“You really do love living here, don’t you,” he said, shaking his head slowly. “And there was me thinking you townie’s hated the great outdoors.”
“That would be because you don’t really know me, Gunner.” I took a step away and looked out of the window, to the lush green paddock beyond the stables with the sliding doors which had been pushed open. I turned back around and gave him a flat smile. “Thanks for telling me about Lucas’ mom. I’ll let Mrs.Wright know and now we have the full facts we can come up with some ideas.”
“No problem. Glad I could be of help and just so you know, I’ve been trying to figure you out since the second I met you.” He pulled the chair out at his desk. “And maybe I’ll speak to his mom about that job, that way they won’t have to move to Montrose.”
As Gunner turned back to his paperwork, I didn't immediately leave. I hovered by the door, watching him work. When he glanced up, our eyes met and held for a moment longer than necessary.
"You know," I said quietly, "I misjudged you."
He set down his pen, giving me his full attention. "Yeah?"
"I thought you were just another arrogant rancher who didn't care about anything but his horses." I shifted my weight, suddenly vulnerable. "But you do care. About Lucas, about his mom, about doing the right thing."
Something shifted in his expression. "And you thought I'd do what, let them struggle?"
"I don't know what I thought." I touched the door handle but didn't turn it. "I'm sorry."
The apology hung between us, and for a moment, neither of us moved. Then Gunner's voice, softer than I'd ever heard it: "We both got it wrong, didn't we?"
I nodded, and my heart stumbled a little as he flashed me a warm smile. I tried to ignore how his eyes crinkled at the corners or how his whole face transformed when he wasn’t being a jerk. Why did he have to be so attractive when he was being nice? Being…vulnerable.
“Thank you,” I managed to say.
“Don’t need to thank me, Cassidy. Just next time maybe get the full picture before you accuse me of not giving a damn about something.”
“I didn’t say that,” I told him as he dropped into his chair. “Did you not just hear me apologize?”
“I did but you only had to because you wanted to hate me so badly, you didn’t even stop to notice that I was trying.” He swiveled away from me and picked up a pile of papers. “Anyway, I need to get back to work, so…”
Damn it, for a man with a good heart he could be a real douchebag.
Chapter 7
Problem – Ariana Grande
Gunner
“Who pissed on your grits?” Nash asked, a stupid grin on his face. “Or do you have a hard on you can’t get rid of?”
“No, I do not. My honkers are under control, thank you. It’s you, tapping the steering wheel in time to this shit music you’re listening to.”
His whole body shook as he chuckled and started tapping harder, adding a little hum. We drove like that for another couple of minutes before he leaned forward and turned off the radio.
“Come on little brother, tell me all about it.”
As we turned into the town hall parking lot, I remained silent. As Nash parked up I remained silent. When he turned off the ignition and then nudged me, I finally spoke.
“Cassidy.”
My brother, the stupid num-chuk, burst out laughing. Loud and deep from his belly.
I turned in my seat to face him. “What’s so fucking funny?”
“You and Cassidy. It’s about time you both figured out that you’re thirsty for each other and just do something about it.”
“I’m not thirsty for her,” I scoffed.
“In the words of Bertie, liar, liar, panties on fire.” He reached for his wallet, tucked in by the windshield. “You could cut the sexual tension with a knife when you’re together. So, when the fire goes out on them, pull up your big boy panties and ask her out on a date.”
