Really, Maisie, you had to drop the OCD bomb?
I twiddle my thumbs. “And I don’t mind riding cowboys’ asses either. I bet they would listen to me.”
Gray does that thing where he chokes on air again. His fist pounds into his chest. It’s then I realize the very inappropriate words that left my mouth.
I likeriding cowboys' asses. Fuck’s sake, Maisie.
Is it too late to pack my bags and head home?Seems I’m a bit out of practice with this wholeboss ass bitch single girllife.
I’m so lost in my head, I don’t notice the tall shadow approaching me or the shovel being thrown back at me. “Start with the shit for today, and maybe you’ll graduate to organization and cowboy asses tomorrow. Only if you can prove to me you can be a good girl.”
My face drains of color. I suck my lip between my teeth. Two little words was all it took to get my heart racing. I don’t think he realizes what he’s even said. My stomach flutters. Apparently, I’ve just unlocked a praise kink. Who knew? I’m starting to wonder how many other things Grayson could teach me…about the ranch, of course.
The words don’t even sound convincing in my head.
I storm back into the stall so Grayson won’t notice my flushed face. “Yeah, I can do that,” I mumble, my back turned to him.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not afraid of hard work. I just don’t like being told what to do, and it feels like Grayson is annoyed he’s onbabysittingduty, trying his best to get rid of me.
I get to work, scooping up the first pile, only slightly gagging when I bring it to the wheelbarrow. It thunks into the bin, wafting up dust. It hits my nose, and I can’t help but shift between choking and gagging from the awful smell.
A deep chuckle draws my eyes, watery and all. “You gonna survive, honey? At this rate, you’ll be here till sundown.” Grayson, the bastard, apparently decided to stick around and watch the shit show commence. He leans against the stall door, a shit-eating grin on his face. Worst of all, he has the audacity to find this amusing.
“I’m so glad one of us is finding humor in this,” I choke out between another gag. “God forbid you put your ass to work too. I’m having words with whoever cuts your checks. It seems to me they are severely overpaying you.”
“As foreman of this ranch, it’s my duty to watch over my crew and supervise where needed. Seems to me this isexactlythe place I should be right now. If any of my crew were to walk in right now, they would think someone was dying in here.”
I heave again, covering my nose with the back of my arm. I narrow my eyes at him and point in the direction of the wheelbarrow. “Well, maybe if you cleaned that thing once in a while, I wouldn’t be struggling to breathe right now. Sounds like a safety hazard, if you ask me. I should call the health board.”
His eyes swirl with something I can’t quite place. “We clean those wheelbarrows daily. This is a ranch. There’s gonna bedustanddirtandshiteverywhere you turn. Get used to it.”
“And apparently roosters,” I grouch under my breath, blowing the hair from my face.
His eyebrows dip, but he lets it slide. “Think you can man the fort in here while I get some work done in the tack room?”
I give him a mocking salute. “Aye, captain. Your wish is my command.”
Grayson storms out of the room like a tornado through a dirt field, my middle finger following him out behind his back.Good riddance. Just as his flannel disappears, something red catches my attention, and an idea takes root.
Two hours later, I wipe my forehead off and chuck the fork into the full barrel. Thank God, because one more second of smelling horse shit, and I would have fainted.
“Well, I’ll be damned. You actually did it.” I spin on my heels, finding ashockedbut also maybeimpressedGrayson leaning against the door. As soon as our eyes connect, the loudest laugh I’ve ever heard fans through his lips. “What the fuck did I walk in on?” he mumbles to himself.
“What?” I reply, but it comes out mumbled through the cloth.
He circles his pointer finger at my face, trying his best to hold back another chuckle. “Are you off to battle or something? Where did you even find that? You know what, don’t answer that. It’s probably better I don’t know.” He bites his lip, his eyes light and clear for once.
I pull the red bandana down from over my nose. “You’re just mad you didn’t think of it first.”
He raises his hands in surrender. “You got me. Genius idea, really,” he mocks with a playful smile. He shuffles closer, and I hold my breath when his thumb traces my forehead, wiping away some dirt, his eyes glazed with wonder. We hold each other's gaze. I don’t move a single muscle, scared to break whatever trance he has on me. It’s electric. I can see it plain as day in his eyes: he feels it too. I take a step closer, and he blinks the trance away, his eyes flaring. He shuffles away like I’ve scorched him and wipes the dirt on his pants.
My eye snags on his knuckles again. I can clearly see thescabs and…are those bruises? I let my eyes linger. I want to know the story behind them. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about Grayson, it’s he’s guarded. Grayson notices my prolonged stare and quickly slips his hands in his pockets. I try not to let it bother me, but the thought of him hurting still lingers in the back of my mind longer than I care to admit.
“Wanna help me feed the girls?” he says with a half-smile. I follow him out, and we make quick work gathering and separating the square hay bales, dispersing them between the stalls. The horses stomp like crazy as we work in silence as a team. It’s comfortable silence, and I find myself enjoying the work, letting my brain shut off for once.
After we finished feeding the horses, Grayson let me help him finish organizing the tack room, even letting me suggest a few new ways to arrange stuff to make more space. He took the suggestions with ease, putting them into effect right away. The feeling of his approval is something I could get used to.
Just as I’m hanging up the last rope, my phone buzzes.
