Chapter 10
Finn
G lancing at the clock above my dresser, I curse under my breath as I fasten the belt around my waist. I don’t know how it happened, but I woke up late. My alarm didn’t go off for whatever reason, and now I’m running behind, which usually wouldn’t be that big of a deal since I literally work on this ranch, but Hollis and I are taking a bunch of cattle to auction today. It’s an hour drive to the facility, so we have to hit the road by eight. It’s nearly seven-fifteen, and we still have to load everything up.
After I grab the Stetson off my dresser and place it on my head, I meander out of the room, down the hall, and into the kitchen. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee fills my nostrils, meaning Ash is already awake and I can pour myself a cup of joe on my way out the door. He doesn’t drink coffee, I don’t think, but he’s started turning on a pot when he gets up so I don’t have to. It’s nice, but another thing he doesn’t have to do.
I’ve noticed he’s an early riser. Just about as early as me, but I don’t understand why. Tucker isn’t up until nine most mornings, but Ash is usually already up by the time I emerge from my room. It’s been a little over two weeks since he moved in, and things are going well. Tucker really seems to enjoy having him around. They get along, he listens to Ash, and he always has some new activity to tell me about when I get home. Cassie was a great nanny; I never really had any complaints, but the amount of stuff Ash does with Tucker exceeds anything she ever did. They also frequently hang out by the creek, having a picnic and skipping rocks.
Ash sends me pictures all throughout the day, which I secretly love. With the hours I keep, it can be hard being away from Tuck every day. It feels like I’m missing out on so much, like he’s growing up without me. So, getting the pictures and occasional videos is a part of my day I’ve started looking forward to.
I’m finishing filling up the Styrofoam to-go cup and putting the lid on as Ash rounds the corner, footsteps halting when he looks over at me. My mouth dries as I take him in. Wearing a pair of plaid pajama pants slung low on his hips and nothing else, the memory of finding him doing yoga on the front lawn a couple of weeks ago hits me front and center. Except, that time, he was wasn’t wearing pants. No, he was wearing the tightest pair of black shorts I’ve ever seen a man wear.
Not that I was looking.
“Oh, hey,” he murmurs, running his fingers through the messy strands atop his head. “I thought you would’ve been gone by now.”
Swallowing thickly and doing my best to shove the memory out of my mind, I say, “I should’ve been, but my alarm never went off.”
“Oh, shit. That’s no good.”
As he stretches his arms over his head, something catches my gaze on his chest. My heart thumps when I notice what it is. Nipple rings. Silver glinting as the light hits them, I realize he has two barbells shoved through the rose-colored buds.
I quickly avert my gaze, hoping like hell he didn’t see me staring. My skin tingles and my pulse races, both responses I don’t understand in the slightest. So what? He has his nipples pierced… Big deal. He also has his nose pierced, but I don’t feel weird noticing that. These are no different.
Walking farther into the kitchen, Ash opens the fridge, pulling something out before handing it to me. “Here you go.”
My gaze looks from the gray and dark blue lunch box in his hands up to his face, his mismatched eyes watching me already, a smile tugged crookedly on his lips. “What’s this?”
“Packed you a lunch,” he replies with a shrug.
I cock a brow, continuing to stare at him, not taking the bag he’s offering me. “Why?”
“Because I’ve noticed the most you take with you when you leave in the morning is a protein bar and maybe a bottle of water.” He breathes out a laugh. “You’re working in the sun all day, Finn. You need to nourish your body with more than a protein bar and minimal water.”
Something about the way he says “nourish my body” has a shiver racing down my spine. I don’t like it.
Finally taking the lunch box, I say, “You really didn’t need to do this.”
“It’s no big deal,” he murmurs, resting his hip against the counter as he crosses his arms over his chest. “Besides, Tucker had fun helping me make and pack everything. A labor of love, if you will.”
I bite down on my molars, feeling flustered all of the sudden. Nobody has ever packed me a lunch before, and I don’t know how I feel about it. This isn’t part of Ash’s job description.
Neither is making dinner for us, or brewing me coffee in the morning.
Why does he keep doing additional tasks that aren’t expected of him?
Fuck, I don’t have time to figure it out now, or talk to him about how he needs to knock it off, because I’m already running way later than I should be. So, instead, I tip my hat at him.
“Thank you.”
“No problem.” His grin annoys me. It’s bright and cheerful and oddly nice to look at. He has nice teeth, straight and white, like maybe he had braces when he was a kid. “See you later.”
By some miracle, with the help of August and Dad, Hollis and I are able to get everyone loaded into the trailer in record time. With my brother behind the wheel, we hit the road only ten minutes later than we anticipated.
Arriving at the facility, Hollis backs up to the unloading door of the barn, and we hop out. While he handles the unloading, I head inside and start registration. Over the years, we’ve done this process so many times, we could probably do it in our sleep.
After we get ’em tagged and checked out by the on-site vet, they go into the holding pen. From there, it’s a waiting game. Depending on how large the auction is—which, considering how crowded it is in here already, I’d say it’s going to be a large turnout—it could be hours until ours end up in the auction ring.
“What’s up with you this morning?” Hollis asks as we find our way to the sitting area near the ring.
“Nothin’ is up with me.”
My brother huffs out a laugh. “You seem grumpier than usual. Somethin’s up.”
I shrug and offer a half truth. “Woke up late.”
“How’s it goin’ with the manny?”
Turning my scowl to him, I grumble, “I hate when you call him that.”
“Why?” A grin splits his face. “That’s literally what he is. Your male nanny.”
“Since when is nanny a gender specific word? Nannies can be both male and female, Hollis.”
