Maverick for Hire

“Okay,” Nick said. “Let’s replay this. Body language 101. When you want to show a man you’re interested, face him.” He paused. “Face me.”

“Oh,” she said and turned her body toward his.

“Flip your hair,” he said. “Guys like it when you mess with your hair,” he said.

Cecelia twirled a strand of her hair. “Is this okay?”

Nick felt a weird tug of attraction. “Yeah, that’s good. Remember to lean in and look like you’re listening to everything he’s saying,” he said.

Cecelia leaned in and twisted her hair again. “Like this?”

“Yeah,” he said and met her gaze. Something strange flashed between them. He felt drawn to her in a way he’d never felt before. He lowered his head. “Yeah,” he repeated and pressed his mouth against hers. Her lips were so soft, so sweet, and he wanted so much more.

Cecelia drew back. “You kissed me,” she whispered. “Why did you do that?”

“I don’t know,” he said, pulling back and mentally swearing at himself. Why had he kissed her? He had clearly gone crazy.

Maverick for Hire

Leanne Banks

www.millsandboon.co.uk

LEANNE BANKS is a New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author who is surprised every time she realizes how many books she has written. Leanne loves chocolate, the beach and new adventures. To name a few, Leanne has ridden an elephant, stood on an ostrich egg (no, it didn’t break), gone parasailing and indoor skydiving. Leanne loves writing romance because she believes in the power and magic of love. She lives in Virginia with her family and a four-and-a-half-pound Pomeranian named Bijou. Visit her website, www.leannebanks.com.

This book is dedicated to my husband, who encouraged me through every day, no matter how unproductive I was.

Contents

Cover

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

Thank goodness she wasn’t attracted to him, Cecelia Clifton thought as she looked at Nick Pritchett. She’d known the carpenter for what felt like forever. They went all the way back to a shared childhood in Thunder Canyon. And now she frequently shared an after-work beer or water with him at the Ace in the Hole, the local backcountry bar in Rust Creek Falls, Montana. Built like a football player, Nick was all muscle. With blond hair and blue eyes full of humor and flirtatiousness, he wore his all-American looks with ease. Cecelia knew better than to fall for him, though. Nick had a good heart, but he wasn’t interested in marriage.

Cecelia tossed another dart at the board and smiled.

Nick groaned in pain. “Give me a break, Cece. A guy needs a win every now and then.”

“From what I hear, you’re winning all the time with all the women you have wrapped around your finger,” she said. Ever since Lissa Rourke, a volunteer with a charitable organization from New York, had blogged about the cowboys in Rust Creek after last summer’s Great Flood, a new type of visitor had been gracing the streets of town—young single ladies from around the country looking for love. As Lissa had spent time working hard to help Rust Creek Falls, she’d also found love with the local sheriff. Cecelia couldn’t deny part of the reason she’d come to Rust Creek was for a boost in her love life, but so far, she’d experienced zip in the romance department.

“Do you ever think about going back to Thunder Canyon?” she asked as she watched him send a dart soaring.

She noticed his dart landed closer to the bull’s-eye than hers had.

Nick frowned at her. “Why would I do that? Rust Creek is still bailing out from the big flood. Plus, they’ve welcomed me with open arms,” he said with a scalawag grin.

“Yes, they have,” Cecelia said drily and took her turn. She hit the closest to a bull’s-eye ever in this game.

Nick cursed under his breath. “You haven’t fallen in love with the town?”

“I have,” she said. “In a way.” She paused. “But...”

He glanced at her. “But what?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I came here with wide eyes with Jazzy. She’s married and super busy now. I feel, well...” She didn’t want to say the rest.

Cecelia and her best friend, Jasmine “Jazzy” Cates, had come to Rust Creek Falls together to find romance—and, of course, help the town with the recovery efforts after the flood the previous summer. Along the way, Jazzy had taken a job with local vet Brooks Smith. Their working relationship soon led to wedding bells. Only Cecelia knew the truth—that their quick vows were really a marriage of convenience, so that Brooks could convince his ailing father to let him take over the practice. Soon though, true love won out, and Brooks and Jazzy were as much in love as could be.

