I sip on the straw as I walk right up to Sam’s back. He’s busy instructing the guys on what the plan is. I try to ignore how hot his authoritative voice is.
“We’re headed out to the northeast pasture, where the old windmill is. I noticed several big steers back there that missed getting branded. I want to round them all up and take them to the middle arena since it’s not as far. Joe and Tim will go with Duke to heat up the branding irons. The cooler has all the vaccines labeled, so any calf with a notch in his left ear and no tags has to get a shot. I need—” His voice cuts short when he notices the guys aren’t paying attention to his little speech.
He slowly turns around, his eyes shifting down since I’m over a foot shorter than him. I take another slow sip of my Diet Coke. I wish I’d worn my contacts so I could make out the full details of his expression.
“Reporting for duty,boss.”
His blue eyes dip over me slowly, taking in every inch of my frame at a leisurely rate. He licks his lips before his gaze reaches mine again. His jaw ticks.
“Go change,” he commands through gritted teeth.
I push up onto my tiptoes and attempt to ignore the way he smells so damn good, like sweat and pine needles. I drop my voice to a whisper. “Make. Me.”
The vein in his neck is bulging, like he’s about to explode. Sam has always been very in control of his emotions. I’ve never once seen him lose his temper. He glances down over me again, his eyes narrowing to slits. His expression goes frantic as he looks behind him and back at me.
“The guys aren’t gonna be able to focus out there. Someone could get hurt.”
I roll my eyes and shift my weight to the other foot. “That would be devastating, to be sure. However, it’s not my problem. I was told to show up, and here I am. Take it or leave it. I’d be happy to go back to the house, where there’s AC.”
He shuts his eyes, dipping his head back and pinching the bridge of his nose. The effectiveness of my plan is bringing out a sick sense of satisfaction in me.
So quickly too.
He looks behind me angrily. “Thank God you’re here. Can you deal with this?” He throws a hand up, gesturing up and down my frame.
I turn around, seeing the blurry forms of my brothers Duke and Sterling walking up. Sterling is an active duty Marine, and I haven’t seen him in months. I squeal with excitement and run up to him. I trip on a rock, but manage to right myself before falling on my face.
“I missed you!” I jump up into his arms with a bear hug.
He grins, wrapping his arms around me. “Hey, missed you too, pip-squeak. Love the sunglasses.”
He smells familiar, like coffee and the musky cologne he always wears.
“What’s the matter?” Duke asks.
I turn around, a smirk ghosting across my lips. My brothers have never policed my attire. My mom always taught us that even though we live in the rural Southern state of Texas,modestyis a social construct and more internal than external.
Sam gestures to me, clearly agitated. “She can’t wear that out to the fields,” he grumbles under his breath.
Duke looks me up and down, his brow furrowed. “Well, shit, it’s not like she’s gonna tackle the calves, is she? Who cares? Let’s go.”
I spin around, pulling my glasses down my nose just far enough so he can see the triumph in my gaze.
Your move, Seymour.
His face darkens with fury, but he doesn’t respond before turning on his heel and marching toward his beat-up white ranch truck.
Sterling chuckles. “You have a lot to learn about women if you think you’re going to tell Dolly what she can and can’t wear.”
14
SAM
Iknow she’s doing this to torture me. Logically, I know this.
Practically? I can’t take my eyes off her.
Dolly Redford’s ass was made to distract men from getting any fucking work done.
