Page 1 of Ready, Willing and Abel

chapter

one

Esme

“You can’t quit,” I say to my sister. “Seriously, Mia, you cannot quit. I need you to figure out a way to work with Mr. Ego until he signs off on my deal.”

Okay, I know how it sounds. Like I’m trying to convince my sister to stay in an abusive relationship for my benefit. It’s not that. Mr. Ego isn’t her boyfriend. He’s her boss. In my defense, he pays her really well. He’s not abusive. He’s just a Grumpy Gus.

From the other end of the line, she makes a sound that’s somewhere between a growl and a curse. “He is such a jerk.”

“Just give it two more weeks. A month at most. As soon as he’s signed the paperwork to produce Cactus Girl- branded Prickly Pear Shandy Ale, you can quit. That way, he’ll be buying the farm’s juice, I’ll be able to expand my line of jams, and I won’t have to sell the farm. Then you can quit and join the circus.”

Despite her earlier grumbling, my sister Mia chuckles. “Pretty sure they don’t have circuses anymore because of the unethical treatment of animals,” she says. “Except for maybe those creepy small ones that travel around with their own tents.”

“Whatever. And obviously I don’t want you to actually join the circus. Or a cult or anything else crazy. I just want you to get your boss to ink this deal.” I blow out a breath. “I’m sorry. I know it’s a lot of pressure on you.”

“He’s such an ass.”

“And has such a fine ass,” I add.

“Completely irrelevant,” she says.

“Sure. Have you tried my suggestion?”

“Which one? Blowing him under his desk? No! Because he’s a tyrant.”

“A tyrant clearly in need of a good orgasm. It would blow off some steam.” I snort laugh. “Get it? Blow off? Didn’t even mean to make that pun.”

“Esme, focus!”

“I’m sorry. You know how I love a good accidental pun.”

“Where even are you? You sound like you’re in a wind tunnel.”

“I’m in a wind tunnel.” When I’m pretty sure I can hear my sister roll her eyes, I giggle. “Only kidding. I’m walking the property. The goats escaped again, and I’ve to get them back in the yard before they eat all the fruit I still need to harvest.”

“Those goats are a menace,” Mia says.

“You love them,” I tease.

She does love the goats, as well as everything else on this farm that used to belong to our grandmother. It’s the perfect little slice of Texas hill country heaven.

“How’s the harvest look so far?”

“Pretty good,” I admit. “I’m not harvesting today. Just following the goats and trying to steer them away from my fruit and onto the ivy.”

Something catches my eye off to my right, and I turn, expecting to just see a wayward goat. Instead, I see a man. My heart swoops low in my belly.

“Uh, someone’s here,” I say into the phone.

“One of the neighbors?” Mia asks.

“Nope. I’ll call you back.” I disconnect our call and turn in the direction of the stranger.

He appears to be talking to the goats.

“You lost?” I holler. I’m not close enough to see his face, but I can see when he turns at the sound of my voice.