Chapter 6 You’d Be a Fun Ride
You'd Be a Fun Ride
Tripp
Iwait until the supper dishes are stacked in the sink before clearing my throat. “Hey, Quinnie, want to come check on one of the cows with me? She’s favoring her back leg, and I’d feel better if you checked it out.”
Wes freezes by the door, brows furrowing. “I didn’t notice anything.”
I fight the urge to glare at him.
“It wasn’t very obvious, and it’s probably nothing. But I thought she could take a quick look for us since she’s here. Set my mind at ease.”
Her eyes brighten as she smiles, a tendril of blond hair slipping loose from its clip, and for a second I forget what I was saying. She’s too damn pretty when she looks at me like that.
“Oh, sure. I can come out and take a look.”
Good thing Wes doesn’t realize I invented the cow problem just to steal a few minutes alone with her. Dangerous? Maybe. She’s my best friend’s little sister. She’s off-limits—and I know it.
I just want to ask her about quitting her job. Wes said there was nothing to worry about. And I’m not worried—just curious.
Quinn and I had a lot of heart-to-hearts during her summers here, especially during those last few she came without Wes. And I have half a mind to tease the full story out of her little by little.
“Maybe I should come check it out with you guys,” Wes says gruffly.
I tear my gaze from Quinn to find her brother glaring at me, suspicion darkening his features. I shrug, trying not to appear guilty. “If you want. It’s probably a waste of time.”
“Wes, I‘m sure they’ll manage fine without your help. They’ll call if they need you.”
Sawyer arches a brow in my direction. Apparently, Sawyer's on my side today. Thank God for small mercies.
“Right. We’ve got it under control. We’ll call if we need anything,” I repeat with a smirk.
Sawyer drags Wes out of the house, and I lean against the counter while Quinn finishes loading the dishwasher.
She shouldn’t look that good doing something so ordinary, but she does.
Those jeans cling to her thighs, lifting her ass in a way I shouldn’t notice—especially after spending all night trying not to think about how good she looked in those pink trousers yesterday.
I scrub a hand over my face, forcing the thought away. I have no business staring at Wes’ little sister like that.
When she’s done, she pulls on an old flannel jacket and grabs a large tote bag from the hook in the hallway—no doubt stuffed with medical supplies.
We make the short trek to the stables, and I saddle up June and Cash to ride out to the pasture while Quinn croons to them, her entire face lighting up. I strap her bag to the saddle and then turn toward her. “You remember how to mount?”
Her apprehensive gaze flicks to mine. “I remember how. I just might be a little out of practice.”
My lips twitch at the memory of Wes and me having a similar conversation the first time he was getting back in the saddle. Her eyes soften when she notices my amusement, and she gnaws on her lower lip. “I might need you to spot me.”
I chuckle softly and step up behind her, trying to ignore the way my blood heats and the air charges when I’m this close to her.
“I’ve got you,” I say, swallowing down the prickle of desire that spreads across my skin as my hand finds her waist. “On the count of three?”
She nods.
“One. Two...”
On three, she lifts herself, and my hand makes brief contact with her ass as she swings her leg over the saddle. I remove it as quickly as I can, not wanting her to think I’m trying to cop a feel.
“Thanks,” she says, looking down at me from atop Cash.
“Don’t mention it. You could have made it up there just fine without me, Quinnie. That mount was much prettier than your brother’s.”
She snorts at me. “I was always a prettier mount than Wes.”
“Ain’t that the damn truth,” I mutter as I pull myself into June’s saddle.
I lead the way to the pasture where one of the late-calving groups is grazing.
Once we reach them, I pull the reins to slow June, and Cash sidles up beside us with Quinn on his back.
She forgot to grab a hat, and her hand shields her eyes against the sun as she studies the herd.
I should’ve thought to remind her before we left the house.
I feel bad for bringing her out on what I know is a wild-goose chase. There’s no cow that needs treatment. I grab the Stetson off my head. “Here, use my hat.”
I extend my hand toward her, and she stares at it, her lips tipping up at the corners in a smirk. “Slow down, Casanova. I just got here yesterday.”
I shoot her a confused look that makes her bark out a laugh. “I’ve been living in the city for a long time, but I do remember the cowboy hat rule, Tripp.”
I roll my eyes. “For Christ’s sake, Quinnie. That’s not why I offered you my hat.”
“Too bad. I’m sure you’d be a fun ride,” she teases.
This is the kind of friendship Quinn and I used to have. Teasing, innuendos, and maybe some appreciative glances, but we’d never crossed any lines before, and I’m not about to start crossing those lines now. Not when her brother isn’t only my best friend but also my boss.
She's lightyears out of my league anyway.
“Hilarious. Here, let’s take the horses around to the other side so you’re not squinting at the sun. I don’t see the one I’m looking for anyway.”
Most can’t tell the cows apart in a herd just by looking, but I can.
I know which calf belongs to which dam without checking tags, which dams will raise hell if you get too close, and which are a bit more tolerant.
I can still pick out the ones bottle-raised a few years back, and I’ve got a good idea which calves we’ll sell once they’re weaned for breeding stock.
