Hell Yeah!: Her Hell Yeah Cowboy (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Harland County Series Book 8)

by Donna Michaels

  “I…ah…” She blinked and pulled out of his arms, adjusting the shoulder strap of a laptop case he hadn’t seen. “Sorry, I have to go. I-I’m late for an interview.”

  Before he gathered enough brainpower to respond, she was already out the door. Which was for the better. Her eyes were big and brown and definitely had the ability to reach his heart. Hell, they already had, and he still hadn’t recovered by the time he returned to the table and sat down.

  “Well?” Linc leaned close.

  Logan frowned, his mind trying to shake the fog the woman seemed to have cast around his damn head. “Well what?”

  “What color were her eyes?”

  Shit, he’d hoped the collision had been out of the table’s line of sight.

  “Brown. Definitely brown.” His brother snickered into his beer.

  Not just any brown. More like the color of caramel melted in milk chocolate. Something in her gaze made Logan hot. Very hot. He could still feel the impact.

  “She was cute,” Linc said. “What’s her name?”

  “I didn’t ask.” He didn’t want to know. Well, he did but he didn’t. Knowing would make it too damn tempting to look her up.

  Which was a bad idea. Real bad. Especially since she had big, brown eyes that could melt his guarded heart.

  “Her name’s Chloe Davis,” Joseph supplied with a grin.

  Dammit.

  “She’s a friend of Avery’s,” his wife added.

  Which explained why the woman was near enough for Cady to sense earlier, but not visible to them. Joseph’s brother Isaac owned Hardbodies, and he and his wife Avery lived right above the place. Chloe must’ve come from there. It also explained the hot wings. Avery made the best wings. They were Logan’s favorite.

  But he sure as hell never experienced them quite this way before. Leaking from a container carried by the hottest damn woman to grace the earth.

  He reached for his glass and met Cady’s gaze. There was a question in her eyes, one he wasn’t ready to answer. But he did have one of his own.

  “Are you sure I’ve crossed paths with that woman? Because I would’ve remembered her.”

  She was too beautiful to forget. Incredible eyes. Button nose. Full lips.

  “Yes,” Cady answered. “Sometime in the past, but I don’t know when. That part is muddy.”

  “Well, buddy, you might as well concede now,” Joseph said. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that fate has its own agenda.”

  “I heard that,” Linc muttered, raising his glass, faraway look entering his eyes.

  Logan knew where his brother had gone. To that damn battlefield in the Middle East.

  “She’s already touched your heart,” Cady said, bringing Logan’s mind back to the present.

  The woman was good, but damn, had his heart rocked so hard before that she’d felt it clear across the bar?

  “Yes,” she replied as if reading his mind, which he suspected was another of her abilities. “But I was talking about your shirt.”

  Joseph laughed quietly but didn’t say a word.

  “Looks like she left quite an impression on you, bro.” Linc chuckled, having apparently recovered enough to nod toward Logan’s chest.

  He glanced down at his shirt, and a smile twitched his lips. Well, hell. All the signs were there. He was fighting a losing battle. It was as clear as the palm print centered right over his heart. Curiosity got the better of him.

  Taking a drink of his beer, he sat back and nodded. “Tell me what you know about Chloe Davis.”

  Chapter Two

  It was him.

  The man in the newspaper clipping she kept in her purse to remind her of what she’d done.

  Dammit.

  By the time Chloe stepped outside Hardbodies, she felt like a rubber chicken her body shook so hard. One without a head. It explained her stupidity. The poor guy wasn’t even in town an hour and she coated him with wing sauce. Hot wing sauce. The unexpected meeting just confirmed the prudence of her earlier plan.

  Avoid Logan McCall at all costs.

  Disaster happened whenever they met. The last time had ruined his life. No way would she do it again. She should’ve gotten her rear in gear the second she learned the McCalls were meeting her friend Avery’s brother-in-law for a welcome home drink at the bar.