“Don’t tell me you were hoping for a Rust Creek cowboy,” Nick said.

“I was hoping for a fresh start and maybe a relationship,” she said and took a sip of her water. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing. Nothing,” he said and focused on the dartboard. He threw a dart that landed dead center and smiled. “Now that’s the way it should be.”

She scowled at him. “The game’s not over.”

“Good luck,” he said then shook his head. “I never thought you were one of the man-crazy women. You didn’t seem to be working hard at getting a guy.”

She shrugged. “No one likes to look desperate. But the truth is I haven’t clicked with any of the guys I’ve met. That makes me wonder if I should go back to Thunder Canyon. Maybe the pastures here aren’t as green as I’d thought they would be.”

“Whoa, whoa,” he said. “Are you gonna take your turn?”

Cecelia scowled again. “Okay, okay,” she said and sailed her dart dead center.

Nick cursed under his breath again.

“I think I’m ahead, now,” she said.

Nick frowned at her. “Maybe you haven’t given Rust Creek the full shot you should have.”

“I’ve been here for over a year,” she protested.

“Yeah, but you haven’t really—” He broke off. “Tried.”

“Tried?” she echoed. “I’ve gone out on a lot of dates. Trust me.”

“Yeah, but have you tried to sell yourself?”

“Sell myself?” she said, clearly appalled. “What are you talking about?”

“I don’t mean selling yourself that way.” He paused. “I mean that, in general, women need to sell men.”

She looked at him skeptically. “This sounds shady.”

Nick shrugged. “The truth is, the man is...the customer. You need to sell him in order to lasso him in.”

“That’s disgusting,” she said. “Disgusting.”

“It’s not,” he protested. “It’s the truth. A lot of men need to be shown what they want. Once they learn that, they’re ready to surrender to the noose of marriage.”

“Noose?” she echoed.

“That’s my interpretation. My brothers got married and they’re no fun anymore,” he said.

“According to whom?” she asked.

“According to me,” he said. “They always want to stay home with their wives.”

“Doesn’t that mean they’re happy to be with their wives?” she asked.

“I guess,” he said. “I just know I don’t want to become as boring as they are.”

Cecelia shook her head. “I’m so glad I know what a playboy you are,” she said.

“I’m not a playboy,” he said, pointing to himself. “I’m just trying to make some money. That’s why I started my Maverick for Hire business. A lot of women have been interested in giving me a honey-do list, so it just makes sense for me to make a full-time job out of it. You know what I did—put an advertisement in the Rust Creek Rambler newspaper for my handyman services, and I’ve been busy ever since. But we’ve gotten off track. You’re the one with the problem. If you want a man, Cecelia, you need to treat him like he’s a customer. I can tell you how.”

Horrified, Cecelia blinked at him. “I’m telling you that sounds an awful lot like prostitution.”

He shook his head. “You know I don’t mean that.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Cece, you know I think you’re great the way you are, but other guys want a little—” he shrugged his shoulders “—glamour.”

“Glamour?” she echoed. “In Rust Creek Falls?”

“Yeah, well, we’re a simple lot,” he said and scrunched up his face. “Do you really want to leave Rust Creek Falls?”

“I don’t know,” she said, looking away from him. “I just haven’t felt like I belonged here lately. And the truth is I was hoping I’d meet someone special here. Kind of like Jazzy did.”

He sighed. “I’d hate to lose my best bud,” he said. “You’re the only woman I know who doesn’t want me for my amazing body,” he said, joking. “Or to fix something in her house.

Cecelia rolled her eyes. “That’s your own fault for being such a flirt.”

He leaned toward her. “It’s not my fault all these women want my handyman services.”

“You’re profiting from it. Stop complaining,” she said.

“But—”

“Hey there, Nick,” a pretty brunette said as she bumped into him. “Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you!”

Cecelia noticed the woman was slurring her words.

“Hey, Daphne, good to see you again. I’ve been working hard lately,” he said. “How about you?”

She pointed her index finger at his chest. “I think we could be good together.”

