“Are you kidding me? I thought you were past this,” I snap.
He holds up his hands in a surrender. “It was a joke.”
“Passive-aggressive comments are not a joke,” I spit back at him. “Is this going to be a problem? If you took one look at the research, the samples, and everything I’ve sent back to the lab for the guys to go through, then you would know damn well how serious this is.”
“I don’t understand why you had to be the one to handle it,” he says as his gaze darts behind me.
Is he jealous?
“This is my hometown. I know these people and this land better than anyone else. Ranchers are more willing to let me on their property than some outsider.”
“You sure it’s not for some other reason, like that guy?” he asks as he gestures at Wade, who’s walking into the barn.
“I’m certain that it had nothing to do with him. And that’s none of your business. It’s a completely inappropriate question to ask an employee.”
“You—”
I don’t want to argue with him anymore so I have to stop this conversation altogether. Otherwise will just keep going in circles forever.
“Why don’t you wait in your car while I go get showered and dressed?” I ask.
“Why can’t I go with you?”
“You’re a sexual harassment lawsuit waiting to happen,” I hiss under my breath.
“You know you want it.”
“Jesus, we’re not still doing this! I’ve told you at least a dozen times that I do not. Don’t say it again, or I will quit.”
“You wouldn’t quit.”
“Try me, Ronnie,” I spit back at him.
I turn on my heel and stalk back into the house, locking all the doors as I do.
Twenty minutes later, I’m back outside. Ronnie is nowhere to be found. I breathe a sigh of relief. His car is gone, which means he’s probably pouting. He’s the type of guy who probably thought following me out in the field and weaseling his way into my hotel room or whatever would get him laid. That’s never going to be the case with me.
Benny is walking out of the house; his hat is off and he’s worriedly running his hand through what’s left of his graying hair.
“Benny!” I call out. He turns, sweat streaking his forehead, and wipes his hands on his jeans. “Where’s Ronnie?”
He squints at me, confused. “Ronnie? Was that the guy in the Beemer?”
I nod.
He snorts, shaking his head. “He said something about the smell being too much and he’d catch up with you later.”
Relief fills me. “Thank God. I didn’t want to deal with him.”
He tilts his head, curiosity flickering in his brown eyes. “Who is he, anyway?”
“My boss.”
His eyebrows lift slightly, but he doesn’t push. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, and that’s when I notice the way his gaze flits around the yard like he’s expecting something. Or someone.
“Benny, what’s wrong?”
He hesitates, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was looking for Wade, but I can’t find him. Or Mr. C.”