  Yesterday, she’d met her online client Avery and her husband Isaac McCoy for the first time in person, along with Joseph and Cady McCoy and their cute little angel aptly named Angel over a nice dinner. Chloe had made plans to meet today to discuss branding and book covers for her friend’s new series.

  What were the chances Logan would return on day two of Chloe’s three-day stay in Kerrville? Hell, there were lots of hours in a day. Why did it even have to be the same damn hour?

  Oh, yeah, that’s right. Because she had zero freaking luck, that’s why.

  Seriously. The same time?

  Fate was getting its jollies toying with her. Dangling the man of her dreams in front of her like the biggest, juiciest apple on a branch just out of reach. A man she couldn’t have. One she didn’t deserve.

  Didn’t stop her from wanting him from afar, though.

  The internet was great for whenever she needed a Logan fix. Since his family owned a nationwide chain of sporting goods stores, and he was an executive, plus the charity work he did with the McCoys, his handsome face graced the net often.

  He was even better looking in person than she remembered. Bigger. Broader. Sexier.

  Harder.

  Dammit.

  She stopped in the parking lot to fan herself with her free hand. Bumping into Logan had been like hitting a lean, hard wall of heat. The buoyancy in her curves had her bouncing off the man’s muscles, but she barely had time to curse the reason for those curves—her addiction to cheddar chips—when quick reflexes had his strong hands grasping her arms and holding her in place against that hot, hard body of his. Her lips twitched at the memory. She might reward herself with a few chips from the bag in her hotel room tonight.

  It’d been heaven in his arms.

  At first, she hadn’t realized it was Logan. She’d been too busy trying to wipe the sauce off her poor, unsuspecting victim before he got burnt. Then she saw it. The dead sexy tribal tattoo banding his arm just above a scar she’d recognize anywhere.

  Because she gave him that scar.

  And had a matching one on her hip.

  Unable to resist, she’d met his gaze, a gaze she saw in her dreams at night. Not quite blue, not quite gray, with three gold flecks. Eyes as unique as the man. Realization had stolen her breath while a strange, crazy current sucked the common sense from her brain.

  Good thing she had a healthy survival instinct, born from years of taking care of herself and her younger sister. Despite legally having a stepmother, she and her sister had pretty much been responsible for each other since they were in their early teens.

  A double buzz from her phone in her pocket snapped her out of her miserable past.

  Reminder alarm.

  The interview she’d mentioned was real…but online, and not for another hour. Still, she needed to get moving. Last thing she wanted was for Hottie McCall to find her lingering in the parking lot. She didn’t want him to find her at all. Good thing her stay in Kerrville was short and temporary. Business related.

  Best thing about being a graphic artist was the ability to travel anywhere and bring her office with her. Who was she kidding? Chloe longed to put down roots and open an actual physical office. One complete with state of the art equipment. Not refurbished laptops more temperamental than her stepmother between sugar daddies.

  The alarm buzzed in her pocket again.

  Her cue to stop feeling sorry for herself. She’d find a home and then office space soon, after landing this big contract. She glanced down at her once pristine blouse. The only one she’d ever purchased new. Foolish of her to think she could tempt fate by wearing it for two business meetings. White, silk, and
on sale. She’d dined on noodles for a solid week in order to afford her interview blouse. Now it was ruined. No amount of stain removers would get the orange out.

  A smile tugged her lips. Totally worth it.

  She closed her eyes and relived the feel of being pressed against Logan, sauce bonding her to his hot, sexy form. Damn, the man had some serious muscles going on under his T-shirt. She opened her eyes and sighed. Perhaps she shouldn’t be so mad at fate for tossing them together today, Chloe mused as she continued to walk toward her old truck, passing a much nicer black pickup with a National Guard sticker on the back of the cab window.

  Logan’s. Had to be.

  She stopped and stared, her pulse hiccupping as she raised a hand, hovering above the hood. Was it illegal to touch someone’s vehicle without permission? Chloe had no idea, but she did know it was stupid and childish. The truck sure was gorgeous, though. She wanted to touch the Ford and make a pact.

