Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
Wyatt
“I’ve seen men with thirty years on the job who couldn’t get these crews to move as fast as you do, Emily.
You’ve got a real head for this stuff.” My dad’s voice is gruff, but the respect in it is unmistakable.
He’s leaning against the fence, arms crossed, watching the bridge work with a satisfied tilt of his chin.
“Oh, well…I think I may have scared them a little into submission, but I’ve always wanted to branch into project management. I kinda love it.” Emily beams, bringing her hand to her forehead to shield the sun from her eyes as she admires the outcome of her plans.
She’s clearly in her element. She offers him that luminous smile that always seems to kick the air out of my lungs.
Yeah, right, I think to myself, pulling my hat lower to shadow my eyes.
Submission isn’t the half of it. None of these guys has taken their eyes off her in three days.
I’m not denying she’s fucking good at what she does.
I’ve spent the better part of seventy-two hours leaning against my truck, watching her navigate the chaos.
I’ve watched her explain potential structural issues with a confidence that silenced the foreman, watched her bark orders when the concrete truck was late, and solve problems that would have had most city engineers running for their air-conditioned office buildings. I’ve never seen anything like it.
But what’s eating at me is the way some of these assholes are tracking her.
I see the whispering and the way they elbow each other when she flips her hair or leans over a set of blueprints, making the Wranglers of her jeans pull tight.
They don’t see her brilliant mind or the unwavering grit she possesses.
They only see a blonde that appears completely out of place in the dirt.
Turns out, I’m no better than these idiots because, like them, I’m noticing the way her Wranglers fit around her ass and the way her thick, beautiful hair is pulled into a long braid that makes her look far too adorable for a construction site.
My jaw tightens until it aches. I want to tell them to get their eyes back on the job, but I’m learning to bite my tongue where Emily is concerned. She’s not mine to defend.
But in contrast to the dirty minds currently tracking her, I also see the light in her big blue eyes when she talks about the technical specs.
People actually listen when she explains her ideas.
She’s coming alive right in front of me, carving out a space for herself in a world that usually tries to chew women like her up.
It’s terrifying and beautiful all at once.
“Wyatt, you listening?” Dad nudges me.
“Yeah,” I grunt, finally pulling my gaze away from her, pointing out a flaw I’ll never wrap my head around. “I’m listening.”
Emily has made her way back to the foreman to discuss tomorrow’s plan. The job is supposed to be done in another week, but they’re running ahead of schedule.
“Good. Because I’ve got something I want to run by her. The power line situation…”
My head snaps toward him, stomach dropping into my boots. “No. Dad—don’t. That’s way too messy to drag her into.”
“She’s an engineer, Wyatt,” he says, his voice an urgent warning. “She’s the only one who can find a way to stop ‘em. Look at her. She’s a firecracker. You really think she can’t handle a few government bureaucrats?”
I look back at her. She’s laughing at something the foreman said, looking effortless and beautiful and entirely too good for the mess my family is in.
My gut twists. I don’t want her stuck to a sinking ship, and I sure as hell don’t want her staying just because she feels some obligation to save us.
“I don’t know, Dad,” I mutter, but my voice is tight. “Is she even planning on staying much longer?”
“You tell me,” he counters, his eyes fixed on her. “Depends on if she finds a reason to stay.”
I hold his gaze for a long moment. I’m not entirely sure I like what he’s insinuating. “Look, Kassie’s already handling the legal end. We don’t need more people involved.”
“Wyatt, your sister understands the law to some degree, but even she knows they’ve got us over a barrel with this. We need someone who understands the technicalities of the proposal. Find engineering loopholes. We at least need to give it a shot, even if she comes back with nothing.”
I sigh, shifting on my boots uneasily. My name might also be on the deed to this ranch, but my dad still runs the show when it counts. If he’s made up his mind, there’s no point in digging in my heels.
“Fine. Whatever.” I shrug, though the idea sits uneasily in my gut.
“Hey, Emily!” My dad brings his fingers to his lips and whistles, cutting through the noise of the construction crew. “Come here a sec!”
He gestures her over to where we’re leaning against the hood of his truck.
She nods brightly, giving the foreman a quick wave goodbye, and makes her way toward us.
The mountain sunlight catches in the loose strands of her hair, making her look even more like she belongs in a different world than this one.
“What’s up?” she asks breathless and grinning.
“I need you to take a look at something,” Dad says, his voice tightening. “Something…sensitive.”
She furrows her brow and cocks her head.
“We—uh—we seem to have run into a little issue with the state,” my dad says, his voice losing its usual grit as he speaks.
Emily’s eyes drop to the documents Dad has laid out on the hood, and she immediately starts scanning. Her entire posture shifts as she reads. The woman who was just laughing and joking with the crew vanishes and is replaced by a laser-focused engineer.
“These are plans the state has dropped on us.” His fingers stab at a set of blueprints as he talks.
