Chapter 3
brODY
“How did I end up getting stuck with this job? Should’ve sent Brutal.”
I know the grumbling makes me sound like a whiny ass, but when Shay radioed that someone from Cole Automotive called and said Bessie was ready, I went into defensive mode. Unfortunately, Brutal has plans with Allyson tonight and woman trumps truck. Asshole.
I’d tried James without luck, but before I could attempt a sweet-talking deal with Luke, the girls had figured out there was something I was trying to get out of and Mark had stuck me with the assignment.
He’d said it was because it was my fault Bessie was on the other side of the mountain, but I’m near certain Shay was conspiring.
And she doesn’t even know about Lil Bit. But she knows me.
So here I sit in the passenger seat of Sophie’s big brown truck, heading to the far side of the mountain.
She got wrangled into this fair and square, at least. She’s delivering a foster goat back to its owner.
Right now, Vincent van Goat is in the back of the truck in a kennel cage large enough that he could stand up and prance around, but he’s curled up in the hay, enjoying the wind in his hair.
“Vincent doing better?”
Should be an easy enough question, but Sophie looks at me out of the corner of her eye. “This what we’re doing? Talking shop?”
I pull my hat off, curl the brim, and put it back on again, which must be some kind of tell because Sophie smiles like I just spilled my deepest, darkest secrets.
“Vincent’s doing fine. His ear’s all healed up, and he’s ready to get back to his herd. Thankfully, he seems to be hearing just fine.” She chuckles at her own Van Gogh-slash-goat joke.
Vincent van Goat came to us a couple of weeks ago after a coyote got onto his owner’s land.
Vincent’s ear had been the only serious injury thanks to the rancher’s herd dog, but it’d been pretty serious at first. If Vincent hadn’t been the rancher’s daughter’s pet, he probably would’ve been sent to greener pastures, but Sophie promised the girl to save him, and somehow, she did.
“You did good with him.”
“Thank you. I felt like it was a bit of a test, but Doc seems proud and I think Vincent is going to dance around when he sees his girls.”
Sophie only recently finished veterinary school and became official, but she’s been Doc Jones’s right hand for a while now. She’s good with animals of all sorts, humans included. So as we get closer to Cole Automotive, I decide to tempt fate.
“Can I ask you something?”
“No, you’re not my favorite Tannen. That’s Shay, followed by Brutal because have you seen him with Cooper? You and Bobby are tied for third.” I grunt, not amused. Or at least not letting her know that I am. “Fine, sorry. Ask away.”
“It’s about you girls.” She clears her throat pointedly. “Sorry, women. But I don’t get my feathers ruffled when you call us ‘the boys’ even though we’re all men. Except for James. Always goofing off and doing something stupid.”
She snorts at my dig at her husband, but he is the most playful of any of us. Hell, even Cooper has told him he’s immature when James gets to pranking us. “I like him silly and doing stupid shit. Keeps me on my toes and makes the day fun. But I don’t think that was your question, now was it?”
I hum under my breath, some tune Bobby’s been picking at on his guitar that’s already gotten in my head, trying to decide if I should back out of this conversation. Hell, James does stupid shit, so why not me too?
“Shay’s country, through and through. She’s always been like that, a tomboy more into dirt and animals than anything stereotypically girly. Katelyn is basically the opposite, all feminine and frilly. And you . . . you fall somewhere in the middle.”
I pause and she interjects. “I have no idea where you’re going with this, but I can’t wait to find out.” She’s nearly vibrating in anticipation of my spilling my guts, something I literally never do.
This is such a bad idea, but I force the words out anyway.
“You do this.” I gesture to her muddy clothes, bedhead hair that was braided and forgotten hours ago, and bare face.
“And then, you get all dolled up too, in fancy outfits and makeup and stuff. How do you flip-flop and still feel like yourself? Doesn’t it feel fake? ”
Her hands tighten on the steering wheel. “Wow, there’s a lot to unpack there, but thanks for the armchair psychoanalysis and observation.” She fidgets with her braid now that I’ve drawn attention to it.
“Never mind, sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.” I try to backpedal, hating that I made her uncomfortable because that wasn’t my intention.
But she’s thinking, formulating an answer.
“No, it’s okay. I know what you mean . .
. kinda . . . or I think I do. They’re both me, the gritty vet version and the fancier stuff too.
