Chapter 3
TANNER
Confession: A certain vet had been on my mind a lot lately. Maybe too much.
I’d called Axel after he’d sent the paper work on the herd with a dozen nit-picky questions that had garnered nothing more than a series of grunts. And you know what? It had turned me the fuck on.
Not joking.
I’d sat in my office at my desk, rubbing my cock with the heel of my palm over rough denim as if I’d been lying in bed watching porn on my laptop.
Anyone could have walked in, which would have been seriously mortifying.
Of course I hadn’t whipped my dick out, but I’d replayed the sound of those wicked grunts while jerking off in the shower that night.
And the next.
Christ, I needed to get laid.
I was out of sorts and not quite thinking straight. Which might explain why I’d accepted an invitation to dinner with my ex.
That was a mistake.
Rich and I sat at a candlelit table for two at a nice steak house, muddling our way through casual conversation.
The second we were left alone with a basket of warm bread, salted butter, and leather-clad menus, I knew this was a bad idea.
But as Rich had pointed out, we lived a town away and ran in the same circles. Hell, he worked for Oak Ridge Winery.
Hiring a college acquaintance had been one thing, but sleeping with him? Not my brightest move. To be fair, Santiago was his direct boss. Still…it was complicated.
According to Rich, it didn’t have to be. We could be friends. And friends occasionally dined together.
But then…
“What if we were friends…with benefits?”
I almost spit out my wine. The cute brunet with freckles and a shy smile wasn’t the type to offer X-rated suggestions, and I honestly didn’t know what to say.
“I…uh.” I wiped my mouth and blinked like an owl. “You want us to…have…sex?”
Rich winced, slouching in his chair. “Nope. Never mind. That was embarrassing.”
“No, no. It’s—I’m just surprised,” I fumbled.
“I know. Sorry. Let’s drop it.” He lifted the menu to hide his face.
“Rich…” I waited for him to lower the menu to continue. “We can’t do that.”
“Are you seeing someone?”
“No, that’s not it.” I ran my thumb through the condensation on my water glass and hoped I wouldn’t get this wrong. “I think…I think we made the right choice.”
He bit his lip so hard, his jaw trembled. “Really? ’Cause I think I blew it. I wish I hadn’t pushed you or made demands or—”
“Hey. Don’t do that.” I reached across the table and squeezed Rich’s hand. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Then think about it,” he said, pulling away, his gaze glued to the menu. “Did you see that our Pinot is listed as the pick of the week? They’ve even included pairing suggestions. ‘Goes well with the tenderloin, filet mignon, and…’ ”
I tuned him out, my mind reeling.
And a few days later, I was still spinning.
I was restless, too. My brain wandered to places it had no business going, and I couldn’t refocus. But I wasn’t thinking about Rich. At least not in terms of rekindling a physical relationship.
No…I was thinking about Axel, and the job I’d planned to offer him, wondering if I’d developed a strange habit of shitting where I ate.
Look, I should never have gotten involved with an employee in the first place.
Sure, Rich and I’d known each other in college, but once we’d become romantically involved, I should have been better about boundaries.
I supposed I’d gotten caught up in a vision of recreating what my parents had once had.
Unfortunately, the spark had been lacking or our timing had been off or… something.
Rich had pointed it out, and somehow thought the solution was marriage. I’d disagreed and we’d parted ways. A year had passed, and I’d thought we’d navigated the breakup as well as could be expected. But now…it felt as if we were back at square one.
Or…
Could it really be just sex?
No.
No way. It was never “just sex.”
And jerking off to naughty thoughts about an ornery stranger I’d probably never see again was equally futile.
I was an idiot, and no doubt my friends would agree. Not that I’d tell anyone.
I saved my philosophical musing for the goats.
The barn echoed with the sound of bleating goats climbing bales of hay or butting horns. I homed in on the newborn kids huddled near their watchful mama while Steve the potbellied pig lurked in the corner, half-asleep and seemingly lost.
Nelly caught my gaze from her straw bed and wordlessly beckoned me with the slightest bend of her neck. I loved animals, but goats ranked in my top three for sure. They were smart, playful, and funny enough, they were excellent communicators. And they were bossy, too.
Not that I minded. Nel and I had something like a symbiotic relationship.
She’d taken a shine to me from the day she was born.
She used to follow me home and wander around the kitchen, begging for food scraps.
