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Not only because Rhett was the one to wake me up and see that I was late and covered in wine but because I let Wells down. He expected me to be there to help him, and I wasn’t. This is not the first impression I wanted to make.
I don’t knowwhat the hell came over me. But I don’t like it.
Sure, I was angry when I showed up at the rescue barn bright and early, only to find Wells there feeding animals alone. It only took me a few seconds to realize she hadn’t shown up and a few more seconds to storm off back toward Lucille. Wells had come yellin’ after me, but I kicked her into gear, and we were off.
I think he shouted a few choice words in my direction, but I was too angry to care. It’s disrespectful and just plain lazy to not show up on your first damn day. After the way she showed her ass — literally — I wasn’t about to let her get away with making a fool of my business.
But then I showed up and saw her covered in wine and still dressed in the outfit from yesterday. Her eyes were tired, and her hair was a mess. My protective instincts kicked in. I wondered if we had hired a drunk, something this ranch could not afford another one of. My brother’s face had flashed before my eyes until she opened her damn mouth.
And when I found out she hadn’t eaten? That was it. It was like a light had switched on inside of me that wasn’t going to turn off until I saw her put some damn food in her mouth. Working all day on an empty stomach that had only been supplied wine was just plain stupid. I wasn’t going to have my employees passing out on the job, no matter how much of a pain in my backside she was.
The girl needed a damn meal.
She shifts on the saddle again, and I stifle a groan.
Why the hell did I think it was a good idea to lift her up, letting that sweet scent of hers invade my space, and toss her up on Lucille? And why did I think it would be a good idea to saddle up behind her, pressing our bodies so close there’s not a hair’s breadth between us?
Stupid, stupid man.
Because now I’m stuck grinding against her gorgeous ass for the entire trot up to Momma’s. Cultivating some mental images of my great-grandmother is the only way I can keep my dick under control. The last thing I need is to get a hard-on with the new hire on my horse.
“You have kids.” She states it like it might be a joke.
I grunt in affirmation.
“So you’re married?” Her voice goes up at the end like she would be truly shocked if the answer was yes this time.
I grunt in negation.
“Can you do anything but grunt?” She swings around, whacking me in the face with that pink ponytail that smells like vanilla.
I smack it away. “Yes, I have children. No, I am not married.”
“Girlfriend? Baby mama?”
“Ex-wife.”
“Oh, that makes far more sense.” She snorts.
“Somethin’ funny?”
“Honestly, I couldn’t imagine a woman putting up with you long enough to have babies.” She sighs, and I watch her knuckles tighten on the saddle. “Sorry, that was rude. I’ve been told I have no filter.”
I grunt again. “Takes more than a sassy comment to hurt my feelings, poppyseed.”
Thankfully, Momma’s house comes into view quickly, and both of my children come running out onto the front porch and down the dirt path, eager to meet the new face. Pops has been talking her up since she got here, and she’s now the kids’ newest obsession.
“Your hair is pink,” Jolene states as she looks up at Poppy with wide eyes.
“Pink is her favorite color.” Wade stands behind his older sister, his hand clasped on the back of her dress.
I hop off Lucille and tug Poppy off after me. She immediately walks over to them and sinks to one knee. I try very hard to not notice how those jeans hug that peachy ass as she walks and how the top of the denim gapes at the top when her shirt rides up. It gives me a thin strip of skin to ogle at before her voice cuts through the fog.
“Pink is my favorite color, too!” she says. “My name is Poppy. What’s yours?”
“Jolene. But everyone calls me Jo. Except for Daddy, he calls me Joey.”
“Is that his special nickname for you?” Poppy asks, her voice lowered like they’re sharing a secret. Joey’s head bobs, making the buns on top of her head bounce. Momma is always puttin’ her hair up like that. Space buns, Joey calls ’em.
