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The day was long, tiring, and everything he loved about working on the ranch. He didn’t, however, like the kick he took to his shin from one of the horses he was working with at the end of the day. Nash often broke and trained the horses for ranch work, and usually ended the day being bitten or kicked.
“Need some ice for that?” Ford asked, throwing him a soda.
Nash caught it. “No. I’m going home.”
“Is that your ex?” Ford and Nash looked at the car pulling up, or more importantly the woman in it. Kirsty May Taylor. He hadn’t seen her for two years.
“What the hell is she doing here?” he whispered to Ford.
“Not sure, but by the look on her face, I’d say it’s to see you.”
“I don’t want to see her.”
“You guys dated for ages. I was never sure why that ended. Want to tell me now?”
“No, I want you to get rid of her.”
“How do you want me to do that?” Ford said as the beautiful blond got out of her car in a short miniskirt and tight top that was open to show him the lace edge of her bra and a pair of really nice breasts he’d once licked every inch of. Funny how looking at them now left him cold.
Once, he’d thought himself in love with that woman. Poking around in his chest, he realized that no longer stood.
“I don’t care, just do it.”
“Hi, Nash. Hi, Ford. I wonder if I can talk to you in private for a minute, Nash.”
He’d once liked the soft purr of her voice. He’d thought she was sexy as hell. A vision of Luna McKinley slipped into his head. Nash liked her English accent way better. Not that he’d tell her that.
“I don’t have time to talk now. I’m having a meeting with my brother.”
Ford pulled out his phone and looked at it.
“So, we’ll move the stock from the south pasture tomorrow?” Ford said.
“What?”
“I’m improvising,” Ford hissed.
“It won’t take long,” Kirsty said. She reached out and touched Nash’s arm. “Please.”
Nash had loved her brown eyes. They were framed with thick lashes, and now he wondered if they were fake too like Luna’s. Most things about this woman had been fake.
“I have nothing to say to you, Kirsty. Bye.”
“I’m sorry.” She grabbed his hand as he started to back away. “I was wrong.”
“Well, this is awkward,” Ford said.
“You move one step and I’m making you fence that south pasture tomorrow,” Nash said.
Monica chose that moment to arrive, trotting up to them. She head-butted Kirsty in the ass.
“Shoo, go away.” Kirsty waved her hands at the pony.
Monica bared her teeth.
“Do not bite Kirsty, Monica!” Ford roared.
Nash had to admit that if she had, he wouldn’t have been upset.