Occasionally, she’d hop onto a chair and yap away like a child riding a wicked sugar high.
These days, Nelly had bigger concerns. She was the proud new mama of twins, a boy and a girl.
The kids were a week old now, and they were doing well.
Thankfully, the birth had gone without a hitch.
Hudson and I had handled it while Jax, Waylen, and our staff had dealt with the new herd.
I probably should have helped with the cattle, but Nelly was my girl, and my partners and our team were more than qualified to welcome the new animals.
Don’t get me wrong. It had still been a fuckton of work.
Each cow had to be processed, and records had to be created.
It wasn’t difficult, but it was arduous and we’d needed every hand on deck.
In an amusing twist, we’d recruited a few people from the winery and two waiters from the restaurant at the lodge with farming experience to help.
Yes, Oak Ridge Ranch had a winery and a lodge with spa service, elegant dining, and five-star accommodations. We were also a working dairy and agricultural farm. Pretty sweet, huh?
None of that had happened overnight. We’d more than quadrupled in size since I’d opened a tiny dairy operation with my brother, Jax, fifteen years ago—shortly after I’d graduated with a degree in agriculture and animal husbandry.
Jax and I had grown up on a thriving strawberry farm in Kern County that had been in the family for generations.
Fruit had always been a Spade family tradition—harvesting, preserving, and selling it.
We’d picked berries as kids and spent our spare time in high school working the fields with the hired crew in between football practice and studying for exams.
That farm was long gone now. Bad business decisions, drought, and a recession—ultimately too many hits.
Dad had been forced to sell a portion of the business to stay afloat, then another portion, and another…
until there was nothing left. Dad had died of a heart attack five months after the last deed was signed to the bank, and Mom had passed away two years later.
Losing our parents and a piece of our heritage had been the driving force behind Oak Ridge.
Jax and I had switched from berries to milk, and with some savvy investments had turned a small farm with three Jerseys, a field of lettuce, and a few pistachio trees into a large, diversified, and well-respected working ranch.
Our name and single oak tree logo were a nationwide symbol of quality.
Oak Ridge sold produce, cow’s milk, and goat cheese throughout the country; operated a luxury dude ranch catering to wealthy clients who wanted to play cowboy for a week; and a couple of years ago, we opened the winery and began selling the Pinot Noir we’d been harvesting and bottling for over a decade.
It was a lot, and it required constant care, grit, determination, and excellent management.
Jax handled finance and marketing, Waylen was dairy operations and sales, Mills headed the vacation destination program, Santiago ran the winery, and Hudson and I were in charge of the livestock.
As CEO, I had my nose in everything, but we had a large, competent staff and I didn’t hesitate to delegate as needed.
However, cows, bulls, horses, pigs, chickens, and yes, goats were my daily companions. It might not be glamorous work, but I loved it. For the kid who used to sleep in cowboy boots, it was a dream come true.
Okay, so dairy farming wasn’t really a cowboy thing, but it was cowboy adjacent. Close enough for me.
See, I’d always been a fan of the cowboy mystique. A stoic tough guy on a valiant steed riding into the sunset with a cool hat, dusty boots, and a belt buckle the size of a dinner plate? Yeah, sign me up. And if they were big and a little mean-looking like the grumpy vet, even better.
Damn it!
See? I had a problem.
“Maaa.”
I chuckled at the well-timed interruption and crouched to pat Nelly’s head. “How are you this morning, sweet girl? Did your babies keep you up all night?”
Nelly nuzzled each kid in response. They were both brown, spotted, and super fluffy…like adorable stuffed animals.
“Hey, Tanner. I thought I might find you here.” Janey, one of our college student assistants sailed into the barn, her long black hair swept into an untidy bun.
“Just checking on the princess and her babes.”
Janey squealed. “Could they be any cuter? OMG! What are we going to name them? Hudson says he’s giving you till tomorrow before he lets Moody do the honors. And since Moody’s already gearing up for the holidays at his bookstore, I hope you don’t mind Rudolph, Blitzen, Comet—”
“All right, all right. Message received. I’ll give it some thought,” I promised as I straightened, towering over the petite woman by a solid foot. “Did you need something?”
“Yes, you have a visitor.”
“Who?”
“The new vet.” Janey widened her eyes expressively. “By the way, he’s enormous. Like part giant or something. I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to send him out here.”
I frowned. Axel was here? Now?