“Don’t let Wick’s hotness intimidate you,” the freckled, slightly chubby one said. “He’s a horn dog andwilltry to get you in our bed at some point. Don’t take it personally.”
The hot one—Wick, apparently—pushed his lover aside. “Please take it as personally as you’d like.”
“You’re up,” Kit grunted, pointing at the food line.
Wick held up his hands. “Sorry, didn’t realize he was taken.”
“I’m not taken,” I practically yelled out after them.
Kit grabbed my arm. “You arenotgoing with them. They would chew you up and spit you out.”
I held up my hands. “You’re not making a very good case for staying away, Kit. Chewed up and spit out sounds like a damn good time.”
“You’re here in a professional capacity.”
I grimaced. He had a point.
“But if they should so happen to find me on the hook-up apps,” I said loudly, “I make no promises.”
Kit’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “You’re on the hook-up apps?”
“Oh, sweet summer child. Woody mentioned it used to be slim pickings out here, but I could pull up the app right now and find a friend for the night in under five minutes. Probably on this property.”
He adjusted his collar. “I’ll remind you again that you’re in here in a professional capacity.”
“Of course.” I patted his arm, placating him. “I’m just sayin’.”
“Well.” He crushed his hat in his well-worn hands. “Stop sayin’ it in earshot of those three.”
I chuckled, not sure exactly what to do with all ofthat. We quickly grabbed our breakfast tacos, and Sam led us back to the front porch, where sat a handsome, disgruntled cowboy, eating his breakfast taco like it had offended him.
“Skylar, I’d like you to meet my husband, Trip. Trip, Skylar.”
The put-upon cowboy carefully placed his taco on the plate and slowly rose to face me. Holy hell.Good job, Sam. Good fucking job.
I mean, the man was mixing his plaid button up with an unfortunate A&M T-shirt, but he was tall, built like a brick wall, and had the most beautiful blue eyes. Even though he was younger than me, his hands had the same pattern of callouses I saw on Kit’s hands.
And based on the way he guarded that left shoulder of his, this poor cowboy was in a world of hurt.
“There’s nothing wrong with me a little Advil can’t fix,” he muttered.
I wasn’t about to contradict him, so I glanced at Sam. He held up his well-manicured hand and walked over to his husband.
“Trip, baby, you can’t even pick up our children.”
That got Trip’s attention. “Who told you?”
“Renée. She said Daddy couldn’t pick her up, and she was sad because she could tell you were in pain.”
“Darlin’, I know she worries, but I don’t have the time to deal with this.”
Sam went toe-to-toe with his husband, tipping his head back to look into Trip’s eyes, annoyance and affection playing out in his expression. “Darlin’, you are drowning in highly qualified people who wouldlovean opportunity to step in. You mean totell me Wick and Joaquin couldn’t run this place blindfolded? And what about Junior?”
I sent a pointed look to Kit, who had the grace to look at his boots.
“Fine,” Trip practically growled, “but I’m not going in for an MRI.”
I hip-checked Kit. “Is this a cowboy thing? What is it with y’all and MRIs?”
