“Geez.” Sadie pretends to cover her ears with her hands and sing. “TMI. But as long as it’s not my office.”
I roll my eyes. “No one is banging in your office or anywhere else on Lawless property. I’m pretty sure I want to keep my job.”
I love it how none of them can barely contain their childish laughter while I remain the face of all seriousness.
“I heard Zane saying that Brett needs a place to crash. He’s been staying at the Alpine Apartments and possibly moving to Jed’s couch this weekend.” Izzy looks at me pointedly and waggles her eyebrows.
“And what has that got to do with me?” I ask as JB busies herself getting the box of muffins ready for us, but I can tell from the way she presses her lips together that she’s keeping up with the conversation.
“What about the bunkhouse over at Cedar Hollow? You could put poor Brett up until one of the workers’ cottages opens up?” Izzy suggests, as like it’s the most normal thing in the world, to let a man you’ve known for two days, but have already slept with multiple times, live on my property. She’s talking about the bunkhouse I’ve spent the past six months renovating and turning into a rustic cabin accommodation that I plan to rent out to tourists once it’s finished. It’s just a little side hustle I’ve been working on for a while in between work and the animals. The extra income will come in handy, and it’s down the bottom of my property, so not near the main house at all, but surrounded by trees and backs onto the lake.
“How would that be a good idea?” I balk as Sadie and JB share a giggle. “And what’s poor about him?”
“Do I need to spell it out?” Izzy places a hand on her hip and pouts.
“You haven’t even met the guy, Iz!”
She shakes her head. “Well, I’ll be sure to meet him today if he’s working. And I don’t need to meet him to know you’re completely smitten.”
“Now that I can attest to,” Sadie chimes in.
I give her a look somewhere between an eye roll and utter exasperation. “I’m just having a little fun, that’s it,” I say. “It’s been long enough, the dry spell was at epic proportions.”
“Well, I think it’s a great thing,” JB says, placing the muffin box on the counter while her Barista, Jaimee, gets the coffee order organized. “And I can confirm from what I saw at the Perky Porch, he’s hot.”
“YESSS!” Izzy cries with glee. “It’s what we all want for you Bailey, and a hot cowboy is what the doctor ordered.”
“Which doctor?” I grumble.
My grumpiness over this whole line of questioning doesn’t discourage Izzy, oh no, not one bit. If anything, it only spurs her on and encourages her to keep talking about things she has no clue about. Like Brett.
“So what do you say, Bails? Can you spare your bunkhouse out of the kindness of your heart for one of Lawless Tree Farms newest workers?” she asks. “I’m sure Zane will organize a reference check so we’re not setting you up for a fall if he turns out to be not who he says he is.”
“You seem awfully concerned about Brett’s living arrangements,” I point out. “Since you’ve never even met the guy.”
“I can only tell you what Zane was saying to Dad earlier. They were trying to figure out a solution to his living quarters for the time being.”
“The old bunkhouse it is!” JB sings as she starts putting the coffee cups in the cardboard holders, ready for us to take.
I side-eye her. “Don’t you start, I have enough with these two on my plate.”
“Hey, what did I do?” Sadie chirps. I just love how she acts all innocent in this. It was her and JB that pushed me to go and talk toCowboy Brettythat night. Not that I’m complaining, of course, I just don’t know how to navigate this. The intensity I’m experiencing with him isn’t something I’ve ever had before.
“You might not be saying much, but I know how your mind works,” I say to Sadie.
She doesn’t argue with that and it almost makes me smile. Something I’ve apparently been doing a lot more in the last twenty-four hours, according to my friends. All false, of course.
“You know, if the bunkhouse isn’t suitable for your new lover boy, then maybe your place might just do the trick.” Izzy winks a very exaggerated wink.
“Do you have something stuck in your eye?” I quip.
She laughs and shakes her head.
“To set the record straight, he’s not staying at my place.”
“But he cooked in your kitchen and spent the night,” JB points out in a hushed whisper, even though there are no other customers within earshot, thank goodness.
I don’t need the whole town knowing about my sudden sexcapades. “He knows his way around the place, saves going back and forth.” JB shrugs like that really is the biggest solution of all time.
