I put on a mocking voice. “Where’s Bill? A woman can’t run a farm! You stared at me at the bar.”
“Jesus,” he mutters with an eye roll. He seals the last piece of tape over my gauze. “I said none of those things.”
“Don’t lie to me! What was that whole ‘it was just a look, boss’ thing?” I ask, jumping down. “Give me your arm.”
He hesitates but holds out his arm. “Heckling calms you down. And a look isn’t a stare. It’s just a look.”
I tighten my lips, preparing to lightly slap his arm before stopping myself.
Jake’s mouth falls open. “Excuse me, I saved your cat and you were about to hit me?”
My nostrils flare and I suck in a deep breath, speaking slowly as I wash the area around his scratched forearm. “Thank you, again, for saving Stormy. I’m sorry she scratched you.”
I clean his wound in relative silence, Jake quietly watching my movements.
“No heckling?”
He shakes his head. “You’re doing great.”
After I tape on his bandage, I stand back and peek at the oven clock. “Look, I owe you one. Not everybody would have gone for Stormy like that. You actually . . .” I sniffle and swipe at a tear. “You fought a wild animal for my cat.”
Jake lifts one of those muscled, brawny shoulders. “She’s not just any cat.”
I nod and sigh. “Stay for dinner? I don’t have anything fancy, but it’s the least I can do.”
Jake smirks. “I’ll take you up on that.”
TEN
JAKE
“Draw twenty-five?Are you kidding me? This game is rigged!”
Darcy cackles across the table, tipping back her whiskey tumbler. We put together a dinner from some leftovers she had and decided to have a little whiskey to loosen up after the big coyote scare. Darcy picked out a stack of classic country records, and we’re working our way through them over a game of Uno.
Darcy’s pretty. Beautiful. Especially now with cheeks rosy from the booze and eyes glassy from all our laughing. She’s taken down her hair, continually tossing it and messing with it, tipping her head to the side to wind curls around her fingertips.
She has to know that’s hot, right? It’s not like she’s trying. She’s just cutting loose.
“Ugh, it’s hot in here,” she says, lifting her shirt over her head to reveal a top that’s little more than a bra with some extra fabric to cover her ribs.
Okay, maybe she’s trying a little bit. Now I have to keep my eyes on her face and not sneak looks at her perfectly pushed-up cleavage.
“Eyes up here, cowboy,” she drawls, and my cheeks heat.
Fuck.Guess I wasn’t as slick as I thought.
“Sorry. Whiskey did it to me,” I try.
She lets out a raspy laugh. “Oh, it’s the whiskey, huh? What’s every other man in history’s excuse?” she asks. “Draw the twenty-five. I ain’t got all day.”
“No way,” I say. “I forfeit. This is bullshit.”
“No one likes a quitter, Jake.”
“Are you bullying me, boss?” Stormy jumps up next to me, stepping into my lap and arching her back to beg for pets. “Aw, there’s that kitty.”
Darcy shakes her head, propping her chin into her hand with wide eyes. “She usually hates men.”
