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“Her words, not mine,” I clarify.
“Who approved her vacation time forthat?”
“Take a guess.” I laugh.
“Of course. My father, right?”
“Yep.”
Noah shakes her head. She’s like me—all work and hardly any play.
If I’ve learned one thing about Garrett Hollis, he’s a hopeless romantic. During the first week of my training, he talked nonstop about meeting Dena and falling madly in love the moment he laid eyes on her. They were engaged and married within three months of meeting.
“Maybe you should take a week off and go find yourMr. Right,” I tease, grabbing a shovel and taking a wheelbarrow to Miss Swift’s stall.
“If I’m takin’ a week off to do anything, it’s to be alone with my rose vibrator in a whirlpool tub and drinkin’ expensive wine.”
I grunt at the unwanted visual. “One of those things I didn’t need to know.”
“Hey, when you find something that snatches your soul, you’d be open about it too.”
“What’s a vibrator?” Mallory asks. She has her horse next to her, waiting.
Noah’s face pales as she quickly spins around. “Um, nothin’. It’s like a back massager.”
“Cool! Can I get one?”
“No!” Noah blurts out, grabbing the saddle pad and placing it on the horse’s back. “It’s for adults only.”
Mallory frowns. “That’s not fair. I’m gonna ask Uncle Garrett. He’ll buy one for me.”
Noah turns and scowls at me for not warning her Mallory was behind her. Laughing, I continue shoveling and keep my mouth closed.
“You wanna learn to do this on your own someday, then I reckon you pay attention,” Noah scolds when Mallory continues rambling about getting a vibrator.
“Yes, ma’am.”
As soon as Miss Swift is brushed, saddled, and Mallory’s situated on top, Noah leads them out to the corral, and I finish up her stall.
“How are things goin’?” Waylon asks, mud covering his face and soaking through his clothes.
“What the hell happened to you?”
“Four-wheeler got stuck, so I pushed from behind while Wilder steered, and well, ya see how that turned out.”
I chuckle. “Damn, wish I’d witnessed that.”
Wilder comes strolling in with a shit-eating grin on his face. He’s as clean as a whistle.
They’re identical twins, but their personalities couldn’t be more different. They’re the oldest of the Hollis kids but not necessarily the maturest.
“Not sure that’s only mud,” Wilder taunts.
“It better be or—” Waylon sprints toward his brother and tackles him to the ground.
“Dude, what the fuck?” Wilder fights back, and unless there’s blood, I don’t get involved.
Wilder’s known as the rowdy twin for a reason, and even if he doesn’t start the fights, he’s sure to finish them.
