"You grab some!" she shot back without missing a beat.
He stared at her.
She stared right back.
Then she wiggled her toes at him.
And damn if he didn't turn around and head back inside.
I bit my lip to keep from smiling.
Domestic.
Effortless.
He returned with a pair of worn sandals dangling from two fingers. Instead of handing them to her, he crouched and set them at her feet like it was the most normal thing in the world.
Like this was routine.
Like he'd always done it.
She hopped in the backseat with me and pulled out what I can only describe as a satchel full of girly shit. Like she practically lived outta the damn bag.
"Sit still," she said.
I startled a bit as she started applying makeup to my face. She fixed me with a glare, so I sat still. "Fine. But make the eyes dark and the lips red."
She grinned at me and got to work. I wasn't normally one for this girly bonding shit, but there was something about this little pixie that made me wanna keep 'er.
And when we belted out Shania Twain songs at the top of our lungs with the windows rolled down all the way into town, I thought I just might.
CHAPTERTWELVE
Ain't nothin'worse than a long week of shoein' horses when you've got the worst case of blue balls known to man.
The Birmingham ranch was my last stop this week and, because the old man was at an eye doctor appointment, I was in and out quick without a lot of chit-chat. Cowboys ain't big talkers, but Bart Birmingham is a whole different breed. Senile as fuck, too. Fortunately, his sons were all but runnin' the show these days, and they were a bunch of quiet, grumpy fucks.
Reminded me of my brother.
Speakin' of the grump, my phone had buzzed with a few texts when I was just wrappin' up. No better time to check it, other than the fact that my mama'd have my head for textin' and drivin'.
LUKE
Met the new chick on WA
Hot
I thumbed out a reply, gritting my teeth so damn hard my jaw'd be achin' later.
BRODY
You ain't her type
And she ain't "a chick"
You'd know that if you knew anything about women
Asshole musta been sittin' there—feet kicked up on the store counter—just waitin' for my response because he replied in an instant.