“Apparently, they need to increase power access significantly because of a load of fancy purpose-built ‘lifestyle’ developments they’re throwing up in the next county over.
They’ve got it in their heads that the land by the creek is the best path. ”
He shakes his head, his jaw working as he looks over the horizon. “They’ve offered a sum for the land, but it’s a kick in the fucking balls—pardon my language—if you ask me. It’s pennies on the dollar for land that’s been in my family for generations.”
Emily's brow furrows, her eyes darting between the maps and the legal documents. “They’re citing some pretty watertight stuff here, Owen.”
“They’re citing whatever fancy words their lawyers cook up to make it sound legal to steal land from a rancher.
They aren’t just asking for the land, Emily.
They’re looking to devalue every acre I own.
It starts with a powerline, and before you know it, there’s a whole industrial corridor here.
” He taps at a specific point on the map.
“And look where they’ve drawn the line. Right through the creek bed and up the ridge. ”
“This is…” Emily begins, her voice trailing off as she traces a line on the map.
“Kassie’s house,” I cut in harsher than I intended, but the thought of my sister losing her home to a row of steel towers makes my blood boil.
“Shit.” She flips through a couple more pages, her fingers moving with a speed that tells me she’s seen thousands of these files. She stalls when she lands on a set of technical drawings, her eyes narrowing as she takes in the elevations.
“And you need me to find something wrong with this, I’m guessing?” She looks up with a knowing grin playing on her lips.
“Well, that’s what I’m hoping,” Dad answers. “I need you to find a way to tell the state to take their towers and shove ‘em where the sun don’t shine.”
She lets out a sigh, leaning her hip against the truck. “I’m not going to lie, Owen…I’m usually the one drawing up the plans for the state in places like this.”
I tense at the admission. My jaw sets, and I feel that old instinct to pull away. She’s been one of them.
Dad’s brow furrows too, the same doubt probably flickering through his mind.
“But,” she adds, holding my gaze for a second as if she can read the suspicion written all over me, “that does mean I have a bit of an inside edge. And I have people in the right places.”
“That’s what I was hoping,” Dad says, his shoulders relaxing a fraction.
Emily turns back to the folder, her brow furrowed in concentration. “Ah—okay. Strange, I guessed they would have taken out an injunction for the survey. Did you get an independent one yet?”
“Kassie’s been looking for someone who doesn’t have a history of corruption,” I mutter. “Around here, the state surveyors usually see exactly what the government wants them to see.”
She huffs a short laugh. “Don’t worry. I know someone who can handle that.” She reads a little more, her fingernails tapping against the hot metal of the hood.
“Okay, the legal stuff looks pretty watertight upon a first glance. What we need is a technical or land loophole nobody’s seen yet.
Leave this with me for a few days, and I’ll see what I can find,” Emily says, her voice snapping into a professional clip that sounds nothing like the woman I’d hauled out of that bar the other night.
Which makes her annoyance at me even more justified.
I’m so fucking turned on right now.
“I’ll head up there after I drop Alex at school tomorrow, see if I can do my own calculations. I’ll try and find out which engineering firm has the contract too.”
“Thanks, Emily. We really owe you one.” My dad sounds a lot more relieved than he has in a while.
“Well, I haven’t solved it yet, but I’ll do my best.” She offers him that little half smile. Great, now my insides feel like they’ve dissolved.
So much for keeping her at arm’s length. I’ve spent every minute since that night at the bar trying to convince myself she’s nothing but a temporary guest and an old family friend that will leave soon, and now my father has basically locked her into a task force to save our legacy.
She checks her watch, shifting the heavy folder to her other arm. “Well, I need to go pick up Alex. Everything’s running as it should up here, Owen. You guys can leave the crew to it.”
“Good work, Emily.” My dad is practically beaming at her.
I stand there, acutely aware of the way I’m grinding my teeth. This woman—this stunning, complicated woman I should be avoiding like the plague—has somehow landed herself as my kid’s nanny, and now she’s been tasked with saving my goddamn ranch.
Over the last few weeks, we seem to have found a rhythm that works.
It’s a safe, platonic cordiality that keeps the peace between us.
We’re polite over coffee, we’re professional about the groundwork.
I give her a wide berth in the house, and she keeps her distance in the yard.
It’s the safe distance I told myself we needed.
But now I have to watch her be the smartest person on my property and pretend I don’t jack off to the image of her in that wet fucking T-shirt every night.
I watch her walk away, her boots kicking up dust as she heads for the SUV.
I can feel my father’s stare burning a hole in the side of my face.
He doesn’t say anything to me directly, but as he pulls open the truck door, he mutters something under his breath loud enough for the wind to carry it to me.
“Stop fighting the current, Wyatt. You’re just gonna get tired.” He climbs in and slams the door, leaving me standing in the heat, watching her taillights disappear over the ridge.