Nick sighed. “You seem a little wobbly. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” she said and batted her eyelashes.

“I’m thinking you need to go home. Where are you living now?”

She sifted her fingers through his hair. “I’m renting a trailer out by Route 46.”

“How about you let me take you home?” he asked.

“I would love that,” she said, batting her eyelashes.

“Then, let’s go,” he said and tossed a backward glance at Cecelia. Designated driver again, he mouthed then shook his head as he took the woman’s arm and led her to toward the door.

Cecelia watched them leave then turned around and sent a dart directly into the bull’s-eye. She didn’t want to be judgmental, but she had a pretty good idea the pretty brunette was part of the Rust Creek Falls Gal Rush. Ever since Lissa’s blog about her time in Rust Creek Falls—and her proposal from the local sheriff—had gotten national recognition there just didn’t seem to be enough men to go around.

As if Cecelia didn’t have enough competition getting the attention of the local guys already. Feeling restless, she tossed the rest of her darts at the board. No need to hang around the bar any longer since Nick wasn’t here to amuse her. He would be busy with that pretty brunette who’d been dressed for prowling from head to toe. Long, perfectly arranged wavy hair, a face well enhanced with makeup and eyelashes so long they almost looked like spiders.

Cecelia rolled her eyes. She didn’t own a lick of makeup, and she was very firm about wearing her hair in a ponytail. The last time she’d neglected to pull her dark hair back, a circular saw had whacked off part of one side. She supposed her body wasn’t bad, but since she worked construction, she kept it well hidden beneath comfortable shirts and jeans.

Glancing down at her steel-toed boots, she felt another scrape of dissatisfaction.

Maybe she could borrow the kitchen at Strickland’s Boarding House, where she’d been staying since she arrived in Rust Creek Falls. Otherwise, she would be subjected to whatever she could get on her television. Thank goodness, Nick had bought and installed a satellite dish. He was also staying at Strickland’s, and he wanted sports. She wanted the cooking channel.

Cecelia stalked out of the bar and made the short walk to the rooming house. She took a deep breath and savored the pure Montana air. She wondered if Melba, the rooming house owner, would let Cecelia take over the kitchen tonight to experiment with a fresh apple cake recipe. Cecelia liked to bake, especially when she felt restless.

She climbed the steps into the rooming house and walked toward the den in the back. Melba was glued to the television.

“Hi,” Cecelia said. “What are you watching?”

“Reality show,” Melba said. “It’s the semifinals.”

“Do you mind if I use the kitchen for baking tonight?” Cecelia asked.

Melba shook her head. “Nope. What are you making?”

“Apple cake with caramel frosting,” Cecelia said.

“Sounds good. Can you make an extra one for breakfast?” Melba asked.

“I’m experimenting,” Cecelia warned.

“Your experiments have always turned out well,” Melba said.

Cecelia smiled. “Thanks, marvelous Melba.”

“You make my job easier. This way, I won’t have to make cinnamon rolls for breakfast in the morning.”

“What about Beth?” Cecelia asked, speaking of the part-time cook Melba had recently hired. Beth Crowder was a middle-aged single mother working multiple jobs while her son finished his last year of high school. Cecelia didn’t know any specifics, but she thought Beth may have been the victim of spousal abuse. Beth often appeared tired with shadows under her eyes, but she also came across as one of the most determined people Cecelia had ever met.

Melba shook her head. “Beth’s not coming in tomorrow, so your timing is perfect.”

Cecelia smiled. “If you say so,” she said and turned to walk away.

“I do and you contribute a lot to the community. Everyone loves you,” Melba said, tearing her gaze from the television. “Don’t you forget that.”

Cecelia wasn’t sure her contributions made that much of a difference, but Melba made her feel a little better.

“Thanks, Melba,” she said.

“My pleasure,” Melba said. “Can’t wait to smell that apple cake.”

