Chapter Four #2
His enthusiastic currying created a cloud of dust, dander, and horsehair that swirled around his head and made his nose itch.
Too Good turned her head and sneezed into her elbow, meaning she’d gotten a faceful.
What was it with her and her sister? Did they not learn anything about personal space in California?
Her shoulder brushed the side of his arm and his nethers reacted as if she’d set them on fire. God, she smelled amazing. Much, much better than horsehair, and not at all like her sister, who didn’t seem to know when enough was enough when it came to personal care products either.
“I didn’t say it was your fault,” she said. “I simply asked if you could have found some way to make it look less easy.”
He’d never understand women. “You thought that looked easy ?”
“Fun, then,” she amended.
Okay, he’d give her that. It really had looked like fun. A whole lot of it, too.
“Miles is a two-time world champion. He could make sitting a greased bull hopped up on caffeine look like a good time.”
“This is a disaster,” she muttered.
If she only knew. She was exactly the type of woman who’d need to come to every clinic to keep an anxious eye on her precious sister, and he couldn’t share a bunkhouse with other men if he had to go to sleep with her in his head every night.
He should tell her what happened with Taryn. Even if she didn’t believe him, it might be enough for her to pull the plug on this goat show.
“We need to talk,” he began, only to have Trouble interrupt from where Ford was showing her how to unbuckle the straps on her saddle.
“Hey, Shauna,” she called over. “Isn’t this fun?”
“It’s a blast,” Too Good replied.
How she could sound so sincere was beyond him. She looked great in jeans, but a cowgirl she was not, and never would be. Her sister was paying a whole lot more attention to Ford’s instructions than she was to Nix’s. When he’d tried to show her how to remove the saddle, she’d ignored him.
Ford, who had no sense of humor to the best of anyone’s knowledge, ducked his head behind Trouble’s horse—but not before Nix caught his grin. Bastard.
“Anyway,” Too Good said, returning her attention to him, which totally blew his concentration, because hazel eyes were another weakness of his. “Yes, we do need to talk. But I don’t want Taryn to find out. We should meet somewhere private.”
Which had his thoughts flipping to seeing her naked, and Trouble never entered that picture.
Desperation had more dust and hair flying as he tried to scrub the backs of his eyes along with the horse.
The mare pinned her ears back and bumped her head into his shoulder, knocking him sideways, which brought him into physical contact with Too Good.
Too Good caught his bicep with one hand and placed her spare palm on his back to steady them both, which parked his elbow between two firm breasts, and the heat scorching his nethers flared a few notches higher.
“Uh…” His brain scrambled to find words that fit a conversation he’d completely lost track of. “This ranch isn’t exactly private.”
Annoyed hazel eyes stabbed him. “There are plenty of private places around here where we can talk. The river is a five-minute walk away. There are three empty barns. One of the bunkhouses is empty. We could slip away and meet up pretty much anywhere.”
He saw a problem that she clearly didn’t.
If they both went missing at the same time, people would notice.
And by people he meant Dan. Dan didn’t mind parading his pretty cousins around the ranch because he had Ryan O’Connell, who ran the place, on his side—and Ryan was a whole lot more intimidating than some mere county sheriff.
Both men expected the boys and the cowhands to behave.
For his part, Nix was doing his best. But it was equally obvious that Too Good, who had zero interest in rodeos and ranching and all that came with them, was trying to forge a relationship with her little sister, and right now, her plans had derailed.
Their rocky relationship did not bode well for Nix and his plans to stay on the right side of the Endeavour’s owners.
A line of sweat formed on his spine. Telling her that Trouble had fluttered her fake eyelashes at him might not work out in his favor. First, Too Good would have to believe him—and what were the odds of that happening?
Plus—and he hated to be the one to tell her this, too—with the right close supervision, the ranch might be the best place to keep Trouble out of…
trouble. Ryan’s wife ran the group home, and a couple of the cowhands doubled as caseworkers.
When it came to teenagers hellbent on causing destruction, they’d seen it all.
He didn’t doubt that Trouble could hold her own against boys her own age.
She manipulated grown men with no problem at all.
But she was also a natural when it came to handling a horse.
He’d been curious to see how a California girl with no previous experience would manage, so he’d watched them ride off and she’d managed just fine.
Unlike Too Good here, who’d bounced around to the point that he’d pitied her horse.
Those were the pluses. The downside of having Trouble around pulled up in a half-ton truck outside the open barn doors.
Eight teenaged boys tumbled out of its bed.
Two more jumped from the cab. One was Remi.
Their driver was a sour-looking Handy, who’d drawn babysitting duty.
They’d been fencing all day in the heat, so they were sweaty and dirty and hungry and tired.
The boys perked up when they saw Taryn. Handy was too fed up with trying to wrangle them into helping unload their gear from the truck to notice.
Too Good spoke fast and low under cover of the distraction.
“Taryn weaseled us an invitation to dinner, then movie night at the main house. Dan says they finish up around nine because the boys get up at five. If I pretend to get a work call and take it outside, we can meet here. Does eight o’clock work? ”
“I see you’ve got it all figured out, Double O Seven.”
She didn’t though. She really didn’t. He pictured them alone in the barn in the dark and got a bad feeling regarding how strong his will was if she fluttered her not-fake, all-woman, eyelashes at him.
His best hope was that her will was stronger than his and her thoughts didn’t run along the same lines.
Remi strolled into the barn, all smoothness in action, while the other boys watched him with envy. “Hey, Taryn. Been riding, I see.”
Taryn’s smile was pure sunshine. Remi blinked as if blinded. Nix was so glad this one problem wasn’t his. He had enough of his own going on. He didn’t want to meet Too Good at eight.
“Machine shed, not here. And better make it seven thirty,” he heard himself say to his horror. “You don’t want to cut it too close to the end of the movie.”