“Heard ya ate shit for lunch. How’d that taste?” Wilder howls in laughter before I get the chance to respond or flip him off.
“Jen was at your house last night, so why don’t you tell me?” I ask, lunging Millie in the corral before I take her into the training center.
“Nice one, sis!” Waylon gives me an air high five as he makes his way into the barn.
It only took a couple of hours for the news of my embarrassment to get around the ranch. Surprised it took that long, honestly. But two can play that game. Everyone knows Wilder has a hookup routine and no one likes Jen—for good reason—but that’s never stopped him.
The oldest boys of the family are the twins, Wilder and Waylon. There are six years between us, but you wouldn’t know it by how immature they act. Waylon is usually the reasonable one, but they still feed off each other and act like fools most of the time. They live in one of the duplexes at the ranch hand quarters where they throw parties almost every weekend. If they weren’t so good at guiding the trail horse rides and staying on top of their ranch duties, our parents would’ve already booted them, especially after the whole receptionist thing.
“Aren’t ya too old to be gettin’ flustered over a hot guy?” Wilder continues, stepping up on the fence post and giving me a better view of his smug-ass expression.
“Who said it was over a hot guy?”
“Ruby.”
Ugh, I’m gonna kill her.
“She was the flustered one,” I argue, then internally chastise myself for that stupid response. “What do you want anyway besides to annoy me?”
“I heard the hot guy is Jase’s dad?”
“He’s the farrier,” I drawl out. “No one said he was hot.”
I put on my best deadpan expression so he doesn’t see right through my lie.
“That mean your lover boy is gonna come ’round again?” he asks in a cruel, taunting voice. Wilder’s never been a fan of Jase for no other reason than he was my boyfriend.
Not like my playboy brother has room to talk. At twenty-eight, he’s dated most of Sugarland Creek’s eligible women and some of the not-so-single older women.
“What’re ya, twelve?” I glare at him, and he barks out a laugh. “We’re just friends. Don’t you have work to do?”
“I’m waitin’ on Landen to come with the hay trailer so we can stock up the loft.”
“Go wait somewhere else.”
He chuckles as he hops off the fence. I watch as he makes his way into the barn. He’s talking so loudly, I can hear him from all the way inside.
Thirty minutes later, Fisher tells me he’s ready for Shelby, so I walk her down and clip her into place. My mind hasn’t stopped thinking about him and the almost-kiss. Or at least, I could’ve sworn that was about to happen before I blurted out the real reason I ghosted him.
My brain says we need to stay away from each other. But my heart says fuck that.
We shared something I’ve never experienced that night. If it weren’t for the no fraternizing policy and him being Jase’s dad, there’d be no reason we couldn’t be together.
That alone makes me want him even more.
Even if the consequences could be life-changing.
Now that Miss Swift is back in her stall, I text Mallory to come over so she’s not anxious while Shelby’s gone. Since Mallory has only been around horses for a couple of years, we don’t let her ride alone. She helps with the grooming and getting the saddle on, but I’m always a few feet away when she’s on her back.
Landen arrives with the trailer, and when he and Tripp hop out, I know shit’s about to get rowdy.
It always does when all four boys are together.
“Hey, sis,” Landen says, coming toward me and making a show of sniffing me. “Thank God you showered. Heard you—”
“Shush your mouth before I push you in a pile of steamin’ horse shit.”
He snickers, elbowing my arm. “Been there, done that. No, thank you.”
“You gonna come help?” Tripp asks as he approaches.
I grab Miss Swift’s lead rope and enter her stall. “That’s not my job. I’m doin’ mine, so go do yours.”
Then I bring Mallory’s horse to the grooming station and clip her in so she’s ready. “You can grab me her saddle, though.”
“Nice try.” Tripp snorts. “Where are the twins?”
Looking up and down the center aisle, I don’t see any signs of them. “Hmm. They were in here a bit ago.”
It’s then I hear roars of laughter on the other end of the barn where Fisher’s working.
Oh shit.
“Found ’em,” Landen says, rushing toward the commotion.
“Goddammit.” I chase after Landen and Tripp, knowing they’ll add to the madness.
“What are y’all doin’?” I ask Wilder and Waylon when I find them hovering over Fisher, who’s working on Shelby’s hoof.
“Did ya know Jase’s dad used to be a famous bull rider?” Wilder asks with amusement.
“Yes.” I hold my stance, placing my hands on my hips as a pre-warning not to start anything. He already doesn’t like Jase. I don’t need him not liking Fisher, too.
“We’re gonna take him to the Twisted Bull on Friday so he can show us his skills on their mechanical bull.” Wilder’s shit-eating grin is covered in mischief, and I don’t like the sound of any of this.
There’s also a large dance floor where couples line dance. At times, it’s shoulder to shoulder with how many people are on it. The boys always get shit-faced and never fail to cause a scene.
“Wilder thinks he’ll be a pro by the end of the evening.” Waylon laughs.
“A pro at fallin’ on his ass,” Landen taunts, shaking his head.
Tripp smirks. “Should we start placin’ bets now? One Benny he lasts four seconds.”
“Four? I give it three before he face-plants the floor,” Waylon says.
“That’s a bad idea.” I interrupt their bets.
Landen says six seconds, and Tripp gives him five.
My gaze meets Fisher’s, and I mouth, “Sorry.”
The corner of his lips tilts up in an amused grin. He’s not even trying to get out of it.
