Page 1 of Winning His Wager

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She had madea bet with her worst enemy, and Dylan Talley was going towinit, no matter what.

All it would take would be living in the man’s house.

Cooking for him.

Cleaning up after him.

Darning his socks.

Washing his undies.

Andprovingto him that she could take care of herself. Without her family—specifically, her rather overbearing and domineering father—doing everything for her.

Dylan was going to do it. Six months working forhim.She was going to be the best housekeeper he had ever seen.

Then she was going to sit back and watch Fletcher Tyler eat his words.

She was looking forward to it too.

Dylan stepped inside the house that had spawned her personal nemesis, Fletcher “Truckboy” Tyler, and his far-too-gorgeous brothers and took her first real look around.Thiswas going to be her home for the next six months. Whether he liked it or not. It was a matter of Dylan-pride, after all. “So, this is your cave? I am surprised there aren’t cave worms or cowboy bats flying around the place.”

It was actually a rather welcoming house. The colors and wood paneling were way out of date, but there were hardwood floors that had been stained a really pretty cherry. Ageless. The living room was definitely a man’s living room, with a big ugly recliner and two rather large couches. There was an old rag rug in the center and a coffee table that had seen better days. She could just picture Fletcher and his two older brothers—and one younger sister—sprawled out around the room, watching football or something else “manly” like that. Fletcher, Ben, and Gil were very “manly” type creatures—especially the cranky cowboy in front of her.

But it felt like a home.

Not like she expected for him at all. “So what’s it like?”

“What?”

Dylan had moved at least twelve times—that she could remember. She’d started counting when she was four. Right before they’d had Dorie. She’d had just as many last names too. She’d been ten before she’d realizedthatpart of moving wasn’t normal at all. “To have lived in one place your entire life? I can’t imagine it. It sounds wonderful, really. Moving really hurts, you know?”

Dylan hated moving more than anything. A girl would be feeling safe and secure, and then it just zapped right out from under her with no warning. Sometimes, in the middle of the night.

No. Dylan was going to have her own place someday, and then she was never moving ever again. The only exception was if she and her future husband found a place to make a home together.

She wanted that more than anything—a home she didn’t have toleave.

“No, I guess I don’t. It’s okay. It’s home, but I really don’t spend as much time here as I used to. Too busy. It needs work. And I’m going to do it. When I get the time.” He shot her a look from those ridiculously blue, blue eyes. Tyler men had the most beautiful blue eyes—even this rather annoying one. He was rather prototypyTylerand everything. “That’s one reason you are here. I can’t do the things I want to get done if I’m worried about doing the damned laundry.”

“I can understand that. I can do the job, you know. But you good with me working my hours at the inn and diner too? It’s kind of required, I think. To be a real Talley and everything. Well, either you work them yourself, or you pay someone else to do it for you. And I can’t do that. I’ve been told I can barely take care of myself, you know.” And the words had hurt. Like she suspected her father had known they would. He wanted her where he wanted her. Dylan wasn’t playing by the script. He was doing everything he could to make her feel guilty for daring to have her own life. “And I’m not sure how much of a butthead my father is going to try to be once he finds out about this. Poophead Dad can be quite problematic—I have never been able to fully train the butthead out of him, though I have seriously tried. Seriously tried.”

“I am not the least bit concerned with your father. He can take a flying leap into the lake right now as far as I am concerned.”

“Yeah, you Tylers really don’t like Daddy at all, do you?” Can’t say she blamed him there. Considering what her father had done to Dusty.Dusty,Dylan’s sister, who had the whole life thing figured out. With Fletcher’s own brother. Ben and Dusty were already planning the wedding and cooing at each other all the time. Or disappearing into dark corners of the inn together.

Dylan suspected she knew why.

“So…where is my room going to be? Do you still sleep in your room from when you were a kid?”

“No. That I don’t.”

“Did you have to share with your brothers? I have almost always shared with Dorie. Which…she is four years younger than I am. She could get really annoying, and she always got scared at night. She’d sneak into my bed until she was twelve.” And Dylan still checked on her every night before she’d crash herself. Like she still checked in on Devaney and Dahlia. This was the first she’d ever been more than one hundred feet away from her younger sisters at night. She’d have to call or text them each tonight. She’d kind of sprung this on them.

She suspected Dahlia was panicking big time right now. Dylan had always been there when Dahlia or Dorie had needed her. Every single time. It really wasn’t fair that she’d left Devaney in the lurch, either. Devaney was going to have to handle them both all by herself.

Then again, Darcey, Dixie, and Daisy lived at the inn too. Her younger sisters would be just fine—they had their older sisters now. Dylan really wasn’t needed as much anymore. Everybody was figuring out their paths, their futures, that kind of thing.