She snags my wrist. “What are you doing? It’ll get infected.”
I shrug. “It smarts.”
“Come on, city boy. I know where Pops keeps the first aid kit.”
I glance pointedly at where her fingers are still wrapped around my wrist, and she drops it like I’ve burned her before turning on the heel of her boots and marching to the house.
Her jeans fit her like a glove and hug her butt in a way that should be illegal. For someone who irritates me so much, her ass sure holds my full attention as she leadsme back to the house.
Once we go inside, she gestures for me to sit at the kitchen table while she digs around in the cupboard underneath the sink.
“You never told me why you’re here,” I say, trying to make conversation since she’s fixing me up.
I’m not always a dick, but yesterday had been a bad day, made worse by the fact that she’d laughed at me and continued to call me city boy.
Sawyer sets the small first aid kit on the table and drops into the chair next to me, rummaging through it to find what she needs. “I was just dropping off some leftovers for Pops. I always try to bring him a few meals a week, so he’s not eating greasy burgers at the diner every day.”
I grunt, feeling a little guilty that I’d snapped at her a minute ago. She grabs my hand, and I pull away as a knee-jerk reaction. Amusement flits through her eyes, which are blue and bright with a liveliness that makes me feel a little unsteady.
I place my hand on her palm and let her examine me as I study her.
Freckles decorate her face and there’s a line that crinkles in the middle of her forehead as her tongue darts out to wet her lips. She’s oblivious to my scrutinizing gaze, concentrating on the sliver.
“So, what are you doing here?” she asks as she grabs the tweezers from the table.
“I told you yesterday. I’m here helping Pops.”
“Hmm.” She doesn’t seem to buy that answer. Or she’s waiting for me to say more, but I’m not about to tell her what my ulterior motive is for being here.
The tweezers dig into skin as she presses the sensitive spot, trying to work the sliver to the surface.
I hiss through gritted teeth. “Ouch! Damnit.”
Her blue eyes silence me with one look, and I’m caught breathless, probably from the pain this damn sliver is causing.
“You should have worn gloves,” she snaps out.
I glower. “I forgot to grab some in town, and I couldn’t find an extra pair in the barn.”
"Top left drawer of the workbench."
"Huh?"
"That's where the spare work gloves are." Her eyes narrow as she digs some more for the sliver. “You'd know that if you ever came out here. Pops could have used you a month ago, right after his heart attack. Whynow?”
She glances up, her eyes holding mine. “Is that really any of your business?”
She presses on the sliver again and the hint of a smile appears at the corner of her mouth when I inhale a sharp breath.
Sadistic.
“Are you torturing me for information, woman?”
Her gaze settles on amusement, but she doesn’t give me an answer, just looks back down at my hand. Her tongue peeks out of her lips as she concentrates on the task, and I decide it’s in my best interest to tell her what she wants to know.
“Dad begged me to come down here and check on Pops, and we agreed it was time to...” I trail off, hesitant to tell her that the goal was to convince Pops to sell the ranch while I was here.
Sawyer didn’t need to know that my parents had been asking me to come check the ranch for the past month, and I’d only caved because my fiancée had dumped me and moved out of the house I’d bought for her. A house I had no desire to live in, especially when it did nothing but remind me of my failed relationship and turn me into a sullen, miserable asshole.
