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“Mackenzie Bishop,” Dad snaps. “Language. We have guests around, and the last thing I want is them hearing my teacher daughter speak that way.”
My head pounds, and all I can do is nod. “You look like you’re up to something.”
“We’re not,” Grayson interjects. “Kenzie just agreed to act as my shadow for the day, so we’re gonna get to work once I finish eating.” He purposely uses his other hand to shove food in his mouth.
“You did?” He tilts his head at me, confused.
I shrug. Though I want to snitch on Grayson and sick my dad on him, I decide not to. If he wants to play this game, even though I feel sick as hell, then I’ll make sure to get him back a hundredfold. This is motherfucking war.
Dad eventually walks away, and I slam our wrists back on top of the table. “I’m not in the mood for your shit today, so unlock them right now. I know you didn’t lose the key.”
He chuckles, which only infuriates me even more. “No can do, sweetheart.”
Leaning in, he comes close to my ear and whispers, “I’ll make a deal with you. Tell me why you hate me so damn much, and I’ll remove them as quickly as I put them on.”
“Go to hell,” I whisper-hiss.
“Alright. Well, you made your choice.” Grayson stands, yanking me up with him. He clears our plates before leading me outside to his truck.
“Get in,” he tells me, opening the driver’s side door.
“How?”
“You’re smarter than me, remember? Figure it out.”
“You’re so fuckin’ annoying.” I hop in and scoot over to the passenger seat.
“I could say the same about you.” He cranks the truck and takes off toward the barns.
I scoff. “No, I don’t go out of my way to poke at you. I avoid you like an STD, but you get under my skin on purpose.”
“Remember when you left me naked and tied up with no phone to call for help? This is your payback, Kenzie. You get to work with me all day long. Today, I volunteered to clean out the stalls. ”
“Asshole,” I mumble, staring out the window and wanting to throw up.
We pull up to a cattle barn, and when we walk in, I notice it’s a damn disaster. There’s shit everywhere. Grayson leads me to the supply room and grabs a shovel for himself, then hands me one.
“Oh hell no. I am not helping you do your job.”
“Well then, I guess this is gonna take twice as long to finish. You must really want to hang out with me longer.”
I rip the shovel from his grip. “You’re an idiot. There’s no way we’re gonna be able to work at the same time. Use your brain.”
He chuckles. “Sure we can. We just have to sync up our movements. You act like it’s impossible or something.”
Grayson takes a step toward me and tucks loose strands of hair behind my ear. Though I don’t intend to, I meet his brown eyes. My heart pounds, and though I want to deny the electricity that flows between us, it’s undeniable. “Sorry you feel like hell.”
“Then. Let. Me. Go.”
“Tell me why you hate me, and I will.”
I immediately close up and build a wall around myself that’s so high, he couldn’t scale it if he had a thirty-foot ladder. I’m not opening that vault right now. “It’s because you don’t stop antagonizing me and purposely piss me off.”
“I don’t believe you. There’s gotta be more to it than that.”
“That’s my answer, take it or leave it,” I tell him.
“Nope, not good enough,” he declares.
I give up, not wanting to have this conversation. I want to get this torture over with, so I jerk away and lead us to the stalls.
Shoveling shit together is difficult at first, but then we somehow manage to do it. Honestly, I can’t remember the last time I did demanding and physical chores like this, and if I weren’t hungover, I wouldn’t be having such a terrible time. Grayson even carried the wheelbarrow closer as I walked beside him. When it’s full, he wheels it outside.
“You’re pretty good at this,” he offers with a smirk after we’ve cleaned half the barn.
“I grew up doing this, Grayson. Just because I don’t work on the ranch now doesn’t mean I don’t know how to do shit.”
“Pretty cocky for someone attached to me. Not gonna lie, I kinda like it, though.” He shoots me a wink, and I respond with an eye roll.
As I continue shoveling, I realize I have to pee. Not wanting to complain to Grayson, I try to hold it in the best I can.
“Fuck,” I mumble after we drop another load of manure in the back. Thirty minutes have passed, and I know I’m in a losing battle with my bladder.
Grayson turns to me. “What’s up?”
