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“Friday night work for you?”
“This makes me so happy,” Gina gushes, placing a bottle of white wine on the table near Paps. I long for a glass to help settle my nerves. “Old friends reunited. Is there anything better?”
The happy moment of nostalgic silence is interrupted by the harsh scream of the Stone’s newest resident. I startle backwards at the surprising volume, falling against a solid wall of delicious muscle for a second time. Those strong, rough hands shackle my elbows. A zing of electricity zips from the contact, headed straight for my core. Uh-oh.
“Omigod! That little goat is the cutest thing ever,” Everleigh says, slapping both hands over her agape mouth.
I follow her gaze to one of the windows framing the dining room table, spotting a curious Gertie peering inside.
“Thought you said you were already used to her screamin’.”
I suck in a breath, the rumble of Ryder’s voice against my ear stealing every coherent thought.
“Just so you know, I hold you responsible for this,” he adds, his breath raising the stray hairs along the back of my neck. His irritated tone shouldn’t come off so damn sexy. It should make me want to smack him, not spread my damn legs for him. He squeezes one elbow before dropping both his hands and marching toward the back door, leaving me dizzy with lustful confusion. I watch, as though in a trance, as he grabs his Stetson from a hook and drops it on top of his head.
It’s official. Nadia is no longer the only one crushing on hot cowboys.
“I’ll give you a hand,” Wyatt says to Ryder, leaving me to wonder if my brother witnessed that strangely intimate moment between us. I’d bet yes. His smirk suggests he has some sort of an opinion. “Don’t wait on us to eat. I don’t want Macy to get hangry.”
Me being the sophisticated woman of twenty-nine that I am, I stick out my tongue at him as he follows Ryder outside.
Gertie lets out a loud bleat and scampers away, leading the cowboys on a chase.
Everleigh yanks my arm, dragging me close to her as she quietly hisses, “What was that about?”
“Nothing.”
“Girls, why don’t we eat?” Gina offers.
Everleigh, refusing to loosen her grip on my arm as we find seats, says, “I call bullshit.”
Yeah, Everleigh. Me too.
CHAPTER 4
Ryder
“You’re still pissed about Gertie, aren’t you?” Wyatt asks before taking a long pull of his beer. The low hum of old country music my mother lovingly refers to as hillbilly twang plays from a dusty jukebox on the wall next to a dart board. Both have been there longer than I can guess. Since before I celebrated my twenty-first birthday at The Rusty Nail nearly two decades ago.
“Never heard a goddamn animal scream like they were headlining a horror movie.” It’s been three days of tripping and spilling hot coffee every time that cute little demon announces she’s escaped yet again. That doesn’t include all the tripping and coffee spilling caused by the irritatingly sexy woman who delivered said cute little demon to us. The same woman who has apparently decided to take up residence at the ranch as Paps’ right hand man. “This morning, I found Gertie on my porch roof.”
“No shit?” Wyatt chuckles.
“I swear she’s like a fucking bat. She can squeeze through the tiniest spaces.” I empty my beer and wave at Annabelle—who’s also been at The Rusty Nail since my twenty-first—to bring another round.
I can already see the emergency vet bills racking up when this mischievous goat decides to eat sheet metal. Paps has decades of experience as Emerald Creek’s lone veterinarian, but since his retirement, he’s not fully equipped to handle these animals’ well-being alone. The man is knocking on eighty years old for fuck’s sake.
“How did you end up with her, anyway?”
Wyatt’s grin fades into a straight line. “Domestic dispute.”
“Oh?”
“You remember the Hanks brothers?”
“They’re still kicking?”
“The older they get, the more trouble they stir up.” Wyatt shakes his head, taking another pull of his beer. “Worst thing that ever happened to them was their mother leaving them almost equal but separate shares of her ranch. We get called up there at least once a week. They’re always arguing about the property line and who’s trespassing.”
