Page 3 of Mother Clucker

I put the nozzle back and moved to the driver’s door. I shot him one last glance and, dammit, he caught me.

“Leaving so soon?” he asked, his cockiness clear in his tone.

“Yes. My car doesn’t take a hundred dollars worth of gas.”

“My truck doesn’t either. It’s got dual gas tanks and takes over a hundred dollars to fill but that’s all I’m getting today.” He actually laughed as my eyes widened at that information.

Shaking my head I opened the door.

“Have a good day,” I said, choosing to take the high road. There was no winning this fight. I could see that.

“Oh, I will. Don’t you worry about that. Y’all do the same.”

“Yeah.” I slammed the door and clicked on my seat belt, mumbling as I did, “Butthead.”

In my rear view mirror I saw him still smiling in my direction, like I was ridiculous and he was in the right.

Guys like him were the reason I currently didn’t have a boyfriend. Well, one of the reasons. My bastard ex was the real reason, but that was another story.

Too bad the handsome ones were always the worst.

2

David

“Mr. Strickland?”

“Yup.” I stood and swept off my hat as a petite woman with chestnut-colored hair took a step toward me.

Her coloring reminded me a little of another attractive woman. One with the sun glinting reddish highlights off her strawberry blonde hair as she stood there and insulted my truck and me, then drove away in her little toy car.

I smothered the laugh the memory brought on.

Sparring with that one had been fun. The madder she got, the more I wanted to lay her across my lap and give her a whooping for having a smart mouth.

Damn, I loved a little attitude on a woman. I’d also loved taming her, just a bit.

“I’m so sorry to keep you waiting.”

“I think I can see my way to forgiving you . . . if you call me David. Please. Mr. Strickland is my papa and he’s still alive and kicking, thank the good lord.”

She smiled, the expression genuine as her whole face lit with it. “That’s very good to hear. And please, call me Anna.”

“Anna it is.” I nodded.

Habit had me checking the ring finger of her left hand. I’d done the same with gas chick. There’d been no ring on her left hand.

But I felt like kicking myself in the ass with my size thirteen boots when I caught myself looking now. I wasn’t here for a date—and a good thing too since Anna was very obviously sporting a wedding ring.

I was here to conduct business. Nothing but.

Strickland Feed Corporation’s reputation needed a makeover. A big one and fast. I was hoping Ms. Anna Barker could provide it. Her and her little animal shelters.

Word was she made a habit of helping out shelters across the country. Fundraising. Advocacy. Legal advice.

I did my research. Hell, it was easy today with the internet up in everybody’s business. She’d raised half a million dollars for a shelter in Temecula two years ago. And she sat on the board of the shelter here. Had even planted her own law firm next door to it.

That’s why I’d come to her office today. She was good at her job. And I was doing my absolute best to be good at mine as the new CEO of Strickland Feed.

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