Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Myles
The trip to Bozeman last night had been uneventful, which was more than I could’ve hoped for. I had cheap jeans, a plaid shirt, T-shirts, and boots to wear working outside.
I hadn’t tried anything on. I knew my size and only had to suffer in them for a few days if they were ill fitting. Afterward, Wynn and I grabbed some food. I’d taken Wynn to an upscale place that Gianna couldn’t afford even the cheap alcohol in.
Morning chores were finished, and I lingered outside. The guys had sent me to let the chickens out and collect eggs. The job was usually saved for the youngest on the ranch and meant to be a low blow to my pride, but I’d rather hang around the chickens.
Instead of a big chicken run, someone had built paths for the chickens to walk through. On the other side of the chicken wire were plants. The chickens could walk and eat bugs and clear weeds. The design was neat and had Mae written all over it.
“Morning.” Wynn wandered toward me, her hands in her back pockets.
Fuck. Office Wynn had been too sexy to let me think straight. Ranch Wynn made me want to haul her over my shoulder and find a clean spot in the barn.
Could I throw her in the car and go back to that spot?
I’d bought more condoms, knowing damn well what an epically bad decision it would be to keep sleeping with her. Being under the same roof as her all night was torture. Having a houseful of people was a special mind fuck. After seeing her today, it’d be impossible to get my erection to go away.
She’d put her hair in a long braid and clipped the shorter front strands behind her head.
She wore no makeup and a pink T-shirt like she was the first version of Cowgirl Barbie ever made.
Her jeans were worn at the thighs and torn at the knees in ways that hadn’t been done in a factory. She had on the same boots as yesterday.
“Morning,” I said and carried my bucket of eggs into the shop.
“Where are you going?”
“To clean the eggs.” Nothing had changed at the Bailey ranch, but at the same time, there were differences.
A new shop. Another outbuilding by the chicken shed.
The donkeys had thrown me, and the pen with the goats hadn’t been around when I’d been here last. Those were Chance’s 4-H projects.
Along with some chickens, but he kept those separate from the egg layers.
“We use the sink and egg washer in the garden shed now.” She pointed to the new outbuilding that was like a mini barn.
I switched directions, and she followed. When I got to the counter, I stared at the contraption in the bottom of the sink. “What the hell is that?”
“An egg washer.”
“I thought that was me.”
She hopped onto the counter and let her legs swing. “When we got older and started moving away, and my parents took in fewer foster kids, Mama invested in some time-saving devices.”
“Do you still sell the eggs?” They used to be a mini business the Baileys had used to teach the kids entrepreneurship. I hadn’t relished being a teen and delivering eggs with a much younger Wynn and her sisters, but I’d damn well pocketed the money and saved it.
“Mama gives the leftovers to the food pantry.” She leaned over and her sweet lemongrass smell wafted over me. The fly of my jeans grew uncomfortably tight, and it had nothing to do with the fit and everything to do with where my blood was going.
I couldn’t get addicted to her. Her life was in Montana. I’d never leave everything I’d built for a woman. My place was my job.
“You just put them there and run the water. The stream will jumble the pads enough to rotate the eggs and get them clean all over.”
I grunted and did as she asked. She was quiet and stared out the door of the shed. A horse whinnied in the distance. Summer had gone out with Tate and Teller. Junie was staying in town with Autumn.
I had questions about them. And about Wynn.
I could surmise what it’d been like growing up in the Bailey house.
What were they like as adults? As if I’d been afraid to think about them and give a shit, the questions flooded in.
The sisters had been annoying, but in a little-sister way.
I’d been protective of all of them—they’d been so haunted—but I’d only known how to help Wynn.
Being around the guys today had been easier than yesterday. They still looked at me with guarded contemplation, but if I didn’t give them attitude, they didn’t return any. We’d slipped into the same role we had as kids.
“Can I ask you a question?” She continued swinging her legs.
I laid out the eggs on clean rags to dry. “No.” She wouldn’t ask anything I wanted to answer.
“I’m going to anyway.”
“Then why seek permission?”
“Because I didn’t think you’d be that stubborn.” She flicked the brim of my ball cap. I hadn’t gone full Western. All I needed was to block out the sun while trying to avoid a hat-head sunburn.
“It’s not stubbornness. It’s called privacy, Frosty.”
The self-satisfied look she got warmed my insides until they were molten. Frosty was a goddamn nickname and not even a sexy one, yet she beamed like it was some French endearment.
