Probably wouldn't get much say in the matter, though, with the cowboys gossipin' like old biddies.
Before she could comment, a calf wandered close to the fence. Calvin reached out to scratch behind its ears without hesitation, completely natural.
"Sweet baby," she murmured, then glanced at me with that wicked grin. "So when those cowboys in the barn were talking about you 'rebounding quick,' that was just about… what? Your basketball skills?"
I rubbed the back of my neck, heat crawling up from my collar. "Somethin' like that."
She pushed off from the fence, and we started walkin' along the fence line. Our shoulders brushed with each step, and every casual contact sent sparks shootin' through me. The scent of her skin mixed with hay-scented air made it hard to think straight.
"Uh-huh," she said, clearly not buyin' my deflection for a second. "Look, as much as I had fun last night?—"
"You did?" My embarrassment—poof—vanished into thin air, and I grinned down at her.
"Was the screaming orgasm not enough of an indication?"
I barked out a laugh. "I mean, with the way you soaked my face, I knew you weren't fakin'. But then you bolted." I shrugged. "Figured you just weren't that into it."
Calvin let out a long sigh. We walked in silence for a few beats, nothing but the sound of our boots on packed earth and the distant lowing of cattle. I kept stealin' glances at her profile, the way she moved with that confident stride, how she seemed to take in every detail of the ranch with those sharp eyes.
"You're staring again," she said without lookin' at me.
"Can't help it."
That earned me a sideways glance, somethin' shifting in her expression. "Dangerous habit, boy scout."
"What were you gonna say? About last night?"
She hesitated a beat. "I just don't think it should happen again. I need this job. I'm low on cash right now, and as much as I love witnessing all the small-town drama, I don't need to be part of it. That kind of attention is not my jam."
"Not mine either," I muttered. "But got no one to blame but myself."
She raised a brow at me.
"Nothin'." I waved her off. "Forget it. I hear you. We'll keep things… professional. Friendly. Yeah?"
"Yeah, I think I'd like to be your friend, Brody Lancaster."
"I'd like that, too, Calvin…"
"Jennings."
Calvin Jennings.
How did I know that name?
"And that's the bunkhouse."I gestured toward the small outbuilding. It wasn't much more than a few sets of bunk beds, a simple kitchen, and a bathroom with a couple stalls and sinks. Plenty for the small staff of cowboys and hands on the ranch.
"Ah, great. I'll grab my bag and settle in." Calvin made for her truck with me hot on her heels.
"Uh, pardon?"
"Hmm?" She glanced over her shoulder but didn't stop walkin'.
"You ain't stayin' in the bunkhouse."
"Well, see, I'd really prefer not to sleep in my truck another night. Back's killin' me."
"Coulda slept in my bed last night, had you not run scared." The words tumbled out before I could stop them, that cocky grin I wore when I was trying to cover up feelin' like shit makin' an appearance.
