Page 100 of Filthy Fae

With a shriek, I wrenched the wheel around. The side-by-side farted in protest, lurching madly as I fought to straighten the wheel. It plowed through the snow like a champ, careening over lumps and bumps buried under a foot of frozen white fluff. If I knew anything about ranch life, those were probably old cow patties.

The cart leapt up a slight bulge under the snow and straight through the barbed wire fence where I’d once been caught.

Craptastic. I was in a runaway golf-cart, and the only thing I could do was wrestle the wheel around and take my foot off the gas. After a few seconds, it slid and sputtered to an abrupt halt, throwing me forward against the steering wheel. For a minute, I sat there trying to catch my breath. And then I saw the cows.

They were headed in my direction, about a dozen of them, probably coming to gloat at my incompetence. Despite what my stepbrothers said, I didn’t believe for a minute they were harmless. Just like Van Gogh, they were different beasts when the guys weren’t around. It was like they could sense my fear. Maybe they were jealous that the guys didn’t pay as much attention to them as they once had, or maybe the smell of the city was baked into me and they didn’t like outsiders. Either way, they were determined to drive me all the way back to Manhattan.

Too bad for them I wasn’t a pure Manhattanite anymore. I could drive a side-by-side like nobody’s business, current predicament notwithstanding.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t seem to get the stupid thing into reverse. I yanked on the shifter, but it wouldn’t move. The wheels just spun in the snow. Heart hammering, I leapt out and ran around to the front to push. By then, the cows had trotted over. They started to make a circle around me, cutting off my escape. And then they started mooing at me.

I didn’t want to turn my back on them and let them sneak up on me. Not that I could do much about it even facing them. But at least I’d see death coming right at me.

I turned around, pressed my butt to the front bumper of the side-by-side, and started pushing. One of the cows started creeping through the snow toward me, so I threw up my hands and screamed. That stopped her in her tracks, and I remembered that they weren’t so fond of my screaming. Yes, I had learned that the hard way from another near-death cow experience. And now it was coming in handy.

So I opened my mouth and screamed like seven demon cows were surrounding me, mooing their satanic cow chant. Wait…seven seemed like an awfully low number. I chanced a moment to turn, and what I saw made my blood freeze colder than a cow patty in a Wyoming winter. They were making a break for the hole I’d made in the fence.

I turned back and started shoving harder on the side-by-side. No way could I chase down a bunch of cows. I didn’t have a lasso or even a horse to herd them. Though I knew there was no way it could happen, I had to hope my screaming had carried across the entire ranch. Because otherwise, I was on my own.

I jumped back in the cart and tried to back up again. The cart still didn’t move, but the cows closed in. I jumped out, waving my arms, and they danced back a little. With renewed effort, I started shoving my ass against the front of the cart.

A minute later, my voice was about giving out, and I smelled exhaust. My heart swelled with relief. I turned, and there, just inches from me, stood Cody.

I jumped back with another shriek of surprise. He’d stalked in quiet as a cow. I’d expected one of my stepbrothers—well, another one besides him.

“You okay?” Cody asked with a frown. “I saw some cows in the road, and when I stopped, I heard you screaming.”

I leaned against the side-by-side again and tried to pretend I was just casually sitting there, resting like I might sit on the bumper of a car. “Oh, yeah,” I said. “I’m fine. Just a little stuck.”

“Let me help,” Cody said, hopping in the side-by-side. With a lurch, it shot backwards. I fell flat on my ass.

Cody hopped out and held out a hand to me, pulling me to my feet. I stumbled against him, my squishy parka forming a pillowy barrier between us. For a second, I didn’t move. I wasn’t even sure why. His warm breath kissed my cheeks as he looked down at me, but I fixed my eyes on his chest, unable to look at him. When I did, Cody’s expression was bland, but I saw something in his eyes that made me quiver in ways that should’ve been reserved for my men alone.

With an abruptness that almost sent me sprawling, Cody stepped away from me. Shit. Had he read that look on my face as easily as I’d read his? Because it wasn’t true. I wanted to tell him it wasn’t, that I didn’t like him. I had my hands full—and then some—with his brothers. It was just my stupid, traitorous, horny body that responded to being so close to a man. After all, I had only been that close to three men for the past year, and every one of them made my body alive in ways I couldn’t comprehend. Of course it thought, in its brainless way, that being this close to a man meant he could drive me absolutely wild with desire and pleasure.

“We’d better get the cows back in,” Cody said, swinging back into the vehicle like he’d been doing it all his life. Like nothing had just happened. It hadn’t, I reminded myself. He’d just pulled me up from the ground. I was grateful that he didn’t laugh at my predicament or blame me for letting the cows get out, the way a certain Westling brother would have. So of course, I had to explain exactly how much of a dumbass I was after I got in beside him. Awkward silence was so not my thing.

“I’m really sorry for your trouble,” I said. “I was just out here, and see, I haven’t driven the side-by-side much, and I kinda lost control, and then—.”

“No trouble,” Cody interrupted, whipping the side-by-side around and heading for the hole in the fence.

I gaped at him. He’d actually interrupted me before I could get going on one of my verbal tirades. No one ever interrupted me out here. They’d just let me ramble on and on while they looked more and more amused until I ran out of steam. Back home, everyone interrupted my word vomit. New Yorkers didn’t have time to listen to nonsense.

“Okay, then,” I said, feeling strangely exposed, like he’d stripped me bare. Without my words to fill the awkward silence, I had nothing.

The cart dipped as we reached the road again, and I swallowed a squeal when my stomach dropped out. Cody stopped the cart right in front of his Jeep, which was parked even with the hole in the fence. When he turned and saw the cows plodding our way, he jumped up into the gap in the fence and hopped around waving his arms like a crazy person and cawing at them until they backed off.

“Come on,” Cody said, dropping down onto the road. “Let’s get the rest in, and I’ll patch up the fence.”

He started off, and I followed with a good amount of trepidation. “You know, I wouldn’t have let them get out on purpose,” I said.

“Course not.”

“It’s just that they had me trapped. I was afraid they’d attack if I turned my back.”

“Cows don’t attack people,” Cody said, hurrying along the road to where five cows were standing in the snow next to the fence, probably plotting their strategy.

I didn’t believe Cody for a second. They’d tried to attack me plenty. “Well, they sure like to run at me,” I said.