Page 7 of Her Wild Cowboy Billionaire

They entered a large kitchen, and Willow’s mouth dropped open. Black granite countertops were everywhere. The cabinets, table and chairs were all oak, just like in her parent’s home. White marble tile covered the floor. Double ovens and the refrigerator were on one wall. The granite covered island held the sink or sinks, because she could only see the top of the faucet. In front of the island were oak stools that seemed to perfectly match the cabinets.

“After you’ve refreshed yourselves,” said Claudia, “we can go meet Travis. Follow me.” She started toward the door out of the kitchen.

“That would be preferable,” said Willow.

“What would be preferable?” asked a deep baritone voice from the doorway behind her.

Willow turned toward the voice. Oh, my goodness!

Chapter 2

Willow stared at the man standing in the doorway. This had to be Travis Morgan. Gold streaked his dark hair, probably from being in the sun. He’d combed it straight back, letting it curl at his collar. The black t-shirt he wore emphasized his broad chest and muscular arms, though she wondered how he’d managed to get into the shirt without help.

He needed a shave, though having a three-or-four-day growth of beard was popular now. His rich coffee brown eyes pierced her and drew her. She broke the spell and saw he had a cast to his knee on his left leg and one to the elbow on his left arm.

He looked her up and down. “So, you’re Willow Adams.”

“I...I...I am.” What was wrong with her? She’d seen handsome men before. But this man stole her breath and, clearly, her mind. Recovering her voice, she dipped her chin. “Yes, and this is my daughter, Mindy.” She placed her hand on Mindy’s shoulder.

The girl stepped forward and held her hand out to Travis. “I’m Mindy. Do you ride horses? Can you teach me?”

Willow looked down at her daughter. “Mindy. Stop and let Mr. Morgan enter the kitchen.”

Travis chuckled. “It’s fine. Yes, I ride horses when my leg isn’t busted. But even now, with your mother’s permission, I can probably teach you how to ride...” He looked up at Willow. “Assuming you stay.”

Mindy stepped back to her mother’s side and gazed up at her and clasped her hands under her chin. “Can we, Mom?”

Willow placed a hand on Mindy’s shoulder. “That and several other things are what Mr. Morgan and I still need to discuss.”

Travis lifted a brow. “You’re right, Mrs. Adams, we do.”

“It’s Ms. Adams, and I’d like to discuss our business in private.”

Claudia stepped forward. “Why doesn’t Mindy stay with me? We’ll make some cookies. I’ve already got the dough ready. Snickerdoodles are Travis’s favorite.”

“Mine, too.” Mindy turned and skipped back to Claudia’s side.

“Please come with me, Ms. Adams, and we’ll talk.” Travis turned and headed through the doorway; his gait was uneven because of the walking boot.

She followed him out of the kitchen, down the carpeted hallway to a door on the right.

He’d covered the walls of the hall with paintings. Western paintings that looked like those of Frederick Remington. Real Remingtons. These weren’t the prints she saw so many of. These were the real deal.

“Your paintings are wonderful. I’ve always loved Remington’s work.”

“So, do I. That’s why, when I was able, I began buying every painting and sculpture I could find. Some came from other collectors, and some have never seen the light of day. I bought those directly from his family.”

“I’m honored to see them.”

“This way.” He opened the door and entered, gesturing to a chair in front of the desk. “Please have a seat.”

She sat in one of the two black leather Queen Anne chairs in front of the oak desk. He seemed to like the light-colored wood. First in the kitchen and now here, in his office.

“Tell me about yourself, Ms. Adams.”

“What would you like to know? I’m a registered nurse and a single mother. I would have thought Grace would have told you my qualifications.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’re well qualified, but why would you take this job so far away from...everything? How do you expect to get your daughter to school?”