“Only if you want to,” she says. “I know you made that promise to your dad, and you haven’t—I mean, we haven’t fully crossed that line, and if you don’t want to—"
“Oh, I’m definitely going to bury myself in that pretty pussy of yours, honey.” I step closer, but the sound of tires crackling over gravel pulls my attention to the driveway.
Wes climbs out of the ancient pickup he insists on keeping for some reason and wanders toward us. Quinn steps away from me, and I push down the disappointment that twists in my gut.
“You gonna stand here all day and flirt with my sister or are you gonna do what I pay you for and work?”
He fixes me with a look—part glare, part warning—and I shove my hands in my pockets. “Don’t get your panties in a twist. I was just sayin’ hi.”
It’s true enough.
I try not to let the guilt eat at me, try not to feel like I’m defiling his little sister right under his nose.
He turns to Quinn. “How’s Pops this morning?”
“Pissed off that I shoved fruit and Cheerios in front of him this morning and called it breakfast.”
Wes’ eyes roll.
“He threatened to drive to the café to get real food.”
He groans. “You want me to talk to him?”
Quinn shakes her head. “No, it’s fine. I might take him on a field trip today. I think he’s feeling a little cooped up and misses his friends.”
“Alright. If he gets to be too much, just let me know.”
Now it’s Quinn’s turn to roll her eyes. “Wes, I’ve bathed a feral cat before. I think I can handle an old man with a surly attitude, a bad heart, and a craving for red meat.”
“Better you than me,” he mutters.
Quinn eyes me, a flicker of heat in her gaze. “See you guys later.”
“See ya, Quinnie.” I wink. I’ve gotta come up with a way to get her alone later. Our conversation about me fucking her is going to stick with me all damn day.
I tack up the horses while Wes gets the bottle calves fed. I’m sure he could have asked Quinn to do it, and she would have been happy to help, but he’s always worried she takes on too much.
We ride out to move the herd again. Most of them have calved now, so we can start moving some of the cows with older calves into the same pasture.
“New stable’s lookin' good,” I say, trying to brush off the guilt eating at me as we ride out to the pasture.
“Yeah. Should be ready for the horses in a month or so. We really need to figure out who’s gonna be doing the lessons so we can start pulling in some income from that.”
“You got any idea who?” I ask.
He drags a hand over his face. “No fucking clue. I’m starting to wonder if I shouldn’t have poured all this money into building it before I had someone in mind to hire, but Sawyer was sure it was a brilliant idea.”
“Itisa good idea,” I reassure him. “You just haven’t been back in the horse community long enough to know people.”
“What about you? Anyone you can think of who’d want the position?”
I tilt my head to the side, thinking. “Maybe.”
Wes cocks a brow. “Who?”
“Brooks Wilder. He was my roping partner on the circuit.”
Wes nods. “How long’s he been out of the circuit?”
