I nod, glad to be asked. I hate feeling like a leech who needs all the help. I wanna feel useful.
“I’d love to! As long as Dolly is okay with it.”
“She will be. It’s awful, trying to beat the funeral with the wedding. But she wants him to walk her down the aisle, which I get. All right, let’s go see if these kids want lunch, hmm?”
“Let’s do it.”
7
DUKE
We usually have the ranch hands do this job because it’s sweaty and miserable. But I needed to let off some steam and exert some energy. Holden and Sam seem to know that’s what I need more than to talk about my feelings, so they came with me and haven’t said much.
I’m up on the back of the trailer, sitting on the stacks of square hay bales. Holden is driving the truck, just like he did when we were kids. We finished the last field and are heading in for the evening. Sam is sitting across from me, drenched in sweat like I am. The familiar manure and hay scent fills my nostrils as we pass by a herd of cows in one of the front pens. They’re waiting to be sold off at the next auction, complaining loudly.
My once-white T-shirt is practically soaked through, and I’m itchy all over from the hay.
Holden backs the trailer up to the barn. I start carrying the bales off the trailer to Sam, who’s stacking them againstthe back wall. My Stetson keeps the sun and sweat out of my eyes. My stomach growls with hunger from the hard day’s work.
When we’re about halfway through, the hem of my shirt gets caught on a loose wire on the trailer and tears the bottom up a few inches. I’m already itching like crazy, so I just rip it the rest of the way.
I look up as I’m peeling it off my shoulders, my gaze meeting the widened eyes of Dallas Hayes. I smirk as I finish taking the destroyed shirt off and toss it to the ground.
“Hey there, darlin’.”
She swallows, her eyes trailing down over my sweaty abs and arms. My muscles are aching from lifting so many hay bales. I grab another, tossing it off the trailer to Sam. Dallas’s twin boys are running around her in circles with Rosie and the girls coming up behind them much more calmly.
“Hey, how much longer? Dinner is ready,” Rosie says to Holden.
“We’re just about done, angel.”
I grab another bale, tossing it to Sam. We have about ten left, but I don’t see any reason to delay the show for our new audience. I take off my cowboy hat, wiping the dripping sweat from my brow while Holden talks to Rosie.
One of the small boys climbs up into the trailer while his mom is distracted. Dawson, I think, starts trying to grab the closest bale and pull it toward the end of the trailer.
“Wow, you’re strong.” I grab the other wire and start tugging with him.
He grunts, barely making any progress until I pull with him. Pretty soon, Dutton hops up there with him and goesfor the next closest bale. They look adorable while dragging the squares toward the end of the trailer. I move behind them, grabbing a wire from each of their bales to help them get it to the end of the trailer.
“That’s what I’m talking about. Just the kind of help we needed out here.”
They’re both grinning at me when Sam and Holden take their bales to stack them.
“We’re not done. Gotta keep working,” I tell them, leading them back over to the remaining few bales.
We do the last few the exact same way. Their cute little faces are focused on the task as they follow my lead.
They don’t give up, helping me until we finish unloading. I hold my hands up to give them each a high five before meeting Dallas’s eyes.
She’s gaping up at me, eyes shiny. I step down from the trailer, and each of the boys hops off after me. She blinks up at me, finally closing her pretty mouth and swallowing.
She looks incredible, as always. Her blond hair is up in a messy bun with a red bandana tied around it like a headband. She’s wearing a cropped white T-shirt that shows off her tanned stomach and the faint marks I still want to run my tongue over. Her jeans are so tight on her hips that they look like they could be painted on. She’s wearing minimal makeup, and I already know she smells like jasmine and a hint of vanilla. The gold hoops in her ears must be her favorite because she always has them on.
I’d give my left arm to hear her inner thoughts, hidden behind those emerald eyes. Her gaze scrapes over my sweatyabs one last time, but she doesn’t say a word before she turns away, trailing behind Rosie and Holden.
“Mama, did you see us helping? We’re cowboys now,” Dawson says.
I look down when I feel a tiny hand grab mine. Dutton has stepped up to walk beside me. He peers up with his mama’s big green eyes. Something squeezes in my chest.
