I run a hand down Star’s neck, my palm brushing over the soft rise of her coat.
“Yeah, alright. But if that man starts preaching about his so-called rescue missions again, do me a favour and remind him what the word actually means.”
I exhale sharply through my nose, rubbing at a place just above Star’s withers. At least I know Jensen will do right by the animals—patch them up and keep them healthy. That makes swallowing the situation a little easier. Even if it means he has to work at John’s damn ranch.
I follow Jensen out of the stall, patting my leg so that Buddy leaps off a haystack, falling into step beside me as we head toward our trucks.
"So, you on for tonight still?" Jensen asks as we walk.
I frown.
"What?"
Jensen groans, throwing his head back dramatically.
"Oh, Ford. Come on. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten again?"
I grimace but end up shooting him a look full of exasperation.
"Hey, don’t start with me. You know how much I’ve got on my plate … I can’t remember everything."
"Yeah, yeah, I know you’re stressed, that’s why I keep telling you to slow down or, I don’t know, hire some damn help around here."
I scoff.
"You sound like my mom."
Jensen smirks.
"Yeah, and I’m starting to feel like it too. If you don’t slow down, you’re gonna burn yourself out, or worse, you’re gonna end up old and grumpy… even grumpier than you already are, might I add, like … like …"
He pauses, thinking, and then I see it, the spark in his eyes when he lands on the exact thing to piss me off.
"… like John."
I stop dead in my tracks, fixing him with a glare so sharp it could split timber.
Jensen barks out a laugh.
"Ha! Knew you’d love that."
I shove him in the arm, maybe a little harder than necessary. "Don’t you ever compare me to that man."
"Seriously though, you need to find yourself a woman," he tells me, shaking his head. "Someone to make you slow down and actually enjoy life."
I scoff again.
"Yeah, I had a woman and look how that turned out. No thanks. I’m fine on my own."
"Sure."
He says it in a way that makes it clear he doesn't believe me.
We reach the trucks, and Jensen swings open his door. "Anyway, eight o’clock. Bar. Try to show up on time for once."
I grumble an incoherent mess of irritation under my breath, as I climb into my truck. Buddy leaps in after me, landing in his usual spot before I can even settle into mine, and as I look toward Jensen’s truck, he turns, catching my gaze, and then drags a hand across his mouth, miming a wide, exaggerated grin.
I roll my eyes and shove my truck into reverse, backing out before he can catch the slight twitch at the corner of my lips.
