"Well, shit."Rhett's deep voice had me jumpin' in my boots. "Not sure what ropes you need shown. Looks like you already know your way around."
I was busy mucking the outdoor paddocks when the foreman finally made his way back out. Apparently, Sassy had gone up to the house not long ago to get his ass in gear. Wasn't sure what her role on this ranch was, but it seemed like keeping the men in line was a full-time job.
"What Brody didn't show me yesterday"—I stuck the pitchfork tip-down in the dirt, propping myself up—"the cowboys have been kind enough to fill me in on this morning."
"Good, good. Been a little… dramatic 'round here lately, but I can assure you, usually I'm more on top of things. Gotta be with the way shit's been goin'."
"Trouble in paradise?" I batted my lashes and Rhett leveled me with a look. He might be more fun to fuck with than the boy scout, but in a poke-your-big-brother-in-the-cheek-til-he-shouts kinda way.
The long-suffering sigh he let out plus the hands-on-the-hips posture he assumed had me grinning.Ah, fuck.These cowboys were too easy.
I threw my hands up. "Sorry, sorry. I'm here to work, boss. Put me to it."
He palmed the top of his black hat and pulled it off just long enough to run a hand through the still-wet strands of his long dark hair.
Rhett and Brody were about as opposite in the looks department as two cowboys could get. Clearly, Sassy didn't have a type. I did. And usually, they looked just like Rhett. Except it wasn't Rhett's face, hands, ass that my brain had been conjuring up as I worked through morning chores.
Nope.
Dirty blonde hair long enough to grab and pull but not too long it looked sloppy. Square jaw stubbled with hair a shade or two darker. Vibrant green eyes. Big hands. Bubble butt.
Ugh.Brody was too damn pretty. Too damn distracting.
If I was lucky, he wouldn't be around much. Certainly being thebest damn farrier in the countymeant he'd be busy. But I had to know.
"Will, uh, Brody be around much?"
It was Rhett's turn to smirk. "Miss him already, honey?"
"Oh, do not honey me, cowboy." I rolled my eyes and returned to my work.
Rhett simply chuckled behind me and grabbed a pitchfork of his own, working alongside me as he spoke.
"We probably won't see him again until later in the week. Unless you go to The BP."
"He work at the gas station, too?"
"Nah, that's The Bar."
"The BP is the bar? Or the gas station?"
"The gas station is The Bar. The BP is the bar."
I stood and faced him. He mirrored my position.
"Say that again?"
His laugh was accompanied by a big grin this time.
"The Blue Pony—or, The BP—is the bar Brody lives above. I assume you're familiar?"
Ah, shit.My face felt a little hot but we were standing in the shade of the barn. "I am."
"Mhm. The one and only local gas station is called The Bar."
"You're shittin' me."
"I shit you not, Calvin." He tipped his Stetson toward me. "Welcome to Larkspur, Montana."
