There was a flicker in those whiskey eyes as they glanced at me. “I’m sure you will.”
My belly flipped. Fuck, this man was so fine. I seriously would not mind having to work every day in close proximity to him.
Maybe there was a look on my face, maybe the eye contact between us went on for longer than I realized, but either way, Tucker cleared his throat before continuing. “Be mindful of the common areas and pick up after yourself. No one likes a slob,” he murmuredbefore swinging the door open to the bedroom. It was a decent size with two full-size beds opposite each other. The left was clearly taken, so I shuffled my things toward the one on the right as Tucker looked on.
“You sure brought a lot of stuff for a six-month contract.”
I shrugged, flashing a wide grin. “Call it hopeful optimism. You told me if things go well, you’d be open to taking me on for longer. I plan to do such a good job you’ll be begging me to stay forever.”
I was naturally a glass-half-full kind of guy, and I’d been between gigs when this job popped up. It paid well, was a live-in position, and the best part was working with the horses every day. My previous employment had been a temporary hand at a quarter-horse breeding operation. They hadn’t been looking to take anyone on full-time, only to get them through the foaling season, so I’d been scouring for my next thing while sleeping in the back of my truck to save money.
Two lines appeared between my boss’s eyebrows at my comment. “We’ll see,” he muttered before nodding back toward the living space. As we stepped out, Dudd exited the room nearest the front door.
“Heading out for a bit.” He lifted his hand before taking his leave.
Tucker pointed out a door opposite the sitting space. “Bathroom is over there. It’s communal and shared between everyone in the house. You already met Duddson Buchanen. He’s the most senior of the hands, and he’ll be who you should go to if myself or Granger are not available.”
“Granger?”
“Granger Simmons is my right-hand man. He’ll be in charge of training you when I can’t be.”
That made me pause. Dudd had been here the longest, but wasn’t considered Tucker’s right hand? I raised my eyebrow, hoping to get some explanation but received none.
Instead, he continued. “The other men living here are Mackenzie or Mack, Elliot, Lane, and Dillon.” He pointed to the room next to mine. “Granger stays in this room with Dillon.” The middle door. “Elliot and Mack.” And finally to Dudd’s door. “Dudd and Lane.”
“Where are you? At the main house?” I asked. Some places had foremen accommodations, but a lot of them would have them stay with their men. Assuming all the other rooms were laid out like mine, all available beds were taken, so the next likely place was with his family.
Tucker rolled his lips into his mouth, clearly not pleased I’d asked. “No. I have my own cabin on the property.”
I was just about to comment on him having his own place when he abruptly turned toward the door. This guy clearly didn’t want to sit around, trading stories and getting to know each other, and I took the hint, keeping my mouth shut.
Six months to prove I was here for forever. I could do it.
CHAPTER THREE
TUCKER
The biting air outside the bunkhouse helped cool my burning skin. Was it too late to tell Jackson we’d be walking the property? I wasn’t sure I could handle being trapped in the confined space of my truck’s cab, smelling that sandalwood and bergamot scent. It turned my brain offline and made my body confused.
That had to be it. Had to be the reason his smile made the heart I thought had died and been buried three years ago beat just a little too fast, or when he said I’d be begging him to stay forever, I’d almost told him I’d beg for something else.
But it didn’t explain the way my breath hitched when I’d first seen him through the window of his truck.
Jackson was classically handsome. Bronze skin, sandy blond hair, a jawline that most men would kill for, and a smile that would win anyone’s momma over. His eyes were broody, but they came alive when he talked, showing off their green-brown coloring. There was this boyish charm to him, only made more so by the single dimple that appeared in his left cheek when those pretty lips spread into a grin.
I covered my mouth with my hand, rubbing over the coarse hairs of my beard as I stared at the overcast sky. What was I even thinking? He was eleven years my junior. That was practically a child. And let’s not lose the plot here—he was my fucking employee.
Foreman was my title for now, but it was only a matter of time before my father stepped down as the owner of Juniper Grove. He was a figurehead at best these days, and I’d already been delegating responsibilities to Granger in anticipation of the day Dad decided it was time to retire. A legacy stood on my shoulders, and I knew the weight of it all too well. Which was why I couldn’t be getting things confused.
I’d been the one to decide to hire Jackson. He wasmyemployee. My responsibility.
And maybe my biggest mistake.
“Are we going to tour the grounds?” Jackson’s soft cadence came from behind me, making me startle back to awareness.
“Jeez, man. I didn’t mean to sneak up on ya.” His eyebrows came together in concern. “You seemed lost in thought, and I was just going to let you ponder it out, but it’s colder than Satan’s tits out here.”
As he said this, he cupped his hands together and blew on them, and I noticed the soft flush to the tip of his nose. It wasn’t cute. It wasn’t.
