Lone Star Bachelor

“Have we provided enough to get started?” Dan pushed up from the table. He really was a workaholic. Sitting around for too long made him antsy.

Jade stood as well and tapped a pen against her notebook. “I want to see the vandalized sites today if possible.”

“No problem.” Dad aimed a finger toward Sawyer. “Sawyer will show you around. You can use the time to discuss anything in his past that may have set someone off on a vendetta.”

“Dad! Come on. I’m not the guilty party here. And I have important work to do.”

Dan held up a hand, his universal signal for “don’t argue.”

“Dawson can handle your load today.” To Dawson, he said, “Call Clare Hammond to help out in Sawyer’s place.”

“Works for me.” Dawson knocked back the last of his coffee and pushed to a stand. “Clare’s a pro, almost as good as us.”

Sawyer liked working with her, too. He could actually make Clare laugh, something he couldn’t say for the PI. But maybe if he and Jade Warren spent some time together, if she got to know him better, she might loosen up. Maybe he’d even convince her that he was a good guy—a long shot, he thought with humor, but he was always up for a challenge.

And when had he ever refused a day off with a beautiful woman?

* * *

Jade’s sensible shoes crunched on the gravel parking area outside the Buchanon offices as she made her way to her practical white Chevy. Even after driving her motel neighbor to the store and back, she’d arrived with plenty of time to spare for the meeting with the Buchanon boss. Now that she’d met the main man in person Jade felt better, more in control.

She wished her feelings were the same about Bailey Shaffer. The kid with the cute baby boy was barely seventeen and completely alone. No education, no job, no transportation. If not for public assistance, she and baby Ashton would have nothing. Bailey seemed like a sweet girl, and her love for Ashton showed on her face and in every action. She was a good, if too young, mother in a very bad situation.

Jade shook her head, knowing she should be focused on the job instead of the teenage mother. But she hurt for the girl and worried about her and the baby.

Sawyer Buchanon was behind her a few paces, having stopped to grab a doughnut from his sisters. He’d offered her one but she’d refused. She didn’t know why. She loved doughnuts, especially the ones with chocolate icing and lots of sprinkles, but she didn’t want Sawyer to think he could beguile his way under her skin.

Again, she couldn’t put a finger on what it was about him. He ruffled her and she didn’t like the feeling. It felt like attraction and that scared her. She had always been a sucker for handsome, smiling men until Cam Warren taught her a lesson she couldn’t forget. She knew her weaknesses, so she had to be careful. She would not be a victim again.

“Hey, Jade. Hold up.”

She stopped, one hand on her car door, keys ready. Sawyer ambled in her direction, the sun glinting on his black hair. He was built tall, like his brothers and father, lean, well-proportioned and fit, with long legs that ate up the ground in no time. She observed him as she would a suspect, wondering what kind of man lived inside that too-perfect body.

Her stomach clenched. Or was that flutters? Awareness flutters.

Annoyed to think it might be, she bit out a reply. “What?”

“Ride with me.” He hitched his head. “My truck’s over here.”

“No need. I’ll follow you in my vehicle.”

His nostrils flared. He gave her a long, slow look that seared the ends of her hair. “Suit yourself.”

Sawyer spun toward his big maroon pickup while Jade contemplated what she’d done. If she wanted to dig into the guy’s past, she needed to spend time with him in his environment, get to know more about him than what was on his Facebook page.

Her refusal was a bad sign that he was causing her to react like a woman instead of an investigator. That simply would not do.

“On second thought, I might as well conserve fuel and ride with you.” Nice save, Jade. And Dale would appreciate her sacrifice.

Sawyer spun back, boots grinding the gravel. He still didn’t look happy, but Jade was certain she saw a triumphant gleam in his disturbingly attractive eyes.

Saying nothing, she grabbed her mini backpack containing camera, notebook, phone and wallet, and followed him to his truck. He opened the door, took her backpack and tossed it into the back of the double cab, and was about to help her up into the high passenger seat. She stared at his outstretched hand.

“I can do it.”

His hand didn’t budge.

She flashed a quick glance at his face. Mistake. Though he neither smiled nor spoke, he stood watching her, serene and easy, as if he helped women into his truck all the time. Which he probably did.

Ignoring him, if such a thing was possible, as well as his offered hand Jade grabbed the side of the door and started to boost herself up. She was woefully short.

Strong, masculine fingers steadied her elbow with exactly the right amount of pressure. Gentle. Steady. Dependable.

Pulse clattering, which annoyed her no end, Jade managed a terse “Thank you.”

“No problem. It’s the Buchanon way.”

Whatever that meant.

These high cabs were a pain, but she was perfectly capable of helping herself. However, being treated with courtesy and respect was not a bad thing. She wanted that. Courtesy. Respect. But not the warm fuzzies Sawyer seemed to generate in her nerve endings.

As she settled into the oversize vehicle, Sawyer slammed the door, jogged around the front and hopped inside.

“Nice truck.” Might as well start with his vehicle, always a good way to get a man talking about himself.

“I like it.” He started the engine. A diesel rumble bubbled around them. “You want music?”

“I’m good. Whatever you usually do. Don’t let me get in the way.” Let me observe you in your natural habitat, like a lion or a grizzly.

He flipped on the radio, and contemporary Christian music came through the speakers. He turned the volume to low. “You can change channels if you want.”

She said nothing, but made a point to notice everything about the vehicle, jotting notes in her spiral book. The interior smelled like him—woodsy and male—and except for a pair of brown leather work gloves in the seat between them it was devoid of clutter. Unusual for a work vehicle.

She craned her head toward the truck bed. “Where are your tools?”

He kept his eyes on the road. “We pull a trailer onto the job site.”

Somewhere between his house and now he’d lost his jaunty attitude and gift of gab. He was none too happy with her, and she was fine with that. He was, however, surprisingly polite about it.

They rode along in silence for a couple more minutes, through pleasant neighborhoods and into the heart of Gabriel’s Crossing. The pretty little Texas town had been built near the Red River and, judging by the attention to curb appeal, probably belonged to one of those Main Street America organizations.

Large pots of geraniums and pansies decorated each corner with splashes of color, and brightly painted storefronts were well tended to show off everything from the latest boots and jeans to lawn mowers and lava lamps. A very good artist had painted a pioneer mural down the outside walls depicting a ferry crossing the river while men on horseback and families in wagons waited their turns.

“I don’t know what good this will do.”

She turned her attention toward him. Even though he stared straight ahead at the street, Jade’s stomach did that ridiculously annoying flutter thing. “Excuse me?”

“Visiting the damaged houses.” He flicked a glance her way and then looked back at the road. Long, strong fingers lightly sprinkled with dark hair curled around the steering wheel at eight and two. Manly hands devoid of jewelry. A carpenter’s hands. “All of them are repaired now and Abby’s home is rebuilt. She and Brady put it up for sale.”