9. Kit
9
KIT
“Kit! I can’t believe you bought all this gear!” Sadie chided. “You’ve already given me so much, with this job and a place to stay. It’s too much!”
Sadie’s fourteen-year-old son Jaxon was massive, nearly half a foot taller than me, and he’d been tapped to play on the local middle school football team. The high school football coach was a friend, and I knew he had plans for Jaxon next year which did not include the freshman—or junior varsity—teams.
I shook my head, deeply disagreeing with her. “No. It’s not too much. I know exactly how expensive gear is, and I know you’re still financially recovering from everything, and I don’t want our team’s best tight end running around with secondhand gear.”
Sadie came to us when she was in a tight spot. Despite all the things happening in her life, she’d quickly become one of my most valued and trusted employees, and I liked to take care of my people. She was gonna hafta get used to it.
She and Lane were a pretty serious item, and even though she hadn’t yet announced it, I was pretty sure her switch to decaf coffee heralded even more changes in her life.
“There is no shame in secondhand gear,” she insisted, her cheeks going a little red. “And it’s just middle school football.”
“I agree, there is no shame in that. There is, however, a higher incidence of failure in used equipment, and it very much would be a shame to cut short a potentially lucrative career due to faulty equipment.” I held up my hand before she could come back with anything else. “Besides, I’m being selfish. I don’t want one of my best hands getting hurt if it can be avoided.”
Jaxon was tireless on the ranch, sweet with our young guests, great with the horses, respectful of my son, and never once complained about shoveling horse shit after a long school day filled with academics and football practice. Honestly, some of the adults in my employ could take their cues from his work ethic.
It was his drive as much as his physicality that made me think he had a bright future ahead of him, regardless of what he ended up doing with football.
She narrowed her eyes at me and put both of her hands on her hips.
Uh oh.
“Fine. Buy his football gear if you insist. But only if you let me do my damned job.”
Now, Sadie didn’t curse all that much, but the combination of her hands on her hips and the cursing all pointed to the fact that she meant business. She also may have been referring to the slight issue I’d caused last week with her carefully curated accounting system.
“All I did was pay for the contractor’s dinner because he’d come out on a Sunday night.”
“And did you put it in the software the way you should’ve?”
“No.”
“Did you properly code it for tax purposes?”
“No.”
“Did you leave me a note asking me to go back and add the expense for you?”
“No.”
“So that meant I only saw it after reviewing the books, which meant I thought I’d made a mistake, and it took me over an hour to identify you as the problem. Whereas, had you simply let me do my job, it would’ve been accomplished in about two minutes.”
She raised her brow at me, and I felt duly chastised.
“Message received.”
Her stern expression melted into a smile. I knew that meant a hug was coming, and I stifled the urge to step back. Instead, I braced and returned the sweet gesture.
“You’ve changed my life, Kit,” she said softly. “You’ve changed my son’s life. Please, just let me do the job you hired me to do.”
This was not the third or even the seventeenth time she’d made this plea, but . . . she was right. I made it harder for my employees when I tried to do their jobs for them. Lane, as my land manager, had similar complaints. Thankfully, he wasn’t here to double team me.
As she drew back from the hug, her eyes widened. “Oh! Skylar’s here! And I love his new car!”
Even though Skylar and I texted about his business fairly regularly, it’d been almost a month since he’d been by, and both Sadie and Lane had wondered aloud when he was coming back to work on my knee. Guess they’d been a bit more observant than I’d realized.
Worse, I had to school my expression so Sadie couldn’t see how excited and . . . relieved? I felt seeing him again. I turned as Sky drove up in his pretty Bronco, stopping right in front of us under the porte cochere.
He hopped out and the first thing I noticed, aside from the fact that he was wearing scrubs, was that he wasn’t wearing any makeup, and his nails were short and unpolished. He looked so young and fresh-faced, the only evidence of makeup a bit of shine on his full lips.
