2. Jackson
Jackson
W hen people talk about the Rowe’s, they know exactly what they’re getting with each of us.
Jensen is the sweet one—the kind of quiet, introverted guy who’d rather be elbow-deep in a book or strumming on his guitar than making conversation.
Carter? He’s a ball of sexual energy—a flirtatious pain in the ass who could probably charm the pants off a nun if given enough time.
Then there’s Derek, the eldest, the one who nearly killed his best friend after catching him screwing his wife.
Theo, the transplant sibling, is the charismatic lady-killer; the one who should have been born a movie star but wound up here instead.
And me? I’m the strait-laced one. The working grump.
The one who stayed behind when Derek ran off to tattoo celebrities in California.
The one who keeps this place running so my brothers and sister can have someone to look up to besides our father, who—while an amazing man—is not one for fatherly affection.
Our father is a hard man to get a pat on the back from.
He’s an amazing man, but he’s complicated.
I remember, at twelve years old, I successfully delivered a calf that was sideways.
It was the first time that ever happened to me, and after we knew the calf was okay.
I stood to find my father had been there the whole time, standing just behind me, watching.
We locked eyes and he simply nodded while muttering, “Wash up and get back to brushing the horses.”
That was it.
Derek and I learned to live without praise.
Carter and Theo, though? They thrive on it.
And Jensen? If his routine is off even slightly, the panic attacks start.
So, my role in this family isn’t just running a ranch—it’s also keeping the moving parts working.
It’s about making sure my siblings get their back pats, their stability, their sense of order, whether or not I get anything in return.
This place is a beast. No room for mistakes. No room for breaks. You don’t get a day off; you don’t get vacations. You stop working, you stop making money. You get lazy, accidents happen. Accidents here can cost you money, products, animals, and even your life.
Case in point: a few months ago, Derek flipped his tractor.
One slip-up, one wrong move, and he nearly died.
So, like I said, no mistakes. I run a tight ship.
There are strict orders that must be given and followed.
And right now, I have a very curvy woman swinging her sinful hips down the driveway, and she is most definitely reading like an accident waiting to happen.
Ozzy Davenport is a sexy as fuck, walking and talking distraction.
It would be stupid to deny it. The second I saw her, I felt an instant, infuriating attraction.
She’s a little less than a foot shorter than my six-foot-three height.
Her hair is jet black on one side with silver on the other, and from what I can see, she is covered in tattoos.
She’s got piercings in her cheeks, and last night at supper, I found out her tongue is also pierced.
She’s like nothing I’ve ever seen in this town.
A woman with too much attitude, too much presence.
She wears thick black eyeliner like it’s war paint, and heels that are not at all practical for ranch life.
And yet, I can’t stop looking at her. Even though she pisses me off. And son, does she piss me the fuck off.
Last night, after our little ‘moment,’ she had gone into town to the market and apparently forgotten her wallet and had to return, stating she would go back later on. She had supper with us, and then she was upstairs between her room and Pops.
But now, at six in the morning, this girl is wearing a white tank top and those damn leather pants that hug her ass in a way that makes my mouth water and my cock twitch.
She’s the kind of distraction that causes accidents.
The last thing I need is to think about my father’s nurse in a way that makes my cock twitch.
I have to look away.
I need to look away.
But my cock is on a different mission—apparently, one to make my life hell.
Perfect. She is here because Carter couldn’t keep it in his pants, and now here I am.
“Where is the closest city?”
Her voice startles me, jerking me out of my thoughts.
Shaking my head, I drop the hay bale and hold back a groan, so she doesn’t realize these hundred-and-twenty-pound bales are killing me today.
I don’t know why it matters. I shouldn’t be trying to impress her; yet here we are because, again, my cock is taking the goddamn lead here.
“Thought you went to town yesterday,” I pant while taking my hat off to wipe at the sweat on my brow. “Your sense of direction is so bad you can’t remember how to get back there?”
“That wasn’t a city,” she states.
I give her a smirk. “Aww, come on now, Tink. Are you telling me country life is already too much?”
Her pretty brown eyes narrow. “Tink?”
“Yeah, you kind of remind me of that bitchy ass fairy from the cartoon. You even put your hands on your hips like her.” I chuckle while pointing at her posture.
