“No, Lydia, my desire topenetratesomeone doesn’t factor into my decision to form a friendship with them,” he says flatly before quickly switching back into his playful tone. “But I willsay, if I played for the other team, I’d absolutely try to seduce Landon.”
“Eww. That’s mybrother,you sicko!”
Emmett’s chuckle eases all the tension. “What can I say? He’s a handsome fella. Plus, I’ve seen what he’s packing, so—”
“Nope. That’s enough. I’ve officially reached my limit of you today. Go away. Be annoying somewhere else.” Lydia waves a dish towel to shoo him.
After tending to a few customers, because she actually has a job she’s supposed to be doing, she crouches down again. “Sooo, I have a message for you from a gentleman caller.”
“Oh, I heard, and that’s thefurthestthing from the truth.” I roll my eyes. “But Emmett gave me an idea.”
“Never a good sign.” She sighs, sitting down and crossing her legs on the dirty bar mat in front of me. “What’s the idea?”
“I think I found a loophole. A way around Heath’s rule while also not just hooking up with some random guy.”
Lydia shakes her head, frowning. “I don’t like where this is going. Don’t say it.”
I sink my teeth into my bottom lip, holding back a grin “Technically, I’m not an employee, right? But I’m also not a guest. So, it wouldn’t be breaking the rule if Ihypothetically…chose Landon—”
“Oh my God,NO!You’re actually insane if you’re seriously considering fucking my brother! No. Nope. Not happening.”
“It was just an idea,” I mumble.
“A terrible idea that should never have been shared. Landon is not what you need, honey. I promise you.”
I sigh and rest my head against the cabinet. “Okay, yeah. Maybe you’re right.”
“Oooh, say it again. I liked it.”
“Fine. You win.” I roll my eyes. “Looks like your wingwoman services are still needed tomorrow evening.”
“I am at your service.” She winks and gives a mock salute.
“Whatinthehellare you doing, girl?”
A deep, gruff voice cracks through the steady rhythm I’d forced myself into. The bale in my arms slips, thudding hard against the packed dirt. My heart lurches, breath catching as I spin around to find Heath in front of the breezeway.
He’s standing there, brows raised, hands braced on his hips like he’s trying to physically hold down the disbelief radiating off him.
“What?” I manage, yanking out one earbud, my pulse pounding.
Iris darts between us in a dark blur, chasing poor Ozzy in the opposite direction.
“I asked just what in the hell you’re doing,” Heath repeats, gesturing between me and the rows of bales I’ve been dragging across the yard with my bare hands.
“Uh…moving the hay bales?”
He exhales through his nose, the corner of his mouth lifting. “I can see that. Is there a particular reason you’re not putting them up in the hayloft? Or do you just like doing extra work?”
My stomach drops. “What do you mean?”
“That hay’s already baled and dried. It goes in the loft,insidethe barn—where it belongs.”
I look at the bale by my boots. At the stacked mountain I’ve been dragging across the yard all day, blister by blister. I’m sweat-soaked, sunburnt, and exhausted.
The realization clicks into place slowly, one agonizing piece at a time.
That fucking asshole.