  Someday…someday, she was going to own something so beautiful.

  She glanced around and saw no one. Screw it. What could happen if she touched it? A visit from the truck police?

  Silently snickering at her stupid joke, she lowered her hand to caress the hood…and an alarm instantly went off loud enough to wake the dead.

  In Wisconsin.

  After going into cardiac arrest, peeing her pants, and returning to the skin she’d jumped out of—not necessarily in that order—Chloe made a mad dash for her truck, never more grateful to own an older model too obsolete to worry about leaving unlocked.

  In under five seconds, she was heading down an unfamiliar road that took her away from Hardbodies and Logan McCall who, no doubt by now, was in the parking lot checking on his squawking Ford.

  As a precaution, she kept turning down streets and glancing in her rearview, until she was sure no one followed. Still shaking when she parked at the hotel on the outskirts of town, Chloe scrambled into her room, and flicked on the lights. After she set her laptop and chicken wings on the table, she locked the door, drew the blinds, sank onto the bed…and burst out laughing.

  Man, she was such a goof sometimes. If anyone had caught what just happened on camera and sent it in to that video show, they’d make some good money at her expense.

  Still smiling, she rose to her feet and removed her ruined blouse to discover similar stains on her bra. Great. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. Not enough time for a shower. And since she was too amped up to eat the wings, she’d nuke them in the room’s microwave later.

  Working efficiently, she washed up and put on a clean bra, rinsed her blouse inside out under cold water, then her stained bra before hanging them on the shower bar. Life taught her to be frugal. Maybe she could salvage them. Right now, she needed to finish getting dressed and ready for her online video interview.

  She was just grabbing her second favorite business blouse from the closet when her sister called. “Hey, Stefanie. How goes it?” she asked as she set it to speaker and placed the phone on the table to finish getting dressed.

  “Slow,” came the disheartened reply. “I’d rather be in Texas with you.”

  “I know.” Ever since their father died and stepmother dragged them to Vegas to follow a sugar daddy, she and her sister had dreamed of returning to Hill Country. It’d taken longer than expected—fourteen years—but now that Chloe was there, she was determined to succeed and pave the way for her sister. “I can’t wait for you to join me.”

  “Next Friday can’t come fast enough. That’s when I give my two-week’s notice,” Stef replied, tone light with excitement.

  She understood her sister’s eagerness, heck, she could feel it vibrating through her phone, but they’d agreed to a plan. Take their bachelor’s degrees in Graphic Design, and five year combined work experience for world renowned corporations, and form their own company.

  So, while Stefanie stayed in Vegas until her second year employment anniversary passed, Chloe headed to Texas to meet with clients she already worked with online, like Avery, as well as scout out the towns throughout Hill Country for a good spot to settle.

  “Where exactly are you today?”

  “I just finished visiting Avery and I’m back at the hotel,” she replied.

  “So…you’re in Kerrville?”

  She nodded as if her sister could see her. “Yep.”

  “Any Hottie McCall sightings?”

  Oh…she saw him all right. “Yeah.” Hell, yeah.

  “Really? No-o-o!” Stefanie’s tone was a cross between mortified and amused.

  Chloe was team mortified.

  “He’s back in the states? Since when?”

  “I’m not sure when he got back from deployment, but according to Avery, he and his brother were returning to Kerrville today.” Look at that. Her voice was steady. She gave nothing away as she fished her laptop out of the bag for her meeting in less than fifteen minutes.

  “And you saw him.”

  She nodded again. “Yep.”

  “Oh. My. God. You did more than see him!” Amusement now coated her sister’s words.

  It wasn’t funny.

  The one person in all of Texas Chloe did not want to meet face to face she literally met face to…well, throat.

  She could still feel the brush of his hot skin against her nose. Damn, he’d smelled great. Like guy soap and hot man…and wing sauce.

  “Tell me! Oh, you have to tell me, Chloe. What happened?” her sister begged.

  She plugged the power cord into the wall and shrugged. “Disaster. What else?”

  “Chloe!”

