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“Callie. Do you mind if I…?”
He angled his head toward her house.
Keep your fucking hands to yourself for once,I wanted to growl.
The problem was that I had no reason to.
Yes, I had feelings for Callie, even if she clearly didn’t return those feelings. Besides, every time I opened my mouth around her, I made things worse. What would a sweet, pretty girl like that want with a sour cowboy who liked horses more than people?
“You can do whatever you damn well please, Beau,” I replied. “I ain’t stoppin’ you.”
Chapter Three
Callie
You should be more careful. Could have broken your neck.
I bristled all over again at the memory of that sullen cowboy, telling me what to do. Why couldn’t he just mind his own business?
Grumbling to myself, I stomped through the garden, picking buckets of vegetables. The Magpie Street Farmer’s Market was coming up this Saturday and I still had a mountain of things to get done before then.
I couldn’t believe my rotten luck, though. The first time I encountered two attractive, nearly naked, sweaty, muscled cowboys, and I had to be coated in mud, humiliated after my horse threw me. I’d tried my best to salvage the situation, but it wasn’t exactly the romantic meet-cute I’d been hoping for when I moved back to Ash Ridge.
My love life had gained very little traction while I was in New York. I simply wasn’t attracted to the guys I crossed paths with there. They were obsessed with life in the big city. And I wasn’t. All I wanted to do was get back to Robinwood Acres, back to Colorado, where I would spend my days riding horses, eating fresh homemade apple pie, and stargazing under a sky that was pitch black and practically untouched by light pollution.
Beau Collins was more my type. A hard-working cowboy with an easy smile and a drawl that could melt my panties right off if I wasn’t careful. I liked a man who made his attraction obvious without leering at me. The sparkle in his brown eyes when he looked me up and down was proof he appreciated a woman with a full figure like mine.
The rumble of an engine made me look up. A truck pulled into my neighbor’s driveway with a trailer in tow. That sour-faced cowboy emerged.
Landon.
Hera lifted her head and trotted over with a smooth, floating gait. Her cream-colored tail was held high, streaming out behind her like a ribbon. After her escape yesterday, she was relegated to the section of pasture closest to the house—a small, cramped area that couldn’t sustain her for long. I needed to get that broken fence fixed sooner, rather than later. She was growing restless already and she’d only been cooped up for less than a day.
The memory of Grandma Cora’s words echoed in my mind.
She has a crush on the local farrier. He’s a fine-looking young man though, so I can’t blame her. She has good taste.
Of course. My horse and my grandmother were enamored with the one cowboy I couldn’t stand around here.
Landon approached the fence, stroking Hera’s nose. He withdrew something from his pocket and offered it to her. She gobbled it up eagerly, nudging him for more.
Little Miss Traitor.
Hera was never that affectionate with me. She had gleefully kicked up her heels and took off at a hard gallop after encouraging Tennyson to dump me in the mud. Now, she cozied up to Landon as if they were old friends.
Hera grabbed a mouthful of Landon’s button-down shirt with a yank that nearly made him stumble into the fence.
And helaughed.
I blinked in surprise.
No, that couldn’t be right. Maybe I justthoughthe laughed. It was hard to tell at this distance with an entire pastureseparating us. I couldn’t imagine Landon laughing at all. He was always scowling and barely mumbled two words together.
He bowed his head toward Hera, smoothing his hands along her neck in a hypnotizing rhythm. She blew out a breath of contentment as she leaned into him. They stayed like that for several long minutes and a prickle of heat burned in my chest.
I wasnotjealous of a horse.
No way.