He must’ve seen something in my expression, because he covered his face. “I know, I’m hideous. No makeup, no nails. I just don’t want to be shot by some homophobic cowboy.”
“Skylar, you could never be hideous,” I said, readily stepping into his effusive hug. I surreptitiously inhaled his scent. “And a lot of folks out here are more progressive than you’d think.”
“That’s kinda what I was hoping.”
Remembering the text thread from a few days ago, I gestured at the Bronco and asked, “Did you come up with a name for her?”
“I sure did! Betsy!”
“I like it,” I said, hugging him again. “It fits you perfectly.”
His cheeks went pink. “Thanks.”
“So, are you out here to check on my knee again?”
He shook his head, his smile widening. “Guess what I’m doing this morning?”
“Assisting with a surgery?” I plucked at his scrubs.
He chuckled. “Nope. I’m about to see my very first client.”
“Already?” I asked, confused. He hadn’t even worked out the name of his business yet. “How is that possible?”
“You know how much Dr. Kleinfeld loved the idea, and she didn’t hesitate to sponsor me. Then you and I went over my big list of things, which wasn’t so big after all. Plus, Dr. Kleinfeld actually knew a few people out here already and reached out to them. The guy I’m seeing this afternoon has been especially stubborn about an issue with his elbow, but she got him to agree to have me come by.”
“Wow,” I said, trying to shove down the nerves I felt for him. “That’s amazing. I’m glad your managing doctor’s being so supportive.”
I was also grateful he’d toned down his look, but I didn’t say that out loud. I was—secretly—worried about how some of the more conservative folks out here would treat him.
“Then I told her about your knee, and she said she can’t believe you haven’t gotten any imaging yet.”
Sadie snorted behind me, and I turned around and narrowed my eyes at her.
She only laughed harder. “Good luck getting him in to get that knee looked at.” She pursed her lips at me, like I was some sort of lost cause. “He is the most stubborn man I’ve ever met in my entire life.”
Sky lifted a shoulder, then thumbed a gesture in my direction. “Oh, this sexy rock is about to hit a hard place. I’ve already got him scheduled for an MRI Thursday after next.”
“You what ?” I protested automatically. “I can’t go then. I’m booked solid?—”
“No, you aren’t,” Sadie countered, pulling her phone from her back pocket. “I know you have a hard time remembering that I am, in fact, your office manager.”
“Sadie—”
She held up one hand, furiously thumbing through her phone with the other. “I’ll remind you by rescheduling your appointments so you can get the care you need.”
“Sadie—”
Her phone dinged. “Oh, look. Martin said no problem .”
I pushed my tongue against my inside cheek and narrowed my eyes at Skylar, even though I was the farthest thing from annoyed.
“So. You’re just gonna collude with my employees now?” I said, distracted by his lush, dark eyelashes.
What human had lashes that pretty? I mean, no wonder all those sugar daddies were so eager to snap him up. Those lashes —plus the sheer wattage of his smile—could bring a man to his knees.
Which . . . huh.
That made for quite an interesting visual, now that I thought about it.
Still, I snarled, remembering the way Sky talked about his usual type. I seriously doubted they’d bothered focusing on his pleasure. I mean, I’d never been with a man, obviously, but even to me that felt patently unfair.
Sky, of all people, deserved to be worshipped in whatever way he liked. Especially if he happened to be wearing one of those gauzy robes. Like that peignoir he showed me.
I mean, it was really something, the way his body looked in such a feminine piece. The squareness of his jaw with the curl of his lashes. The strength of his slight build with the smooth skin, like he’d waxed right before taking the picture.
The way his eyes promised something so lush and sinful, only a monk could refuse him.
I took off my hat, running my fingers through my hair as I held it in front of me. What the actual fuck was my dick doing, I had no clue. Focus, Baker.
“Whatever gets the job done,” Sky said, delicately chewing on his thumbnail.
Hell, even in scrubs, he was drop-to-your-knees gorgeous.
