Chapter 12
Knox
The saddle creaks with every one of Sir’s steps.
I wipe another track of sweat off my face with my shoulder.
The summer sun is out in full force. I much prefer the snow over this shit.
I hate sweating through every layer of my clothes.
People always say you can take clothes off, but I’d rather not cut off a nipple because I’m working shirtless in the heat.
I’m riding the back half of my land, checking fences to ensure it’s safe to move the cattle out here. Normally, Finn would be here with me now that school’s out, but he went to a pool party with Leah and Lauren today. I’m missing my buddy. He makes these trips a whole lot more fun.
As I ride over the hill, I do a double take.
The house is fucking pink.
Farrah painted her goddamn house bubblegum pink.
Who does shit like that?
Without realizing it, I’m halfway to her property.
Sir begins to trot, moving toward Farrah’s house at a quicker pace than I’d prompted.
I have no idea what we’re going to do once we get there, but he hasn’t given me much of a choice in the matter.
It’s not lost on me that I could turn him around, that I’m the one in charge here.
I just…can’t seem to help myself. Maybe I’ve turned into a masochist now that I’ve rounded the corner on forty.
Grayson’s words filter through my brain as we approach her front porch. He’d likely remind me that she’s allowed to paint her house whatever color she wants. I don’t get a say in the matter, even if I think she’s batshit crazy for choosing that specific color.
I tie Sir’s reins to Farrah’s front porch railing and walk up the freshly painted wooden steps. Did she have the porch redone? The steps aren’t sagging anymore.
I rap my knuckles on her front door. She got rid of the sagging screen door too. Jesus, she’s been fucking busy in the past two months.
A few seconds go by without an answer. I glance around, trying to decide if I should just move on with my day.
I don’t even know why I’m here. If she opens the door right now, I have no clue what will come out of my mouth.
I’d like to say what the fuck were you thinking, painting the house pink, but I can’t do that.
Then a crash sounds inside, and I don’t even think. I open the door, stepping through the foyer to find out what just happened. I’ll add leaving her door unlocked to my list of grievances.
“Shit. Crap. This is not good.”
The muffled words come from the back of the house, so I head straight there. The sight I walk in on leaves me speechless.
Until I’m suddenly not. “What the fuck are you doing?”
Farrah gasps, her arms windmilling before she catches herself against the wall. The ladder she’s standing on is leaning sideways against her kitchen cabinets, while she’s precariously balanced over the edge of it.
Yellow paint is splashed across the floor, and a paintbrush is next to the puddle.
“You scared the shit out of me,” Farrah grumbles.
I step around the paint on the floor and reach out to grab her around the waist. A part of my brain registers that my fingers almost touch, and I can feel her ribs without having to squeeze.
Oh, holy fuck. I’m touching her bare skin. She’s got overalls and a tight, cropped T-shirt on. What kind of idiot wears scraps of fabric to work in?
“What are you doing?” she squeals. “Put me down.”
“I’m saving you from breaking your neck, Princess. Would you like me to drop you into the paint or take you across the kitchen where it’s safe?” I look at her and realize my mistake immediately.
Farrah’s nose is inches from mine. Her brown eyes are spitting anger, and her full mouth is curled up in a sneer.
Fuck, she’s pretty.
I shake that thought away and move to set her down in the paint.
“Wait.” Farrah grips my arms as if that’s going to keep me from moving.
It does, but only because I’m not that big of an asshole.
Her tiny hands don’t fit all the way around me.
I hate that I’m noticing our size difference right now.
I make a lot of people seem small when I stand next to them, but Farrah is like a pixie in comparison.
“Put me down by the sink.”
I follow her directions, gently placing her on her feet. She looks up at me, her head barely coming to my chest. I’m stuck in her dark brown gaze. It makes me think of fresh-tilled earth and the smell of summer on the wind.
I suddenly feel like a monster hovering over her, even if I take a sick amount of pleasure in knowing she’s not afraid of me.
A meow echoes in the room, breaking the spell. A ginormous grey cat comes sauntering into the room. It weaves its body around my legs, and I bend over to give it a couple of scratches on its head. My gaze snags on the wonky ladder again.
I straighten to look at Farrah, only to find her watching me with a curious gaze. It makes something in my stomach flip and immediately pisses me off. “What the fuck were you thinking, getting on a ladder like that by yourself?”
