetson and frowned, seemingly regretting his choice.
“Listen, Sierra, I’m not sure that this is—”
“Too bad,” Sierra said, grinning at the big, awkward, sexy mountain man. “You’re staying, and that’s final. Bathroom’s down the hall and on your right.”
With that, she stepped out, closing the door behind her. Holy cow, it was getting more and more dangerous to be alone with him and all of his muscles.
It was so weird that he thought he was so terrifying and scary. She had to admit that he was intimidating at first, but once she got to know him, it was clear that he was a big softie.
Sierra hurried into her room, wondering what she was going to wear. This was so exciting.
But wait… What if it was a date?
She pursed her lips. It was Harrison that had invited them to dinner, but Beck had told her to get changed and dressed up.
She really had no idea.
There was a way he looked at her every time he saw her that tended to heat her up inside.
But was she just imagining it because he was so gosh darn handsome?
He was just doing a favor for her. She shouldn’t be getting ideas.
But as she started her shower and waited for the water to heat, the question kept haunting her.
Was there even a chance that the gorgeous, growly man now living under her roof might want something… more?
8
Beck tapped the toe of his boot on the porch as he waited for Sierra. Damn, he was nervous. Not even the cool evening air could soothe him. He would definitely need a drink or two at dinner.
Just at that moment, Sierra stepped out onto the porch, looking gorgeous as all hell in the waning evening light. Her sandy hair was curled and fell in soft waves around her beautiful face, and her eyes looked even bigger and bluer than usual, if that were possible.
His eyes roamed down, taking in her V-neck, which was open and revealing cleavage above snug jeans that displayed generous curves. Suddenly, his lips were dry, and he wetted them with his tongue.
“Wow,” he said. “Sweetheart, I think you might just be the prettiest little thing I’ve ever seen.”
She blushed and looked away. “Thanks. You look handsome as well.”
He knew “prettiest” didn’t cut it, but Beck had never been very good with words, a trait that seemed to be backfiring on him now as they quietly walked out to his truck.
All he knew was that after seeing her like that, he wanted her. His dragon wanted her.
Bad.
He eyed their reflections in the truck window as he held the door open for her. She looked fantastic. He looked, well, like Beck.
He’d tried real hard to look nice. He’d even put on his cleanest, best pair of jeans, which were still work jeans, and a nice blue flannel Harrison had made him buy a while ago.
As Beck jogged around the truck to hop in the driver’s side, he wished he had better boots. Dressy, clean ones. But Beck’s were for stomping ass, not looking fancy like Clancy.
Beck frowned as he got in his truck. Maybe Sierra would like someone like Clancy, someone gentle and sweet. At the thought, his dragon growled angrily, and he pushed it away. It wouldn’t do any good to think about.
As they pulled out of her homestead, she gave him a nervous look. “You okay? You’re quiet, and you’ve been glaring at the dash for a minute.”
He loosened up his grip on the wheel, realizing he was probably scaring her.
“I’m fine,” he muttered. “I just got a little flustered, seeing you like that.”
She laughed. “I’m not some southern belle, Beck. You don’t have to flatter me.”
“It’s not flattery,” he said with a grunt. “I ain’t ever seen anyone look as good as you do now, and I don’t want other men to see you.”
A small smile crept onto her lips. “A bit possessive?”
“Would it be bad if I were?” He gave her a gruff look.
He knew he wasn’t being sweet or gentlemanly. That wasn’t who he was. He was part monster, bold and brash and tough and anything but soft.
To his surprise, she blushed and shook her head. “No, it wouldn’t be bad. I would say it would be very hot. I like to feel wanted.”