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“Nothing’s wrong with ya. And there is one interested party. You just won’t give him the time of day.” Her brows shoot up just as a firm hand squeezes my shoulder.

“Ready for lunch?” Payton asks. I meet my best friend’s bright-blue eyes.

Maize crosses her arms over her chest and grins. She has this stupid idea that Payton likes me, but he’s never given me any signals, so I’ve always pushed it away.

“I can wait until y’all are finished chattin’,” he says politely.

“Oh, we’re done. Trust me,” I say, then walk toward the buffet line.

“I’m just sayin’! You know it’s true.” Maize laughs as she moves back to the kitchen.

“What’s she talkin’ about?”

“Nothin’. Don’t listen to her,” I tell him as I stack two drumsticks, a huge scoop of Grandma Bishop’s famous potato salad, and green beans on my plate. I finish it off with a honey butter biscuit. Payton follows my lead.

My stomach growls when we sit at one of the long tables, and I’m thankful Mom reminded me to eat. I would’ve been hangry.

“How’s work goin’?” I ask Payton just as he takes a huge bite of chicken.

“Nothing but a bunch of fuckin’,” he says with a laugh, and it causes me to snort. “But that’s the business.”

Payton works at the stud operation with my older twin brothers, Kane and Knox. It’s been super successful, and he’s been their right-hand man since the very beginning. I honestly don’t know how Knox pulled it off, considering how much trouble he used to get in. But since he married Hadleigh and had a couple of kids, he’s a new man. Sorta. My brother can still be a raging asshole, but I love him regardless.

“What about you?” he asks.

“Same shit, different day. Though I fell off twice and nearly got kicked in the head this mornin’ so that was fun.”

“Yikes. Good thing you’re as tough as nails.”

“That’s for damn sure. Nothing I can’t handle. I’m gonna have that little pony trained whether he likes it or not. But get this, his name is Widowmaker.”

“Fuck,” Payton hisses. “Who’d he kill?”

“No one. Yet. Probably me, though, if he had the choice.”

Payton has nearly cleaned his plate by the time I take a bite of potato salad and goes back to the buffet for round two. That’s the thing about these ranch hands. They can eat a person out of house and home. As he picks up one set of tongs to get more chicken, I notice a cute brunette eye-fucking him. He laughs when they go for the same piece.

“It’s all yours, sweetheart,” he kindly tells her.

She smiles. “Go ahead. I’ll take this one. It’s bigger. You work on the ranch?”

“Yes, ma’am. Have been workin’ on ranches my whole life.”

“I can tell.” The airy tone isn’t lost on me. By the time they make it to the end of the line, she’s nearly told him her life story and touched his arm at least three times. Not that I’m counting. Before walking away, she not-so-casually tells him she’ll be staying at the B&B for the next week, then hands him her business card. “Call me sometime. Maybe you can show me ’round.”

“Sure thing.” He shoves the card in his pocket, then returns to the table.

He immediately digs into his second plate. I glare at him, and almost a whole minute passes before he notices.

“What? I got shit on my face or somethin’?”

I roll my eyes and lean forward, keeping my voice low. “You gonna call her?”

“Who?”

Is he really that dense? “That woman who just gave you her number with a side of cleavage.”

He finishes chewing, then meets my gaze. “No. Why would I?”

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