“Did I lose you, cowboy?”
I blinked, suddenly breathless. “Uh, what?”
“I said —” He paused, hip-checking me, “I’ll absolutely collude with your employees to make sure you don’t fall apart on us. Even if it involves assisting you in removing your head from your ass.”
I dipped my head, resetting my hat to cover my smile. “Is removing a head from someone’s ass even within the scope of an orthopedic nurse practitioner’s duties?”
“Directly in scope,” he said with a sexy little shoulder shimmy. “I have plenty of practice performing that particular maneuver, and I am more than happy to help you out.”
Sadie huffed out another laugh and Skylar paused his roast of my stubbornness to give her a big hug. I scowled at both of them, even as my heart sped up.
“You can mean mug me all you want, cowboy, but I set it for that Thursday because that is when I scheduled my monthly check with Dr. Kleinfeld. As it happens, the imaging clinic is right next-door.”
“As it happens, huh?” I asked, lingering on his lips.
“Yep,” he insisted, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
Seriously, who were these idiots who didn’t know what they had with him? If he were mine, the only way I’d ever leave him would be in a body bag. You know, like if I swung that way. Obviously despite my drunken idiocy from last month and today’s mental wanderings—which I chalked up to the fact that I’d never seen him bare faced—I . . . what was I saying?
Oh. Yeah. I didn’t swing that way. Despite whatever my body was doing, I was one hundred percent not into—I bit the inside of my cheek, remembering I had a conversation I was trying to follow.
Right. The MRI he’s forcing you to do.
“You’re gonna drive me out there to make sure I don’t cancel, aren’t you?” I asked, proud of myself for coming up with a complete sentence.
He circled to the back of his Bronco and swung open the door, then leaned over, looking for something.
Huh. For such a lithe body, he had a surprisingly bitable ass. Not that I wanted to bite his ass. Put that same ass on a woman and . . . fuck. I’d make a meal of it.
I wiped my mouth, distracted when his scrub top hitched up, revealing the smooth, lightly tanned skin on his back. I had a pretty good farmer’s tan going, so I wondered how his was so even. All over, it seemed. My imagination helpfully fired up an image of him suntanning nude by Kess and Rowdy’s pool, that cute peach of an ass browning under the sun’s strong rays.
I’d probably feel uncomfortable about walking up on him like that, but I’d bet he’d wiggle his ass at me while shooting a flirty look over his shoulder.
“Make a meal of me, cowboy. I won’t tell anyone.”
The slamming of the back door brought me back to reality—thank God. Sky walked up to the front passenger side and slapped a magnetic sign to the exterior while I tried to wrangle my thoughts.
“Forcing stubborn men to go get their imaging done is just one of the many services I offer at Central Texas Mobile Ortho,” he said, patting his company name.
Huh. Guess he figured out the name all on his own.
Which made sense since he was taking me to get my knee looked at. Which I was fighting for some reason.
He looked at me expectantly, like he was waiting for one of my usual grouchy comments. Lost for words, I focused on his sign. Whoever had done the logo work knew what they were doing. It looked legit, and it coordinated perfectly with his Bronco’s sky blue paint.
I couldn’t help but smile. “This is some nice work,” I said, brushing by him to run my thumb along the edge, testing the strength of the magnet. “You got it done fast.”
“Eh.” He shrugged in that elegant, unconcerned way of his. “Sugar baby friend of mine in town owed me a favor.”
My stomach tightened. Did he sleep with the other sugar babies? Or were they really just friends?
Not that I should care.
Before I could reply, a digital British voice asked, “Dad, can I eat breakfast at your house? Mom and Brandy are out running errands.”
Reed’s presence was a necessary cold bucket of water on my feral imagination, and I turned to face him, grateful for something to focus on. Reed was hanging out in the entrance of the main office, and I waved him over.
“Of course, son.” I gestured to Sky. “Reed, this is Skylar Whitmore. He’s been the one helping me with my knee.”