I squeeze June with my heels and click my tongue, sending her into a trot toward the west side of the pasture. We stay in the saddle, looking over the cows, the setting sun now at our backs, heating my neck and making sweat drip down my spine.
“Do you see her?”
I keep my eyes on the herd grazing instead of on Quinn like I want to.
“I found her, but she looks okay this evening,” I say with a shrug. I ramble off the number of the cow I’m looking at, pointing my finger toward her to make her easier for Quinn to find.
She watches the cow I’ve pointed out for a few minutes, her brow scrunched up in concentration. “She looks okay, but she hasn’t moved much. Do you think you can drive her this way a bit?”
I take off toward the herd without a word and cut toward the cow I know is perfectly fine. I drive her—and a few others that were grazing nearby—toward Quinn so she can get a better view.
She studies the cow’s gait as they move past her before she shakes her head and shrugs. “She looks good to me,” she calls out.
I nod as June trots back to Cash and Quinn. “She’s lookin’ good now. Maybe I just imagined it this morning.”
Quinn takes a deep breath of what I know is manure-scented air. She doesn’t seem to mind the smell. The sun kisses her face as it dips lower on the horizon, bathing her hair in a golden glow. She looks nearly angelic right now. Peaceful.
I was gonna ruin the moment, but I didn’t know when I’d have the chance to talk to her like this again.
“So, you gonna tell me why you quit your job, Quinnie?”
She skewers me with a glare. “I told you I wanted to be here for Pops. And for Wes.”
“You might be able to convince Wes that’s the only reason you’re here, but I’m willing to bet there’s more to it than that.”
Her cheeks go pink as her eyes dart away from me, a clear indication that I’m right. She turns Cash and nudges him with her heels to get him moving.
“What happened?” I press, following on June.
Her shoulders slump in defeat. “What are the chances that you’ll give up on figuring it out and let me be?”
“Since you said that... no chance, Quinnie. Now I know there’s something real juicy you don’t want me to know.”
Her eyes roll, and she exhales a loud sigh. “Great.”
The horses pick their way through the pasture, heading back toward the stables, and I allow the silence to hang in the air for a few moments. I’ve never been one to let the quiet last long, though.
“You might as well tell me. You know I’m not gonna shut up about it ‘til you do.”
She scoffs. “It’s stupid.”
“I doubt that.”
“I wasn’t lying about coming out here to help, but quitting my job was impulsive.”
She keeps her back straight in the saddle, thighs solid as she rides, eyes fixed on the field instead of me.
“I was dating Beau Kensington, the clinic’s owner—another vet. We broke up a couple of months ago. I, uh, caught him cheating on me.”
My head snaps toward her. Quinn shifts in the saddle, her expression unreadable—but the faint flush in her cheeks gives her away.
“Jesus Christ. Quinn, I’m—”
She waves me off, pretending it has no effect on her.
“I’m fine. He was always a bit condescending, but after the breakup it got unbearable.
Losing the apartment to him and crashing with Marlowe was bad enough.
Then he tried to tell me I couldn’t take a few days off to see Pops, so I told him to shove the job up his ass and quit. ”
I fight down the urge to look up this Kensington douchebag so I can pay him a little visit. “It must have been pretty bad. You’re not the type to quit without a backup plan.”
“I might regret it later, but I couldn’t stand working with him for another second.
He spent half his day flirting with the vet techs and then had the nerve to act like I was the problem in our relationship.
” She laughs under her breath, but it’s humorless.
“After a while, I started to believe him—wondering if maybe I really was the problem.
I hated who I was becoming around him—always anxious, waiting for the next little dig that would make me doubt myself.
So, for the first time in my life, I quit. "
Her gaze flicks away, and for a moment, I see something crack in her—something small and raw she’s trying hard to hide. I hate that anyone has made her feel less than the amazing, talented, and intelligent woman she is. She could do anything she put her mind to.
Once we reach the stable, I slide down from June. The silence between us feels heavy with all the things I want to say. That she deserves far better than anything that idiot could give her. That she’s one of the smartest, kindest people I know. But the words get stuck in my throat.
I stand by in case she needs help getting down, but she manages to make her first dismount in years look graceful.
“You’ll find something better,” I finally say, giving Cash a pat before turning to meet her gaze. “Any clinic would be lucky to have you on staff. You’re damn good at what you do, Quinn. Don’t let some asshole make you forget that."
“Thanks,” she says, glancing down and wiping the dust from her jeans. She clears her throat, blinking away the lingering emotion. “I know I should start looking soon, but I want to be here helping as long as I can. I know Pops can be a handful.”
She’s changing the subject on purpose, but I don’t want to push it. We might have been close back in high school, but that was eons ago. I got most of the story out of her. I don’t need to keep poking at unhealed wounds.
“You can say that again. The old man is ornery as all get out.”
She laughs lightly. “I think between the four of us out here, we should be able to keep him in line.”
“God, I hope so. Go on and head back inside. I can get these two unsaddled.”
She nods, giving me a soft smile, and turns on her heel, walking toward the old farmhouse in those damn jeans that hug her in all the right places.
I push down the urge to follow and busy myself with untacking the horses.
I give myself a little pat on the back for hardly thinking of her naked at all—then head home alone instead of into the farmhouse, where I’d much rather be. With her.