Page 4 of Craving Her Cowboy
He shrugged, finally dropping the fork onto his tray. “Not really.”
A challenge then. She leaned in, elbows on the tabletop. “You know what they say about isolation.”
He didn’t answer, just fixed her with that eyes-forward look she knew too well. It was the same face she’d worn through her last deployment, the one you used when the only thing holding you together was your refusal to let anyone see you crack.
Asha studied him, not bothering to hide it. She saw the burn scars peeking from under his sleeve, the set of his jaw, the way he sat like he was always bracing for impact. It was all there, if you knew how to read it.
She finished her food in silence, sensing the conversation had run its course. She stood, picked up her tray, and paused. “Well, I guess I’ll see you around.”
He looked up, an eyebrow raised. “Looking forward to it.”
She left before he could say anything else, but she felt the weight of his gaze on her the whole way to the exit. She pretended not to notice.
***
Asha hovered at the threshold of Andy’s office, rapping twice against the doorframe. She didn’t enter until Andy’s voice called out, “That you, Asha? Come on in.”
He was behind his desk, sleeves rolled and reading glasses perched at the end of his nose, buried in a stack of what looked like payroll ledgers and horse vaccination schedules. He looked up and offered a smile that managed to be both genuine and exhausted.
She stood straight, feet shoulder-width, arms at her sides. “I heard you need extra hands on the cabin project.”
He removed his glasses and set them down with a click. “That’s right. You volunteering?”
“If you’ve got room.” She kept her eyes level, not quite at parade rest but close.
“Hell, you’re the only one other than Gavin to ask,” he said, the smile stretching into something fatherly. “You ever build before?”
“Some,” she said. “We did a lot of forward operating base work in Afghanistan. Temporary structures, mostly, but I know my way around a framing gun and a tape measure.”
Andy’s gaze sharpened, and he let a moment tick by, searching for the hitch, lie, and line. He found none. “Cabin up on the ridge is a two-three man job, at least. Or two-three people, I should say.” He tapped a finger against the desk. “You got issues working with McAllister?”
“No, sir.” It wasn’t a lie, not exactly. She had no idea how it would be to work with Gavin. But she was curious about him. Maybe a little wary, but nothing that qualified as an issue. She wondered if Andy’s question was standard, or if he already sensed the friction.
“Good. He’s got the plans, I’ve got the materials coming in this week. You two can start prepping tomorrow morning.”
“Yes, sir.” She allowed herself to relax a fraction, the tension in her shoulders sliding down to a manageable level.
Andy waved off the “sir.” “We’re not the Corps, Monroe. First name’s fine.” He reached for his glasses again, then reconsidered. “You settling in okay?”
“It’s quiet here,” she said. “Takes getting used to.”
He grinned. “I’ve had guys tell me it’s the silence that almost kills them. Out there, you get used to the constant noise. The minute it stops, your brain starts thinking something’s wrong.”
She nodded but didn’t elaborate. It wasn’t silence that bothered her, but the way it left room for other things to rise up: old images, stray thoughts, the kinds of memories that turned quiet into an ambush.
Andy made a note on his legal pad. “Any dietary restrictions?”
She shook her head. “I’ll eat anything.”
“Good. I’ll warn Miss Bee to double up on the breakfast casserole. That woman worries more about empty plates than most folks do about… hell, just about anything else.” He glanced at the door as if sensing movement in the hall.
A shadow crossed the frosted window before the handle turned. Gavin McAllister walked in with a heavy tread, stopping short when he registered Asha already in the room. He flicked his eyes from Andy to Asha, then back again, locking down any reaction behind a flat, unreadable mask.
“McAllister, Monroe here’s your new partner on the ridge project. She’s got the hands-on experience. You’re team lead, but don’t get fancy with the chain of command.”
Gavin’s arms crossed. His jaw flexed once, twice. “Thought this was solo work.”
Andy’s smile didn’t fade. “You thought wrong. Last time you did solo work, I spent three hours at Urgent Care getting your hand stitched up.”
