Chapter 21 Jovie
Present Day
It was Friday, marking the end of my third week at the ranch and I was once again working with Wylie.
He had eased up a bit during our second week together where most of the week was spent diving into the marketing and sales strategy for the crops and livestock on the property – his forte. Wylie excelled at negotiating with vendors and handling purchases, making him the go-to guy for auctions. And though Wylie still liked to get a rise out of me, he and I were getting along surprisingly well, and I was enjoying his company. At least I knew I could always count on Wylie to tell me how he felt. Unlike Nash who I couldn't seem to read since our steamy encounter last week.
As our Friday evening wrapped up, we returned to the house to find Gloria unloading bags full of groceries onto the counter.
“What’s all this?” Wylie asked.
I grinned, “I gave Gloria the evening off as a thank you for taking such loving care of my grandfather's house. And in appreciation of you and your brothers’ assistance over the past month, I thought I'd make a taco bar for dinner. I invited Clay and Nash too.”
Wylie leaned down to kiss my cheek with a big grin, “Did I ever tell you that you’re my favorite neighbor? We might just need to keep her around, Gloria,” he added, winking at our housekeeper, who chuckled.
“I’m going to hit the shower, but you’re welcome to join me, Jovie. Wouldn’t mind seeing what other skills you have.”
Rolling my eyes, I replied, “Dinner will be ready in an hour, Wylie.”
Gloria tended to the pool while I completed unpacking the remaining groceries she had purchased. Once I finished, I organized the taco toppings into various bowls and arranged them on the kitchen island. While saying goodbye to Gloria and wishing her a pleasant weekend, I faced away from the door as I seasoned the meat and added it to the pan, breaking it up and stirring it thoroughly.
About ten minutes later I heard a door open, and assumed it was Wylie coming back out after his shower.
“That was a quick shower. I hope it was because you were thinking about Lana and not me while you were in there jerking off,” I teased over my shoulder.
The figure who’d entered behind me stopped abruptly, as I heard a bag drop to the ground. Turning around, I expected to find Wylie, but it was Nash, and his eyes were much angrier than I had anticipated. At that same moment Wylie exited from the guest bedroom with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, his hair still damp as he used another towel to dry it.
“Oh, hey little bro.” Wylie said nodding in Nash’s direction.
Nash’s eyes shifted between me and Wylie as I stood frozen with the taco meat spatula suspended in the air. Wylie finished drying his hair as he looked back and forth between us.
“Weird energy in here, guys.”
Nash snarled, “Can you at least put some clothes on, please?”
“What fun would that be?” Wylie retorted, rolling his eyes, and heading back into the bedroom. Thankfully, Clay entered through the front door seconds later providing a distraction so that I could turn my back to Nash again and scoop the meat into a bowl while avoiding his piercing gaze. I placed it on the counter and greeted Clay with a hug.
“You’re the best,” Clay said, kissing my cheek, and working to assemble three large tacos. Nash hadn’t yet moved, still standing by the door, silently observing our comfortable dynamic. I wondered if he thought there was something more going on between myself and his brothers.
And why would he care if there was? Aren’t I just another girl from the city?
Wylie returned to the scene now wearing a pair of jeans and a button up flannel.
“Thanks again, doll.” He said as he grabbed my waist and hugged me a little tighter than necessary before he filled his plate and filed into the dining room area. I finally dared to look in Nash's eyes, which only created a silent standoff between us.
It was the first time I'd seen him in a week, the last time being when I was grinding on top of his hard cock as he caressed my breasts. Any hopes of him looking less attractive to me since he stormed out were dashed. Nash could have been a model with those cheekbones and strong jawline. I felt myself start to get flustered and a blush creep across my chest as I tried to hold my stance while clenching my thighs together.
“Do all of my brothers want to fuck you?” he whispered as he walked closer to me then leaned against the counter and grabbed a Bud Light. The movement of his arm brushed lightly against my chest as I felt heat spread throughout my body.
I swallowed, “They are just being friendly.”
His eyebrows raised, “And am I just being friendly with you? Would you call what happened last weekend friendly? When you road my hand and orgasmed while screaming my name?”
Unsure of Nash’s intentions in bringing last weekend up, considering he was the one who had halted things, I replied, “You stopped things, so I guess we’re just friends now.”
As if jolted back to reality, he blinked, clenched his jaw, loaded up his plate, and followed his brothers without another word.
The rest of the dinner was less tense, at least from my perspective. I did my best to avoid Nash’s piercing gaze as Wylie, Clay, and I laughed about their latest antics. Wylie teased me for falling on my ass earlier when I climbed a fence to save a baby bunny that got separated from its mom.
“There’s gonna be a mark on that pretty thing tomorrow,” Wylie said, grinning.
Any peace in the room vanished with that comment, and Nash stood up abruptly, pushing his chair back loudly. We all turned to look at him as he grunted pointing to his glass, “Need another drink.”
Wylie’s eyes narrowed as he watched me while Nash left. Then, raising his voice several octaves, he addressed me, “Hey Jovie, what are you up to tonight? We haven’t given you a proper welcome to Lonestar Junction.”
“I don’t have any plans. I still haven’t met anyone here to make friends. What did you have in mind?”
“We usually go over to Abilene and hit up Desert Dust Saloon. It’s one of those old-timey saloons from back in the day, but they souped it up and expanded it to the size of a warehouse. They’ve got a mechanical bull you can ride, and bets go down on Friday nights because they sell 50 cent beer. People get wasted, and there’s country line dancing. You in?”
“Jovie wouldn’t want to go to a place like that,” Nash interjected, reentering the room before I could respond.
“And why would that be?” I shot back with a glare.
He shrugged, “City girls don’t go there. It’s dusty inside. People are sweaty and dancing wall to wall. The bulls are old, and the beer is cheap.”
“I love cheap beer, sweaty dancing and I’m good at riding things.”
Clay snorted, laughing, and Wylie groaned, “bet you’re really good at riding things,” he said, while Nash shot a murderous look his way.
I wondered if he was thinking about how good I was at riding his hand last weekend.
“I’m in,” I said, smiling sweetly at Wylie while intentionally avoiding Nash’s gaze. “Pick me up at 8?”
“You can count on it,” Wylie replied with a wink.