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“Here we go,” Jeremiah muttered under his breath, looking back down at his open Statistics textbook. He ran a finger down the page like he was looking for where he’d left off.
“And you’re so much better coming in from an afternoon mucking out stalls?” Liam asked. “Where do you think the compost comes from, boy-o?”
“Man, we’re trying to eat a meal here,” Nicholas objected.
“That we are, that we are,” Liam said. “Compliments to the chef, I meant no disrespect.” Liam doffed an invisible hat at Nicholas, then angled his body toward Isobel.
“So how was your first day working for our illustrious veterinarian? And how do you come out of it smelling lemon fresh? I thought being a vet meant spending all day armpit deep up a cow’s arse?”
Nicholas’ silverware banged on the table as he slammed them down but Isobel just shook her head with a wry smile on her face. No one could accuse this group of not having personality.
She held up her hands. “No up close and personal encounters with bovines today. But there’s always tomorrow to look forward to.”
She shared a little about what she’d been up to instead, helping with the vaccines and updating the clinic computer records. Everyone seemed interested in what she was saying and as long as she was talking, she didn’t have to worry about what was on her plate, so she told them a little about her road trip too when Reece asked about it. Honestly, she was surprised at how at ease she felt with all of them.
“Feck, you can’t take a night off studying even when you have this vision of female perfection before you?” Liam suddenly asked, reaching across Isobel’s plate to grab Jeremiah’s textbook.
“Hey,” Jeremiah said, reaching for the book. “I have a test next Monday. I need to study.”
Liam rolled his eyes. “That’s what Sunday night is for. It’s Friday, for Jesus’ sake. Take a load off.”
Jeremiah got out of his seat and lurched for the textbook but Liam jerked it out of his grasp right before he could close his fingers around it.
“Christ, can you not take one day off from being an entitled son of a bitch?” Mack asked from across the table. “We don’t all have a daddy who can bail us out if we bomb our classes.”
Liam ignored Mack. He grinned magnanimously at Jeremiah. “But lucky you, you have me and I’m happy to throw away money on your education any time. Just say the word.”
Jeremiah glared at Liam, his jaw locking. Yikes, Isobel could tell that was the wrong thing to say.
“We don’t take charity.” Jeremiah yanked his book back from Liam.
“Fucking rich people,” Mack muttered under his breath, mopping up some gravy on his plate with his biscuit and shoving the rest of it in his mouth.
Liam narrowed his eyes at Mack. “You’ve got a little something.” Liam motioned to his eyebrow. “Just there.”
When Mack lifted his hand to his own eyebrow, Liam launched the rest of the biscuit he was eating straight at Mack’s forehead, smacking him right between the eyes.
Mack shot to his feet, pushing his chair back. “You better watch it, pretty boy. I’d hate to have to rearrange your face.”
“Whoa, whoa,” Reece said, getting up and putting a hand on Mack’s chest. “He was just joking around. He didn’t mean anything by it.”
Mack smacked Reece’s hand away from his chest but Reece just lifted it back, though without touching Mack’s chest this time.
Mack glared at Liam—who was smirking back like he couldn’t be more amused by Mack’s display.
“Hey guys, come on,” Reece looked back and forth between Liam and Mack. “Is this any way to welcome a newcomer to the ranch? Poor Isobel is going to think we’re a bunch of barbarians here. Look, you’re putting her off her dinner.” He pointed down at her plate, where she’d barely touched her food.
Damn it, why did he have to be so observant? She shoved a bite of squash and zucchini in her mouth. She even managed not to cringe when she realized the vegetables weren’t steamed, but had been cooked in what tasted like butter.
Mack left his own mostly empty plate behind and stormed off in the direction of the stairs.
“What crawled up his arse?” Liam asked.
Jeremiah leaned behind Isobel to smack Liam on the back of the head.
Reece sat back down at the table, looking at Isobel apologetically. “I’m sorry about all that. I swear we’re not all that bad. We usually get along great.”
“Reece here is what we call an optimist,” Liam said, shaking his head and stabbing his fork in the direction Mack went. “I’ll get along with that arsehole the day hell freezes over.”