I’d call her Frosty and search for that expression from now on.
For however long I was here. “I left so I could start a life that was my own.” I propped my hands on the counter and stared at the wall of tools—trowels, claws, markers, and little sticks to write on.
“Why couldn’t you wait?” Her smile was sad.
“I was really upset we couldn’t throw you a going-away party.
Autumn cried all day when we were told you were gone, Junie made a song for you, and Summer complained about having to do your chores.
” She tapped her fingers on the edge of the counter.
“I think the guys’ feelings were hurt, too. ”
I comprehended none of what she said. “No one missed me.”
“I did,” she said softly. “Honestly, we all did.”
I huffed out a laugh but stared at the floor, my arms braced on the edge of the counter. I’d only thought of myself. I’d had to. I’d been in places where people either didn’t care I was there or wished I was gone. “I don’t see Tate missing anyone.”
“He did. I think he thought you guys were friends.”
I worked my jaw back and forth. If I had to pick one person I’d considered a friend from those days, it’d have been Tate.
The guy who’d tried to run me off yesterday wasn’t friendly, but then he didn’t understand my actions hadn’t been about him.
“You were a decent family. All of you guys.” I pushed off the counter and paced.
“You have to understand that I lived under constant fear I’d lose everything.
At any moment. One phone call, and I’d have to pick up and go to another home. ”
“That’s why you were so angry?”
“Part of it. Before your dad set up an account for me, I had no money. Scratch that—I’d had no money I had been allowed to keep. Or it was outright stolen.”
“That’s awful.”
It was who’d taken it that made it all worse.
“Not everyone is like your parents. Some are using the system. Some genuinely want to help but have no understanding of the mental and emotional needs of the kids. Some take teens thinking they’ll be free labor or are like cats and can look out for themselves.
And the good homes are already full. But in the end, sometimes it’s me, and they don’t deserve to deal with my shit. ”
“I’m so sorry.” The sympathy glimmering in the depths of her brown eyes cut through me. Usually, I hated sympathy, would rather gouge my eyes out, but she made me feel seen.
I went to stand in front of her, and she uncrossed her legs. I wedged myself right in the middle. “I left because of me. All my early decisions were made for me. Then your dad helped me out, and I grew determined to give back.”
“The investment money?”
I nodded. “I was in jail. For fighting.” She knew so much already, I’d give her this.
Her pretty lips parted, and her eyes grew wide. “You were in jail?”
“I was stupid and quick to anger. I had no one to call. So I called Darin.” To my surprise, he’d actually come. Then he’d bought me lunch. He’d driven through the night to save my ass. “He was frank about my options. I told him my crazy plan and thought he’d chew into me for copying him.”
“Of course he didn’t.”
“He’s a goddamn saint.”
She twined her arms around my shoulders. Before this week, she’d been forbidden. Yesterday, she’d been unexpected. This? As natural as breathing. Why couldn’t I wake up every day, suck in fresh morning air, wash eggs, and make out with Wynn in a garden shed?
“I think you’re more like him than you think,” she said softly.
I couldn’t go one more second without tasting her. I dipped my head, and I was kissing her, sweeping my tongue inside to taste her minty flavor. Lust soared in my blood until I was yanking her to the edge of the counter. She let out one of those needy moans I loved.
“What the hell is this?” Tate said from behind us. “I was checking on you, and I find you tonsil-deep in my sister?”
I jerked away, but Wynn wouldn’t let me go far. “Tate, dang it!” She craned her head to look over my shoulder.
I wouldn’t turn around and show off the monster erection in my pants. I looked over my shoulder instead. “Got anything else for me to do?”
Tate ignored me. “Isn’t he a little old for you?”
She tightened her legs around me. “I like the grandpas.”
I made a choking sound. “Christ, Wynn.”
“Grandpas that read to you when you were a kid?”
“Don’t let him get to you,” she said to me as she played with the back of my hair. “We helped his wife buy him at a bachelor auction, so he’s not one to talk.”
The information did make me feel better. Wynn was twelve years younger than me. I hadn’t felt like an old pervert until Tate had pointed it out.
I respected him. His disapproval…bothered me. “I hadn’t seen Wynn for twenty-two years before she marched into my office—late.”
“I was right on time!”
I smirked at her, and she mock glared at me. I’d kiss her again if her brother weren’t right behind me.