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The truth was, I understood nothing about the man other than his body and mine were hyper-compatible. Like a barn burning, volcano erupting, nuclear meltdown of hot sweaty chemistry. I had no clue how to get along with him on a daily basis when we were both fully dressed.
“Seeing as it’s the first time I’ve gotten invited to the secret girl’s club in the bathroom, I hate to say this… But unless we’re going to swap lipstick colors or something, we need to wrap this up.” Wilson made a show of checking the time on his big gold watch. I remember him buying it when he made his first million. It was ugly then and still ugly now.
Cameron and I gave my brother synchronized eye rolls.
“We have the entire town arriving for a Fourth of July party any minute.”
Cameron smacked Wilson’s ass as she pushed him out the door. His full-throated laugh hit me hard. I couldn’t remember hearing that rich deep throated laugh since we were both in our twenties. Nothing held back. No façade and no fear of judgment.
I loved that he’d found Cameron and his long-lost joy here in Elmer. And at the same time, a pinch of jealousy niggled my ribs. I was so far from that kind of life. He had everything. While I was still searching for myself.
Chapter 3
Atley
The ATV trailer wasloaded down with an incredible seventeen suitcases, many with bright orange tags on them declaring them heavy. Yeah, no shit. I rubbed my lower back and tested the tie down to make sure nothing would fall off.
The guest house was halfway between my place and the main house. The maintenance of the road connecting all three had been ignored for too long. The spring rains this year had worn the old caliche trail down to nothing but a rutted track of exposed rocks unsuitable for a car or minivan.
I could crank up the ATV, drive to the guest house, unload all Rae’s stuff, and disappear. Put off talking to her alone until at least tomorrow after I got some sleep and was in a better mood to deal with human interaction. After my sleepless night in herbed and a day spent traveling and catching up on ranch work, I was beat.
My leg was in midair about to settle astride the ATV when I remembered Georgie. I scanned the front yard and found him under a sage bush in the shade. I walked over and kneeled, trying to coax him out.
Not happening. Georgie was puking like he was about to regurgitate his own spleen. Poor little guy.
I sat in the shade on the wide front steps a few feet from the dog as he upchucked again. On my phone I googled dogs and beer. The results weren’t good. At least he was throwing it up, not keeping it down where it’d cause more problems.
“George, this is not a great way to start your trip to Texas.”
The dog finished barfing and flopped down in the dirt at my feet. I leaned over and checked his respirations. They were good, and while he looked unhappy, he didn’t seem lethargic or in real distress. I could blame the heat and his long hair as easily as the beer he’d lapped up.
“Your mom’s not going to be happy,” I told him in a falsetto scolding tone, and he cocked his head at me.
He got up and prodded my leg with a dusty white paw until I picked him up and put him in my lap. He turned around and cuddled in, and like that, I knew I’d be sitting on the front step sweating and holding Georgie until Rae found me. No way I’d leave the dog alone when it might be sick.
I was the kind of person who would step over a bleeding man to help a stray dog, lame horse, or distressed cow any day of the week and twice on Sunday.
“We’ve come a long way from a four-star hotel suite last night.”
I plucked dried leaves and small twigs from Georgie’s coat and smoothed his silky hair. Underneath his coat, he was a tiny, fragile creature. I could almost hold him in one palm. Ranchliving even short term would be a big change for this pampered pooch.
“He likes you.” Rae slipped quietly out the front of the house, her skirts swishing around her knees as she closed the large roughhewn plank door.
My heart sped up, prodded by a zing of lust. I planned on ignoring her and the feeling. She planted a hand on one hip, looking down at me and her dog. Georgie lifted his head and happily wagged his tail but stayed in my lap.
“He’s not feeling great. Can’t hold his booze.” I removed my sunglasses and hooked them in my shirtfront so I could see her better in the shade.
She sat next to me and fiddled with the folds of her skirt, arranging it just so. I stiffened when she reached out and laid a hand over the dog as he lay in my lap.
“I should take him to a vet.” The worry in her voice hit me hard, always did when it was an animal.
To stop from reaching out to comfort her, I gripped the edge of the front steps, unsure if she’d welcome my touch.
“No. It’s the Fourth of July; you’d have to go to the emergency vet clinic two towns over. I think he threw up most of it. If anything changes, Dr. Stanley will be at the BBQ.”
“You’re sure.”
“Yes, ma’am. Stanley is a good vet.”