Cecelia headed to the kitchen and pulled out the Granny Smith apples she’d bought earlier. She spent the next thirty minutes dicing apples, trying to chop out her frustration. Eight cups later, she was ready to start on the rest of the recipe. After she put the cakes in the oven, she sank onto a chair in the kitchen and sipped some tea. Baking usually calmed her nerves, but it hadn’t been working as well lately. She had grown to love Rust Creek Falls, but she wanted more. She wanted a family of her own, and she wasn’t finding it here. She wondered if she should get serious about going back to Thunder Canyon.

Part of the problem with that thinking was that she’d run away from a disappointing love affair in Thunder Canyon. When was she going to stop running?

Cecelia thought about the accountant she’d dated before he’d broken off with her for someone prettier and more sophisticated. She’d thought he’d taken her on private romantic dates because he had strong feelings for her, but in truth, he hadn’t wanted anyone to know he was dating Cecelia.

The truth had been devastating. It still stung when she thought about it, and she tried her best not to remember.

Between that terrible relationship and her lack of finding any real prospects here in Thunder Canyon, Cecelia was beginning to wonder if she would ever find love.

* * *

Halfway to the trailers set up on the edge of town, Nick saw Daphne with her head lolled back against the headrest. She was snoring like a freight train. It seemed like he was providing designated driver services to a woman who was clearly one of the Rust Creek Falls Gal Rush every other week or so. He appreciated what Lissa’s blog had done in providing volunteers and funds for Rust Creek Falls, but even Nick felt as though the resulting “Gal Rush” was overkill.

Some of these girls were city through and through and they had no clue how rustic Rust Creek Falls really was, along with how harsh Montana winters could be. Pulling in front of the trailers, Nick had no idea which one was Daphne’s current residence.

“Daphne,” he said, getting no response. “Daphne,” he said a bit louder, and nudged her arm. “I need to know which trailer is yours so I can help you inside.”

Five minutes later, he was headed back to the rooming house. As soon as he arrived, he picked up a text message for Maverick for Hire and returned the call. Nick much preferred sticking to business when he was doing handyman services. No need to muddy the water.

* * *

Cecelia must have fallen asleep, because the timer awakened her. Lifting her head from the table, Cecelia shook off her drowsiness and checked the cakes. They looked perfect, so she pulled them from the oven and put them on a cooling rack. The scent of cinnamon, apples and vanilla flowed through the air, calming her senses.

The back door opened and Nick strode into the kitchen. “Smells great. Can I have some?”

She shot a withering look at him. “Haven’t you had enough sweets tonight?”

He returned her look with a deadly expression. “You know I wouldn’t take advantage of a drunken woman,” he said. “I got her into her trailer and left. That was the plan.”

“Hmm,” Cecelia said and frowned.

“What?” he said. “A woman doesn’t have to be inebriated for me to get laid.”

Cecelia winced. “That’s a nice way of putting it.”

“Well, it’s true,” he said and looked at the cakes. “Aren’t they cool enough to eat yet?”

“Not unless you want to burn your tongue,” she retorted.

“I’m game,” he said. “I think you’re too conservative.”

“Okay,” she said and cut a small bite then stuffed it into his open mouth.

His eyes bulged and he took several shallow breaths. He closed his eyes and made a choking sound.

Cecelia wondered if she should perform the Heimlich maneuver. “Need water?”

“Yeah,” he managed.

She filled a glass and offered it to him. “Here you go.”

He gulped the water then swiped his mouth. “Thank goodness. Give me more of that cake. Best. Ever.”

Cecelia couldn’t help laughing. “But you nearly choked and burned yourself.”

“It didn’t kill me,” he said. “Give me more.”

For one hot second, she wondered what it would be like for Nick to use those words give me more in a totally different situation. She felt her cheeks heat at the thought. “I need to let them cool. I want to put a caramel glaze on top,” she said and turned away.

“Whew,” he said. “I didn’t think it could get better, but maybe...”

Cecelia smiled. She wouldn’t admit it, but Nick’s obvious craving for her baked goods made her feel warm inside. “Melba is going to serve some of it for breakfast tomorrow.”

“I’ll make sure to get up early. This won’t last long. You’re a doggone good cook, Cecelia. You’re gonna make some man a happy husband, and it will be a sad day for the rest of us.”

