Page 7 of Burned

I can hearthem before I see them.

I’m running late — got caught up fixing a fence out on the edge of the property and lost track of time. Not that I was thrilled to meet the new face of Rescue Ranch, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t going to attempt to be professional.

But as I round the barn, I can hear both of them cackling and hollering like they’ve not got a care in the world. That’s the first thing that pisses me off. The second thing is that when I get to the open barn door, the sight I’m greeted with is the bottom curve of her ass as she bends over to help Wells up.

He’s on the barn floor, laughing so hard his face is red and his eyes are shut. The new litter of puppies we took in are trying to lick him to death while they nip at Poppy’s ankles. She’s laughing so hard there’s barely any noise coming out, just a wheezing cough as she tries to catch her breath.

And all the while, that sundress she’s wearing is so short that if she moves, I’m going to see exactly what panties she chose to wear this morning. And that infuriates me. Who does she think she is? Showing up on her first day dressed like that…for aranch. Even the little sandals she’s wearing make me mad. What if she stubs her toe? Rolls an ankle in a hole some animal has dug?

“Wells!” she squeals as she wipes her eyes and then tries to lift him up again. Her hands are all over him, touching his shoulders, gripping his biceps as she tries to yank him up off the ground. But he’s too far gone in his laughter to even make an effort. He falls back fully on the floor.

“What the hell is going on in here?”

My voice booms through the barn, scaring her and the puppies. They run off, but she spins so fast to face me that she trips over one of them and flails. Down she goes, right on top of Wells as his arms open, and he tries to catch the brunt of her fall. Her legs fly up into the air — and yep, there’s her panties. White cotton-looking things with strawberries all over them.

Christ, give me the fucking strength.

They both burst out laughing again as Wells envelops her in his embrace, and they roll to the side to deflect her fall. Her hair is falling in her face and out of the…what the fuck. Is that a bow in her damn hair? One, her hair is a pinky-peach color, which you don’t see around here. And I don’t like at all that I find it pretty. Two, she has it tied up with a silky-looking ribbon that lets pieces of that pretty hair fall into her gorgeous face.

I bite the inside of my mouth hard enough to taste blood and fist my fingers until they go numb.

I willnotfind the new hire attractive. I will not. I will not. I will not.

Someone needs to tell that to my dick, though, because it needs to deflate. Immediately.

Walking over to both of them, I reach out and grab hold of her wrist before she can protest and yank her up off my youngest brother. Her laughter dies when she lands on her feet, and she’s quick to try and right her dress and her hair.

“Hey, brother,” Wells says, climbing up off the floor. The way he looks at me is annoying, with that little smirk like he knows exactly how I’m thinking right now. “This is Poppy.”

She outstretches her hand with a big smile that lights up those hazel eyes of hers. Her lips are full and pink, andfuck, they look like they’d be fun. Pushing that thought as far away from my mind as I can, I look down at her hand and then back up to her face before crossing my arms. Her hand falls back to her hips as she looks me over.

“Rhett, I presume?” she asks, her voice all sass, even though the kind smile hasn’t left her face.

I grunt.

“Told you he was a ray of sunshine,” Wells says. “Just be glad I’m your boss and not him.”

He winks at her, and she snorts out another little laugh. When her eyes swivel back to me, they hold a lot less kindness. Good. Keep it that way. She doesn’t need to like me; she just needs to do her job.

“My ranch,” I state.

“Yes, Rhett. We all know.” Wells makes a show of pounding his chest and speaking like a caveman. “Me Rhett. Me owner. Me big, strong man.”

Poppy laughs again, but this time, she has the decency to cover her mouth like she needs to be at least a little respectful in front of the boss.

“You bring different clothes?” I ask her, ignoring my brother.

“You think I can’t work in a sundress?”

“Iknowyou can’t work in a sundress unless you want to have all the men around here running after you, waiting for a swift breeze to blow it up.”

“That what you’ll be doing, cowboy?”

Wells snorts.

I grit my teeth and breathe in deep through my nose.

“Yes,” she says, rolling her eyes. “I brought plenty of work clothes. Don’t get your panties in a knot. I’m an adult, not a child.”

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