“You have the pen next to mine?” I should have known.
He steps away from me, his broad brimmed black hat bobs as he nods.
“Well, Misty is eating their food and I need you to move it away from the fence line.” I can feel my jaw jut slightly as I look up at him. “Please?” I add sharply for emphasis.
“I don’t mind, we brought plenty of extra hay for the week.” His shoulders rise and fall in his snug t-shirt.
“That’s not the point.” I want to stomp or pull out my hair with how dense these men are. “I’m very careful with what she eats.”
“So you don’t want me to use the feeder that’s built in place, but rig up something on the opposite side?” Oliver’s arms cross his chest, covering the spot I ricocheted off of just a moment ago. “Did you happen to bring any extra lumber,MissSophia?”
I mimic his pose, boosting my chin as I glare up at him. “Don’t be ridiculous. Are you saying you didn’t even bring a net?” I don’t know what kind of horseman doesn’t have back up plans.
“Delbert? I need to change pens.” I stop the manager before he slinks away.
“I’m sorry.” He holds up his palms in surrender. “We’re full up, Miss Sophia.”
Fucking hell. My teeth grind, I’m clenching them so hard.
“What if we switch?” Oliver’s finger flicks between the two gates. “Mine might steal a little from yours, but she won’t be able to reach that feeder.” He points at the far side.
Then he flashes a grin. “I won’t even stress about my geldings eating your fancy shit.”
“I didn’t bring enough for three horses.” Yet I don’t see any other way that this will work.
“My boys are like bulldogs, they’ll be too lazy to go after your high octane stuff. Your only other option is to let her take a little of mine and hope she doesn’t get a gut ache,” Oliver grunts. “Much like the one I’m getting over this conversation.”
Asshole.
I might not say the word, but I have no doubt it’s written all over my face.
“Fine,” I mutter.
“I’ll help,” Rachel adds. “I’ll take her for a walk around the area until you’re done.”
I try to give her my most genuine smile.
By the time we finish moving the stacked bales from one holding area to the other, I’m hot and cranky.
Oliver has barely broken a sweat, and he hauled three times as many as I did.
Must be nice to have all those muscles.
Too bad they’re wasted on such a jerk.
When Misty gets put into her new stall, she goes directly to try and sniff out the remnants of the old alfalfa.
“My ex-wife was like that,” Oliver muses as he wipes his palms over the hips of his Wranglers. “Always wanted what she couldn’t have.”
Rachel leans against the fence, propping her toe on the bottom edge as she watches Oliver saunter away. “Whew, if I was single—”
“Gross. Let’s go get some curly fries, I only have an hour until we get the arena.” My thigh hurts where I broke my leg from lifting the heavy bales.
But there was no way I was going to whine.
“So, you’re all fired up over what your horse eats while you go for the greasy stuff?” she chuckles, falling into stride next to me.
“I’m pretty healthy at home. I need some comfort food.” I pluck a leaf of alfalfa from her auburn braid. “My treat.”
