“Rita got out!” I call back, trying to sound normal and not like I’ve just had the most intense make-out session of my life. “I’m getting her back in her pen!”
“Need help?”
“No! I’ve got it!”
Jesse, Wyatt, and Boone are already melting into the shadows, heading for the tree line that separates our properties. But Jesse turns back for a second, catches my eye, and mouths, “Tomorrow.”
It’s a promise and a threat and everything in between.
The porch light stays on, and I hear Dad’s footsteps on the gravel. He’s coming to check.
“Come on, Rita,” I mutter, pulling her toward her pen. “You’ve caused enough trouble for one night.”
She bleats again, and I swear she’s laughing at me.
By the time Dad reaches me, I’ve got Rita halfway toher pen, and the McCoy brothers have vanished into the darkness.
“Everything okay?” Dad asks, looking around suspiciously.
“Fine. Rita’s just being Rita.”
He looks at me more closely, and I pray the darkness hides my flushed face and swollen lips. “You sure? You look... flustered.”
“Wrestling a goat at midnight will leave a girl flustered,” I say, which isn’t technically a lie.
“Hmm.” He doesn’t look entirely convinced. “Who fixed the fence?”
The question catches me off guard. “What?”
“The fence rail. It’s been repaired. Professional job, too. When did you learn to use a circular saw?”
“I... YouTube,” I lie. “You can learn anything on YouTube.”
“Where’d you get the materials?”
“Had some spare wood in the barn.” Another lie. The lies are piling up fast.
Dad walks over to examine the fence more closely, running his hand along the repair. “This is McCoy-quality work.”
My heart stops. “What makes you say that?”
“See the way the screws are countersunk? The precision of the cut? McCoys always overengineer everything. It’s like a signature.”
I force a laugh. “Maybe I’m just a naturally good student.”
Dad turns to look at me, and there’s somethingknowing in his expression. “Callie, if there’s something you need to tell me?—”
“There’s nothing to tell, Dad.” Except that I just kissed three McCoy brothers and liked it. Loved it. Want to do it again.
“Okay.” But he doesn’t sound convinced. “Get that goat secured and get to bed. We’ve got practice tomorrow for the fundraiser.”
Right. The fundraiser. Where I’ll have to see Jesse, Wyatt, and Boone again and pretend nothing happened. Pretend I don’t know how they taste, how they kiss, how their hands feel on my skin.
“Night, Dad.”
“Night, sweetheart. And, Callie?”
“Yeah?”