She glares at me but doesn’t argue, just turns on her heel instead. “Fine, I’ll just use my GPS. There has to be a city somewhere that I can drive to.”
“About two hours away.” I watch as her whole body deflates. It’s a small victory, one I can’t help but chuckle at. “Tink, you best get used to buying online if you need something the town doesn’t have.”
Her brows furrow, lips pursing as she looks away. She’s deflecting. And I don’t know why, but suddenly, I feel uneasy.
“You don’t want to go to town?” I ask.She doesn’t answer, but I catch the tiniest twitch in the corner of her eye. I cross my arms, studying her. “Something happen yesterday?” I tighten my death grip on my work gloves while waiting for her response.
Her head snaps up, her rich brown eyes flashing, and she backs up slightly. Her expression suddenly shifts into something mocking, dismissive.
“Pfft... Get over yourself.” She rolls her eyes as she walks towards her car. “Did something happen yesterday?” She mocks me– terribly –while shaking her head. “Yeah, Jackson, your scary townspeople hurt my fragile little feelings. You gonna go and kick their asses for me, Superman?”
I hate her.
Goddamn it, I fucking hate her. I glare at her retreating figure. She has been here twenty-four goddamn hours, and I’m already ready to send her and her perky ass the fuck off this ranch.
“No,” I say, voice even, controlled. “I was gonna say, if you don’t want people staring at your ass, maybe don’t walk around covered in metal and tattoos.” I tilt my head. “You obviously enjoy the attention, so don’t act offended when you get what you’re asking for.”
That’s the wrong thing to say, I see it the second it leaves my mouth. She stops dead in her tracks, one hand on the car door, her body stiff as steel. Then slowly, she turns. I barely have time to brace before she’s marching toward me, jabbing a sharp fingernail into my chest.
“You ever say that to me again, and I’ll quit,” she snaps, digging her nail in deeper. “Not only will I quit, but I’ll make sure you can’t even get a janitor in here to care for your father. You feel me?”
My jaw tightens but I say nothing. “I have never done anything to deserve the deck I’ve been dealt,” she continues, voice trembling with fury.
“My tattoos are my camouflage, and if you and your pearl-clutching town can’t stand it, stop looking.
I’m here to take care of your father, not be aesthetically pleasing to any of you narrow-minded assholes! ”
Her voice wavers, just slightly. Not enough for most people to catch. But I do. And I hate the way it makes something twist in my chest.
“Ozzy—”
“Fuck you, Jackson,” she sneers. “I don’t require speaking to you until payday,” she states before storming to her car and speeding off, leaving a cloud of dirt behind.
“What did you do?” I turn to see Mama standing behind me, arms crossed.
“I have no idea… I just said she’s covered in tattoos, so people are going to stare at her.”
“Son, leave that girl alone. Your father actually seems to be willing to put up with her… I think. I don’t know.
All they seem to do is trade insults, but he’s laughing, so please be nice to Ozzy.
” She turns to walk back in but stops and looks back at me.
“Also, the weatherman is calling for some massive storms at the end of the week, so you boys are gonna need to prep the barns for the animals. On Friday, we’ll have to get the horses and cattle inside. ”
I groan. “Is it really looking bad?” The last time we got this warning, nothing came of it, and we lost three days of work.
“Would I be telling you if it wasn’t?”
Sighing, I take one last look up the drive before turning to go back to work.
I shovel another load of manure into the wheelbarrow, glancing over at Jensen as he leans against his pitchfork, looking way too amused for this early in the morning.
“I think she’s funny,” he says as he works beside me and Carter, shoveling out the stalls. His voice is light and casual, but I know him well enough to catch the underlying curiosity.
“That girl will eat you alive, Jen,” Carter chuckles, leaning on his shovel with an exaggerated stretch, like the morning’s already drained him. “She’s got a smart mouth and a sharper tongue. And based on how she impaled my nuts with her shoe yesterday, I’d say she’s armed and dangerous.”
I snort, shaking my head. “Says the man who thought he had a shot.”
Carter scoffs, feigning offense. “I still have a shot.”
“No, you don’t,” I deadpan. “She hates you.”
“She hates you more. ”
“Fair,” I admit, digging my shovel into the soiled bedding.
Jensen grins, shoving Carter playfully before turning back to me. “Y’all are just jealous ‘cause she doesn’t hate me. ”