Just different sides, if that makes sense?
I grew up in the city, didn’t fall in love with this kind of life until college.
My brother thought I was nuts when I said I wanted to be a livestock vet.
He’d never seen me without a manicure, much less with dirt under my nails.
But it just fit, you know? I’m still that girl, but just this one too.
” She tosses her braid over her shoulder dismissively.
“Everyone’s got different facets like that.
I mean, Shay has been known to dress up in actual heels and a dress before, and Katelyn dresses down in sweats and stuff.
But I don’t know if that’s exactly what you mean, is it? ”
She’s picking at the edge of the tape holding me together, or at least holding my lips closed. I huff out in annoyance, but it’s a front. I started this and I’m gonna finish it. “I met a woman—”
She squeals and kicks her feet in the floorboard, making the truck slow down suddenly.
Luckily, when I look behind us, Vincent hasn’t so much as shifted in his sleep in the hay.
Sophie points at me, her finger dangerously close to my nose.
“I knew it. Is this about the woman Katelyn saw you with at the bar? I knew there was more to that than you were saying.”
“There was. I met her earlier that day, at the mechanic shop,” I admit slowly.
Sophie’s brows jump hopefully as she realizes where we’re heading now, but I shut that down with a glower.
“At the garage, she was different—like one of the guys.” I leave out that I wanted to fuck her against the nearest flat surface, something I’ve never felt about any guy I’ve ever known.
“But an hour later, she’s prancing around and girling out and flirting. ”
Sophie dances in her seat, her butt wiggling around like a happy goat. “I like it! Sounds like someone’s in-ter-est-ed!” She ends on a singing, drawled-out note.
I shake my head, examining my dirty hands and remembering Lil Bit’s clean ones. “Nah, not like that. It was just confusing, you know? I’m a no-filter, what-you-see-is-what-you-get guy. I was trying to make sense of it, for science.”
“For science?” Sophie snorts. “Let’s start here, Mr. Psychoanalyst .
. . you are the furthest thing from a was-ee-wig guy and you know it.
Hell, you play it up when the mood suits you.
” She looks over, waving her hand over me like I did to her.
“This says redneck cowboy. Rough, tough, stoic, and quiet. You have literally growled at strangers at the grocery store, and people are scared of you because you have a reputation as a brooding asshole.”
“Thanks.”
She backhands my shoulder. They weren’t compliments. “On the flip side, you’re trying to figure this woman out. You’re aware, watchful, and observant like Brutal is. And not that you’d let anyone know it, but you’re smart as a whip. What was the last book you read, Brody?”
Shit. She’s right. That’s not exactly something I go around advertising. It’s not that I want people to think I’m stupid, but it’s not my job to avail them of their own preconceived stereotypes about ranchers. “Midnight in Chernobyl. It’s about the nuclear disaster there.”
Her brows knit together even as her eyes widen. “What the . . . see? Nobody’s going to think some ranch riding cowboy like you is devouring stuff like that as light bedtime reading with a Jack Daniels nightcap. You’re this hard exterior, but there’s more to you, Brody. So much more.”
We’re both silent for a moment, her words floating through the cab of the truck.
I’m wishing I hadn’t started this conversation.
I meant to figure out Lil Bit, not have Sophie figuring out all my pieces and parts.
But I guess in a way, she did help me figure out something about Lil Bit, about how she can go from one extreme to another.
“So you going to ask her out when we get to the garage? When do we meet her? She’ll have to pass the family test, and it’s damn near impossible to get our approval.” I wish I could say she was lying, but we are a persnickety and prickly bunch.
Though I could probably roll in with just about anyone and they’d throw a parade in celebration. I don’t exactly go around advertising my one-night stands, so they are under the mistaken impression that I’m lonely.
“Nah, it ain’t like that. Just for science, like I said.
” I smirk, knowing Sophie’s well aware that I’m full of shit.
I’m not exactly interested in Lil Bit, or at least not anymore, but I am still a bit confused how one version of her could have me rock hard and thirsty and the other could leave me so cold and uninterested.
Sophie hums, not convinced in the least. “Science? Yeah, biology and chemistry. Bow-chicka-bow-wow.” She wiggles in her seat again.
I return the shoulder backhand, though decidedly gentler than her smack.