Page 10 of Pretty Little Scars

We get to work, assembling a more comfortable spot for Tom and her family. I have some towels in the shower room, and before long, we have all the cats resettled, looking more comfortable than before.

We’re squatting side by side, watching Tom clean her babies, making biscuits in the towel, and I look over to the woman beside me.

I want to reach out and tuck her hair behind her ear. She’s so fucking beautiful, even in simple blue jeans and a T-shirt under a black zip-up hoodie. Nothing special or fancy, but I’ve never seen anything more gorgeous in my life.

Before I can reach out, Darby stands and moves away from me, sure not to touch me as she walks out of the stall.

She did the same thing yesterday. She mentioned that she’s not a toucher when I offered my hand out to shake, but I can feel in my gut that this goes beyond that. Although she looks calm, her movements are stiff, as if she’s nervous, and I donotwant this woman to be nervous around me. We have to work together for a whole fucking year. I need to get to the bottom of this.

“Can I ask you a question?”

She glances over and lifts an eyebrow. “Of course.”

“Have I offended you, Duchess?”

She blinks rapidly and tucks that shiny hair behind her ear herself. “Of course not. I haven’t even been here for twenty-four hours.”

I nod slowly and lean my shoulder on the stall door where she’s checking on one of the horses.

“Did I piss you off before you quit the diner?”

“Not at all.”

I rub my thumb over my bottom lip and watch as she glides her hand over the haunches of the horse.

“Then why are you so skittish around me?”

“I’m not.”

I chuckle, but there’s no humor in it. “You’re more skittish than most of the wild animals on this property.”

She blows out a breath and turns to face me, her hands on her perfect, curvy hips.

“I’m not a friendly person, Tucker,” she finally admits. “I mostly keep to myself. I’m not super talkative, and I don’t make friends easily. I’m awkward at best.”

I stare at her, taking in her sincere, sweet face, and I realize that she actually believes that nonsense. Who put that shit in her head?

“Yeah, I don’t believe that. You were always friendly before.”

Her brows pull together and she licks her lips. “You were a stranger at my work. Someone safe to flirt with and then go on with my day. Now, you’re essentially my boss, I haven’t seen you in five years, and yeah, you’re still a stranger.”

I nod. “Okay. I have two sisters. I get it.”

If anyone made Ava or Harper uncomfortable, I’d break their fucking face.

“I won’t touch you unless you give consent,” I inform her. “Not ever. I’m not an asshole, Duchess.”

“I didn’t think that you were,” she replies softly and turns those big blue eyes up to me. “It’s nothing personal. I actuallylikeyou, and for reasons I don’t understand, I trust you. But I will always skirt around you because?—”

“You don’t like to be touched.” I nod, and internally, I want to burn whatever did this to her to the ground. “I’m being professional, remember?”

Her face softens, and her bee-stung lips quirk up in a half smile that has my dick twitching.

“Professional,” she confirms. “I have a meeting with Dr. Fisher at noon in town.”

“Then we’d better get started on our day. I assume you know how to ride a horse?”

Darby bites her lip and winces. “I’m not great. I grew up on a ranch, but my father didn’t believe that women should do ranch work, so he never taught us.”