“You should come, little sis.” Waylon nudges me when he catches me staring at Fisher. “Bring that little boyfriend of yours.”
Wilder shakes his head. “You can’t invite her on guys’ night. But she can be our DD.” He glances at me. “We’ll call ya when we’re done for the night.”
“You’re such an asshole.” I walk over and kick him in the shin. “I’ll be there to make sure you don’t embarrass our family in front of the whole town, aside from what you already have.”
“Pfft. Too late for that,” Tripp says. Wilder’s had his fair share of embarrassing moments.
“So whatcha say, Mr. Farrier? I’ll even buy your first round.” Wilder’s wide grin makes me want to sucker punch him in the gut.
“It’s Mr. Underwood,” I tell him, smacking his arm. “Be respectful, or Momma will have your ass.”
Wilder shoves me, so Waylon steps between us. “Okay, kids. No fightin’.”
Ayden walks over, scowling. “Y’all havin’ a family reunion out here? If not, quit botherin’ Mr. Underwood and go away.”
“Tell the boys that.” I scoff.
Usually, I’m the one scolding and separating the boys when they get too rowdy. But with Fisher around, I feel a sense of protectiveness, not wanting them to harass him. The last thing Fisher needs is to be stuck with my brothers in a bar with a mechanical bull and alcohol.
“Friday, ten o’clock!” Wilder shouts as Waylon pulls him away.
Fisher glances up, furrowing his brows. “At night?”
Landen and Tripp burst out laughing.
“Can ya handle it, old man?” Landen teases. “We work hard durin’ the day but play harder on the weekends.”
I roll my eyes at his cocky tone.
Fisher chuckles. “I’ll be askin’ y’all that by the end of the evenin’.”
The boys hoot and holler as Ayden escorts them back into the barn.
“You don’t have to go,” I tell Fisher when we’re finally alone. “My brothers are…insane. They will get wasted until they can’t walk, and you’ll be babysittin’ them.”
“I can handle a few rowdy boys. Been ’round them for most of my career. Hell, I was one.”
“But you aren’t anymore,” I remind him.
He shrugs, bringing his focus back to Shelby’s hoof. “No, but nothin’ I can’t handle. You worried ’bout me?”
“I worry about what they’ll say to you,” I answer honestly. “They aren’t the biggest fans of Jase.”
“Ah.”
“They wouldn’t like any guy I dated, so don’t take that personally.”
“That just means they love you.”
I snort-laugh. “You just saw how we are together. Trust me, that’s not why. They just like to annoy the shit outta me every chance they can. I could marry a literal saint, and they’d still manage to find somethin’ wrong with him.”
“I imagine that was fun growin’ up in the same house together.” He smirks, then drags his tool kit to Shelby’s back leg.
“Ha! My parents kicked the twins out when they turned twenty-one and put them in the ranch hand quarters. I moved into my cottage a couple years ago so Mallory could take my room since Gramma Grace took the twins’ room. Landen and Tripp still live there, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they move out soon, too.”
“Sounds like a full house.”
“It always is. Gramma Grace moved in four years ago after my grandpa passed. She and my momma are always cookin’ and bakin’ for the ranch hands. Don’t be surprised if my mom invites you for lunch or, rather, insists you come over. Sunday night is family supper where all five of us are required to be there, no exceptions. My brothers are usually still hungover from partyin’ the night before.”
“That’s what they’re supposed to do in their twenties. Then in their thirties they’ll pay for it with achy knees and heartburn.”
I bellow out a laugh at the image. “They’ve been workin’ on the ranch for most of their lives. I’m still surprised none have broken their necks yet. They used to jump off the barn roof onto a trampoline with the rest of them waitin’ to counter-jump them so they’d go flyin’.”
“Christ.” He shakes his head with a laugh. “Surprised your mom hasn’t had a heart attack raisin’ them.”
“Me too.”
I watch as Fisher goes through the motions of cleaning Shelby’s hoof when Mallory shows up with Serena Mae—Ayden’s daughter, who’s two years younger than Mallory. Momma waves goodbye as the girls run toward me.
They each wrap their arms around me, and I smile. “Miss Swift’s waitin’ in the groomin’ stall for y’all. I’ll meet you there in a sec.”
When Mallory first moved here, she fell in love with the quarter horse and promptly named her after her favorite singer. No one could deny her whatever she wanted after the death of her parents, so I trained her and taught Mallory how to ride.
Once they’re out of earshot, I step closer toward Fisher. “I’m gonna text Jase and find out why he didn’t tell me you moved here.”
“Be prepared for the honest truth,” he warns.
“Everyone deserves a second chance, Fisher.”
“We met for breakfast this mornin’, and he barely spoke to me. He didn’t mind chattin’ when it came to him helpin’ me buy my house, but now it’s like pullin’ teeth to get more than a few words outta him.”
“He’ll come around,” I say, attempting to sound reassuring, even though I’m not sure if it’s true.
Jase didn’t speak of his father much, so I only know the bits and pieces he shared every now and then.
“Whether or not he does, I’m not goin’ anywhere.” He meets my gaze, a silent promise that he’s here to stay regardless. “That goes for you too, Noah. I know the circumstances make it impossible for us to be anythin’ more than employees or friends, but I’m here for whatever ya need.”
My heart flutters, and God, do I wish things were different. I wish I wasn’t standing here with a man I wanted and fighting the urge to kiss him. The attraction we shared from the start is still there, and it’s no secret Fisher feels the same.
We’re so screwed.