Cecelia rolled her eyes at his long face. “Something tells me you’ll survive.” She lowered her voice. “Plus, there’s no happy husband in my immediate future, so no worries.”

* * *

The next morning, Cecelia rose early and ate a quick bite of breakfast before she left to post signs for the food drive she had started for families still struggling after the Great Flood. Then she headed to one of her work sites to make sure the plumbers showed up for a house that needed massive reconstruction. As usual, the plumbers arrived late, but she pushed them to finish the job. After work, she drove throughout the county to post signs for the food drive. By the time she arrived back in Rust Creek Falls, it was dark. She headed to the Ace in the Hole just because she wasn’t quite ready to go back to her room.

Nick waved at her from the bar. “Let me buy you a beer,” he called over the loud fray of the crowd.

“Buy me a water,” she said as she walked toward him. “I’m dying of thirst.”

“Done,” he said and waved at the bartender.

Seconds later, a glass of ice water appeared. She sat down beside him at the bar. “I’m working on the food drive. I hope people will respond. I’m posting notices everywhere. Ever since I learned that some of the kids in school weren’t getting the food they needed months after the flood, I thought I should do something. Hopefully people will be generous. Their families still can’t afford to buy what they need. Some people are still struggling to make up income since the disaster.”

“You’re a good woman,” Nick said and lifted his beer to her glass of water.

She laughed and clicked her glass against his. “If you say so. I still think I may be heading back to Thunder Canyon soon. My time here may be just about done.”

Nick frowned. “No. The town still needs you. We all still need you.”

She leaned toward him and lowered her voice. “The truth is the pickings are a lot slimmer here than I anticipated.”

“For what?” Nick asked.

“Men,” she said.

“Ohhhh,” Nick said and leaned back in his chair. “Well, I told you that’s because you’ve been approaching this all wrong.”

Cecelia shook her head. “There’s nothing wrong with my approach. I am who I am.”

Nick sighed. “I told you before. You have to sell yourself.”

“I still say that sounds like prostitution,” she said.

“It’s not,” he said. “I don’t mean it that way. You just need to put on some lipstick and flirt a little. For starters,” he said and took a swig of beer.

“Why should I have to put on lipstick? Why shouldn’t he have to put on some lipstick?”

Nick gawked at her. “Why would a guy wear lipstick?”

“That’s not the point. Why should I have to work so hard to get a guy? Why shouldn’t he have to work harder to get me?”

Nick shrugged. “Because a guy doesn’t have to work hard. We’ll eat beans and weenies and watch sports on television until some woman drives us from our cave.”

“That’s ridiculous,” she said and took a long drink from her glass of water in hopes of cooling herself down.

“Ridiculous or not, it’s true. You can fight it till the cows come home, but men love the chase. They love when a woman flirts and makes an effort to win them over.”

Disgusted, she barely resisted throwing her water at Nick. She really wanted to smack him, but Cecelia was generally against violence. “Then you and all your men friends are going to miss out on the best women they could get,” she said and rose and walked away.

The next couple of days, Cecelia avoided Nick. Every time she thought about his philosophy about how to catch a man, it made her brain fry. Late Friday afternoon, as she supervised a construction site, one of the men, Bill Dayton, approached her.

“Hey there,” he said, tipping his hat.

“Hi,” she said and nodded in return. Bill was a hard worker and had always been friendly to her.

“I was thinking you and I could spend some time with each other. You want to get together tomorrow night?” he asked.

Surprised by his invitation, she paused a half beat, then asked herself why not? “What did you have in mind?”

“Dinner and just hanging out at my place,” he said. “Would that work for you?”

Cecelia swallowed a sigh. She wasn’t all that attracted to Bill, but she felt a voice on her shoulder urge her to give him a try. What did she have to lose? “Okay,” she said. “What time?”

“Four or four-thirty,” he said.

“That early?” she said.

He gave a sheepish grin. “Better to start early than late. I go to bed early,” he said.

Feeling a softening inside her, she smiled in response. “Well, thank you very much. Four-thirty will work for me.”