  “Fine.” Only because she needed to vent did she give in. Chloe flicked her laptop on and plopped into a chair. “I was in a hurry to get back here so I could prepare for my interview and I ran right into Logan.”

  “With your truck?” Stef’s voice rose on the last word.

  “No. Worse. My body,” she replied. “And container of hot wings Avery insisted I take with me.”

  “Oh, wow. I’m sorry, Chloe.” Her sister’s chuckle filled the room, sounding anything but sorry.

  “Me, too. I ruined his shirt, and my favorite blouse.”

  “Did he recognize you?”

  “No, thank goodness. I was fourteen back then and all legs and arms and drenched, clutching a screeching cat. Heck, even I wouldn’t recognize me.”

  “So, what happened?”

  “You mean besides me making a complete fool of myself?” She snorted. “I told him I was sorry and that I had an interview, then I left.”

  But not before some serious chemistry zinged between them. Chloe hadn’t expected that. She set her chin in her hands and bent elbows on the table and sighed. If only she hadn’t caused him bodily harm. Ruined his baseball career. Changed the course of his future.

  “Is he still good looking?”

  “Better. Taller. Hotter,” she gushed. “And his eyes, Stef, they’re even lighter than I remembered.”

  “Damn, he did have some pretty amazing eyes,” her sister said. “I know you wanted to avoid him, Chloe, but what happened to him during that flood wasn’t your fault.”

  Yes, it was. “We’ll always be on opposite ends of that argument, so let’s agree to disagree.”

  Her sister’s sigh echoed through the phone. “Okay. I’ll drop it. Let’s talk about the interview. Are you ready? Need to bounce anything off me? And are you sure you want to go through with it considering who it’s with?”

  Last month, Chloe’s former professor had called to tell her he’d passed her information to A.J. McCall, owner and CEO of a nationwide sporting goods conglomerate—and Logan’s father. Apparently, Mr. McCall had asked about her because of work she’d done for a competitor six months ago while employed by a prestigious graphic design company in Nevada.

  “Yes, I want to go through with it,” she answered. “It’ll be fine. Their company headquarters are in Austin, so I’d be consulting up there or online. According to the internet, Logan works out of the San Antoni
o store. My chances of running into him are slim.”

  “Just like your chances of running into him in Kerrville,” Stef pointed out.

  Chloe chose not to think about it. “Besides, my odds of landing this job are a longshot at best. I mean, come on, Stef, this is the McCall’s freaking nationwide sporting good company we’re talking about. They can afford to hire anyone they want. Why they’re even considering me is a mystery.”

  “See? That’s where you’re wrong, Chloe. You never give yourself any credit. Your portfolio speaks for itself, along with your success. And I don’t remember you going to them with an application, did you?”

  “No.”

  “Exactly. AJ McCall sought you out. So, embrace that. Own it. And nail that interview.”

  “Okay. I will.” She straightened in her seat and smiled. “Thanks, Stef.”

  “You’re welcome. Love you. Call me afterward and let me know how it goes.”

  After agreeing, Chloe hung up and rushed into the bathroom to run a brush through her hair and double check to make sure no wing sauce remained. Satisfied, she returned to the table, sat back down, clicked the link Mr. McCall supplied in an email, and logged in.

  Quieting her nerves with a deep breath, she sent a silent request to the good luck fairy for a smooth interview.

  A second later, a handsome, older version of Lincoln materialized on the screen. She’d seen enough photos of Logan’s twin over the years to catch the unmistakable resemblance here. Their father had the same strong jaw, brown hair with some silver at the temples, but his eyes were a solid gray.

  “Hello, Ms. Davis. Thank you for agreeing to this meeting.”

  “Thank you for asking to meet with me, Mr. McCall.” Look at her, sounding confident and at ease when inside her stomach was a ball of fluttering butterflies.

  “As you know, I was very impressed with the campaign you did for Bass. I’d like you to work for us on a special campaign, designing brochures, magazine ads, billboards, the whole gamut. And I look forward to beating them in the numbers this time.”