“Hi, Reed. Nice to meet you in person this time,” Sky said, sending him a wave instead of putting out his hand to shake it. Reed had a note on his social media about generally not enjoying physical contact, but people still got it wrong.
Sky, however, was not most people. He was all about the details. Even in plain clothes, his scrubs were impeccably ironed, his shoes were spotless, and he smelled fantastic. Of course, he’d know how to greet my son.
Speaking of, Reed bent over his iPad, typing quickly. “No makeup.”
Skylar grinned. “I wear makeup for social media and around friends. I decided to leave the false lashes at home when I’m in a medical setting, though.”
More typing. “Are you going to make my dad get his knee scanned?”
“Already on the books for two weeks from now. Don’t let him weasel out of it.”
Reed straightened and sent Skylar a salute before returning to his iPad. “I’m on it.”
“Thanks. By the way, I’m digging the British accent.”
Reed broadened his shoulders and grinned as he typed. “Thank you. It represents my soul.”
Reed silently chuffed at his dramatic words, and Skylar laughed along with him.
“I’m glad this set up works for you,” Sky said, pointing out Reed’s iPad grip. “Your wrist still get sore at the end of the day?”
Reed tilted his hand from side to side.
“Can I show you something?” Skylar asked.
Reed responded with a fast, off-kilter nod.
“I’ll need to touch you, so you’ll want to give your iPad over to your dad for a second.”
Reed nodded again, and I accepted the iPad from him as Skylar approached him.
“I shared this with your dad the first time I met him, and I’ll share it with you. See these big muscles in your arm?” he asked, pointing out the muscles in his own arm.
More nodding.
“A lot of times if you can release the bigger muscles, it releases the pressure on the joint. So, if you’re using good posture all day long and you still get a little sore, that’s okay. Massage these big muscles like this,” he said, demonstrating the move with efficient strokes, “and most of the time it will reduce the pressure enough that you might not even need a pain reliever.”
Thank you , Reed signed.
You’re welcome , Sky signed back.
You know sign language?
A little. Dad say you use it. I learn few words. “Just in case,” Skylar supplemented his rudimentary signs.
Reed flushed and held his hand out for his iPad. I returned it to him and he typed out a message. “I’m going inside now. Do you want me to take out the eggs and bacon, Dad?”
“Sure, son. That’d be great.”
Reed then took off toward the house, turning back to send Skylar a shy wave.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him warm up to someone so quickly,” Sadie said, heading back into the office.
“Me either, Sadie. Give Jaxon a hug for me.”
“Sure will,” she said before shutting the door. “And thank you for the equipment.”
I waited until she’d walked into her office, then turned to Skylar.
“So, the only reason you came out here was to tell me the good news?” I asked, stepping toward him.
He shifted on his feet before meeting my eyes.
“I got the car magnet in this morning and I couldn’t wait,” he admitted, his grin infectious. “And I wanted to tell you in person because I’m so thankful. I might’ve eventually gotten to this point, but I definitely would’ve hemmed and hawed on it for a few months without you encouraging me to get a move on. I’m still figuring out if it makes sense to work with insurance, or just do some sort of sliding scale, but something tells me it’s better to jump in and learn to swim, I guess.”
His cheeks flushed, like he was both proud of his choices and worried they’d be all wrong.
“I’m a big believer in the power of starting,” I said, pulling him into another hug. “I’m real proud of you. Text me when you’re finished with your first client and let me know how it went.”
“Will do.”
He held onto the hug for a few more seconds, then brushed a kiss against my cheek.
“See you in a couple of weeks,” he said, his voice a little breathy. “Wish me luck on my first client.”
“Good luck,” I said, forcing myself to step back. “And we don’t hafta wait that long to see each other. You’re always welcome to drop by.”
His chest rose as he sent me a tentative smile. Sending me a small wave, he got back into his pretty blue car and headed out.
I didn’t know what he was doing to me, but I hoped I didn’t burn breakfast.