Whistling to himself, he says, “Someone is touchy today.” Then, after a second, he adds, “He’s pretty hot, though.”
“What?” I hiss, narrowing my gaze.
Hollis holds his hands up oh-so innocently as he chuckles. “I’m just tellin’ it like it is. Your nanny is easy on the eyes, brother.”
I blink at my brother, not even sure what I’m supposed to say to that. Right after graduation, Hollis came out to the family as bi-sexual, so it’s not the fact that he’s attracted to men that takes me by surprise. It’s the fact that he’s attracted to Ash , specifically, and something about that grates on my nerves. The same way it did when I caught him fucking winking at Ash that first Wednesday dinner at my dad’s place.
“You’re not fuckin’ my nanny,” I mutter. Shaking my head, I look ahead at the livestock filling in the auction ring.
Hollis throws his head back, laughing. “Why not?” he asks obtusely. “Could be fun. You get one twin, I get the other.”
My nostrils flare on a harsh exhale as I fight the urge to deck my brother square in the nose. Something I haven’t done in years, but fuck, he’s testing me today.
“You’re an idiot,” I scoff.
“What’s the big deal?” There’s humor in his tone, and I can’t tell if he’s just saying this to get a rise out of me, or if he actually wants to fuck my nanny.
“Unlike you, who has zero responsibilities outside of the ranch, I have a whole ass child to take care of, and part of taking care of him is making sure he has proper care while I’m working, dipshit. You’re not fuckin’ up this situation for Tucker. He gets along really well with Ash. That’s the big deal.”
Talking about Ash does nothing but remind me of the lunch he packed for me that’s sitting in the truck. Why is the fact that he did that bugging me so much? Maybe the same reason everything else he does bugs me. Whatever that reason may be.
I should be thanking him because he’s right; I hardly ever remember to pack a lunch when I leave in the mornings. In fact, most days, the first real meal I have isn’t until I finish up and go home for dinner.
He’s just so…thoughtful, and I don’t know how to deal with that.
And then, for some reason, unbeknownst to me, my mind suddenly goes to the silver I spotted in his nipples. Why the fuck am I thinking about my nanny’s nipples? Why is that one little tidbit of information stuck in my head on repeat? The metal stood out against the dusky pink shade of his nipples. His chest and abdomen are smooth, save for the light dusting of dark hair under his navel that leads down into his pants.
Pants that were slung real low on his hips this morning. He’s got a real tight body; clearly the yoga is paying off.
As soon as that thought crosses my mind, I freeze. He’s got a tight body? What the fuck? Why the fuck am I thinking about Ash’s pants? Or his happy trail? Or his body at all? What the fuck is wrong with me lately?
It’s another four hours before our cattle make it into the ring, but once they’re in, everything moves quickly. By the time we’re heading out to the truck, my stomach is grumbling, and suddenly, I’m thankful for the packed lunch. Sure, Hollis and I could stop and get something on the way back to the ranch, but I’d rather not make unnecessary stops. We’re already bound to hit traffic with all the construction happening on the highway from here to Wolf Creek.
Climbing into the passenger seat, I reach into the back and grab the lunch box, unzipping it as Hollis starts the engine.
“You brought a lunch?” he asks quizzically.
“Ash and Tucker packed it for me, I guess.”
“He’s hot and he packs you a lunch?” Hollis teases. Gritting my teeth, I choose to ignore him.
Flipping open the top, I find a white piece of paper folded over once sitting on top of the food. I pluck it out, opening it, and my chest squeezes when I see Tucker’s messy, wobbly handwriting scrawled on the sheet.
I love you, Daddy! Hope you have a great day at work.
Love,
Tucker and Ash and Bubba
I smile as I show my brother the note.
“Aww, that’s sweet,” Hollis replies. “Maybe I need to have a kid so I can have sweet notes in my lunch.”
Chuckling and rolling my eyes, I say, “Not exactly a reason to have a kid, but alright.”
Obviously, Ash helped him with it because everything is spelled correctly, but I can’t help imagining my son sitting at the dining room table with a pencil in his tiny grip, writing this for me, knowing I’m going to see it while I’m at work. Was it Tucker’s idea? Or was it Ash’s? And why does the latter make my heart race a little faster?
What the fuck is going on with me today?
And as if he knows I’m thinking about him, my phone vibrates with a notification from him.
Ash: MAJOR NEWS!
Ash: Your son successfully skipped a rock down at the creek today.
Me: Really? He’s been trying to master that for months. That’s amazing.
Ash: As soon as we got home, he asked me to send you the video I took.
I click on the thumbnail that comes through, smiling down at my phone as I watch my boy skip the rock, then squeal and jump up and down. The video shakes, and I imagine Ash jumping up and down too, matching Tucker’s excitement. A grin tugs on my lips before another text comes through.
Ash: He’s mighty proud of himself, and so am I.
“Why’re you smilin’ down at your phone like an idiot?” Hollis asks, pulling my attention. Shifting the screen, I press play on the video again so he can watch his nephew too. “Hell yeah! Knew he’d get that soon.”
I replay it for a third time, both of us watching again before I get back to my food.
“Give me somethin’,” my brother demands, holding out his hand. “I’m fuckin’ starvin’.”
“Pack your own lunch,” I grumble teasingly.
“All the more reason to fuck your nanny.”
Turning my head, my eyes narrow on my brother as Hollis watches the road ahead of us with a shit-eating grin on his face.
“Now, you’re definitely not gettin’ any of my lunch, dipshit.”
He barks out a laugh and snatches the red apple from the bag before I can stop him. Taking a large bite, he flicks his gaze over to me, a chuckle rumbling in his chest.
“Fucker.”