Her Bucking Bronc Read Online Free Page B

not underestimate her, but he also didn’t need to let her run roughshod over him. Or dance on the damn site again.
    “Are you hungry?” She appeared as if he’d conjured her, holding an old-fashioned picnic basket and smiling.
    Damn.
    Hannah didn’t know she was going to cook for him until she was packing the food up. The morning had been full of searching websites for décor, lighting, and equipment for the restaurant. Her stomach had reminded her the noon meal was approaching.
    She managed to make steak sandwiches with caramelized onions, Havarti cheese, and toasted pretzel buns she’d baked two days earlier. She’d made enough for three people and packed it all up along with cold soda and two pieces of the apple pie she’d made four days ago.
    Apparently Hannah cooked and baked when she was upset. Most people ate. She communed with flour and baking soda.
    When she arrived at the jobsite, her stomach fluttered after she spotted him. He was looking through the plans with one foot resting on the bumper of his truck. His ass was nicely defined in his worn jeans.
    She didn’t want to notice how attractive the man was, but he had the physique of a man who worked for a living. Not to mention a spectacular ass.
    Too bad he was a bit of a jerk.
    Hannah had put on her happy face and tried her best to be nice to him. If she wanted the restaurant rebuild to go on schedule and to her specifications, she had to be nice to him. Even if he was hard to be nice to. And stubborn.
    And too damn sexy.
    “Are you hungry?” She kept her tone light and a smile pasted on her face.
    “No.” He turned back to the plans. “I skip lunch a lot.”
    She gritted her teeth and walked toward him. “Today you won’t skip. I made us steak sandwiches to celebrate the start of the new restaurant.”
    He made a few notations on the plans.
    Hannah slammed the basket on the plans with a thump. “Did I interrupt your work?” She flipped the basket open with a grin. “I don’t cook for many people, so be polite and eat the food.”
    Dylan straightened up and narrowed his gaze. “You don’t know how to behave, do you?”
    “I behave like I want to.” She shrugged. “The world needs to be shaken up now and then.”
    “And you’re just the woman to do it, right?” His nose twitched. “Did you say steak sandwich?”
    “Uh-huh. With caramelized onions and Havarti on my homemade toasted pretzel rolls.” She waved her hands to push the scent toward him. “It’s a peace offering. Don’t be a dick about accepting it.”
    To her surprise, he threw his head back and laughed. “You sure have a set of brass balls.”
    The comment stung, but she didn’t let it show. Her height and her inability to simply accept what she didn’t believe gave her a reputation as an Amazonian bitch. Better Dylan knew about it from her than from some other concerned citizen.
    “Some people think I’m a bitch.” She reached into the basket to give her hands something to do; otherwise she would either make a fist or pull out her hair. “I know what I like and I have high standards. If I was a man, people would say I’m strong-willed.”
    He accepted the sandwich from her. “It’s still warm.”
    “I drove over from the ranch. Staying with my brother and mom isn’t my idea of fun. I think I’m driving him crazy too.” She handed Dylan a second sandwich. “Because I know construction is hard work.”
    He saluted her with the roll. “Thank you. These smell wonderful.” He walked toward the back of his truck and pulled the tailgate down. “I don’t have a fancy table and chairs, but I got a seat to share.”
    She picked up the basket and followed. Hannah climbed up on the tailgate and pulled out the third sandwich. “Nothing to say about the reputation?”
    “Nah. People in small towns spend half their time watching their neighbors and the other half gossiping about them. It’s the reason I don’t live in a small town.” He unwrapped the sandwich