"You're going to last about four days, sweetheart."
two
. . .
BROCK
"I've lasted longer with worse," she shot back.
She was gonna be a pain in my ass, I could already tell. Standing there in her ruined little heels, glaring at me like she wasn’t the least bit intimidated.
I shook my head, stepped back into the round pen, and caught Rio’s lead rope. The colt had been doing fine until her car rolled up, and now he was restless again. I ran a hand down the rope and brought him back in line. He blew hard through his nostrils but listened.
Behind me, suitcase wheels rattled over gravel. Then came a sharp little hiss and a muttered “Fuck” that sounded way too natural from somebody dressed like her.
“House is unlocked,” I called over my shoulder. “Somebody’ll come greet you eventually.”
She scoffed. Her heels clicked up the porch steps, then stopped. I turned just enough to see her standing there, her brown hair whipping across her mouth in the wind. She didn’t bother pushing the strand away.
That mouth looked like it had gotten her out of plenty of trouble back wherever she came from. Not here.
"You know," she said, her voice carrying clear across the yard, "you've looked at my shoes three times since I got out of the car."
I looped the rope once around my hand. "Have I."
"If you've got something to say about how I'm dressed, go ahead and say it."
I shrugged. "You showed up to a working ranch in heels and a dress. Don’t need to say much."
“I was told I was going to a hotel. The plan changed an hour ago. And what I’m wearing has nothing to do with how well I do my job.”
I turned back to Rio. “Well, believe me, sweetheart, I’m not any more thrilled about this than you are.”
“It’s Sienna.”
"What?"
“My name. Sienna Starling. Not sweetheart.”
I ran my tongue along the inside of my cheek, fighting a grin I didn’t want to give her. “Noted.”
“Look. I know this isn’t ideal for either of us. But I’m here to help you, Mr. Wilder, so if we can?—”
I laughed. Couldn’t stop it if I tried.
She went still. “Something funny?”
“You called me Mr. Wilder. Hell, nobody’s called me that in my life, darlin’.”
“No one’s ever called me darling.”
I lifted my brows. "Thought I said Starlin’. Sounds the same to me."
Her eyes narrowed like she knew what game I was playing, but couldn’t call me on it. Good. Let her stew a little.
“If you’re staying in my house, it’s Brock.”
“Okay,Brock.” She said it like my name tasted sour. “Is there a time tonight we can sit down and go over the plan?”