Her glare comes back in full force. “Oh, I don’t know. I was definitely hoping my ladder would break and I would come crashing down on my head. It was the top thing on my to-do list today.” Her snark makes me grit my teeth. Mostly because I have a weird compulsion to laugh.
“Buy a better ladder next time.” I don’t know why I say that. It’s like the equivalent of saying, I know you are, but what am I?
Farrah scoffs. “Sure thing. I’ll go use all the extra money I have and buy the most expensive ladder I can find. Oh, wait! I did buy a brand-new ladder. It still broke.”
Her words filter through my annoyance, and I finally look at the ladder in question. The metal is still shiny, except for the yellow paint splattered on its legs. That’s when I see the pin that should hold the ladder in place when raised is also on the floor.
Now the lopsided ladder makes sense.
I sigh, running my hands through my hair. “I’ll return it and make sure you get a full refund.”
“What?”
I look back over at her. “I’ll return the ladder for you. I know the guys at the hardware store. They’ve got fragile egos and would never believe it broke. They’ll think you did something wrong.”
“But I—”
I hold my hand out. “I know you didn’t, but they won’t care. If I take it in, they’ll likely give me the money back as well as a new ladder for the inconvenience.”
She huffs, mumbling about the patriarchy and shitty men. I have to bite the inside of my lip to keep from laughing.
“Fine. Whatever. I need to clean this mess up anyway.”
I suddenly remember I’m on a horse and don’t have my truck. Lifting my hat, I run my fingers through my hair before settling it back on my head. “I rode Sir over here. I don’t have my truck.”
Farrah gives me a droll look before grabbing her keys from a bowl on the counter. “I’m only giving these to you because I don’t want to deal with assholes today. One is plenty.”
I frown down at her hand. “You think that ladder will fit in your tiny car?”
She rolls her eyes. “No, you dolt. My truck is parked on the side of the house. I traded my car after I bought the house.”
I don’t bother to respond, taking her keys and then carefully lifting the ladder out of the paint splatters. Farrah hands me the broken pin before turning her back on me to assess the paint mess.
As I carefully put the ladder in the bed of Farrah’s truck, I stand there wondering, what the fuck am I doing?
* * *
It takes me over an hour to get back to Farrah’s house.
As annoying as it was to drive someone else’s vehicle, I enjoyed not being recognized by anyone.
I was able to slip in and out of the hardware store without getting stopped.
The thing that took the longest was that the two idiots who manage the store had to decide what to do with the broken ladder.
I made it quite clear that I didn’t care what they did with it, but if they didn’t give me the money back, I’d make their lives hell. They rectified the situation immediately and then let me get an even better ladder than the one Farrah originally bought.
Did I have to strong-arm them for that? A little, but no one will have any idea that I was doing it for the woman who gets on every fucking nerve I have. They’ll just think I was being an asshole like always.
I carry the ladder into Farrah’s house, noticing that Sir now has a bucket of water and has been moved into the shade. He looks as pleased as punch, which tells me he’s conned a treat from Farrah. He probably fell for her sugary personality just like all the other fools in town.
I make my way back to the kitchen, surprised to see there’s not a speck of paint left on the floor. She’s also been busy painting the rest of the cabinets the same yellow that had been spilled on the floor.
It makes me blink a little, as if I’m staring directly into the sun. I focus on getting her ladder set up instead of speaking my mind.
Grayson would be proud of me.
Until she decides to open her mouth. “That’s not the same ladder I had.”
“No, it’s better than that one.”
“I liked the one I picked.”
“This one is lighter and easier to use. And you didn’t have to pay for it.”
Farrah huffs. “But the other one had all the features I needed. Why didn’t you just get the same one?”
“Fuck, Princess. Why can’t you just say thank you? I got your money back and a free ladder. Take the win.” Where the fuck that nickname came from, I don’t know, but I revel in the way her eyes spit fire at me when I use it.
“Stop calling me that. And I don’t like owing people.”
“Did I say you owed me something?”
“You hate me, Knox. Why the heck would I believe you’d do something for me out of the kindness of your heart?”
I sigh. “I don’t hate you.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
“Look, take the damn ladder. Be careful. And fucking call me if you’re going to do something stupid again.” I stomp out of her kitchen, feeling like I’m about to crawl out of my skin. It isn’t until I’m outside, unhitching Sir’s reins, that I realize my heart is pounding.
I swing up into the saddle, kicking Sir into a run.
I need distance from whatever the fuck is happening to me right now.
Farrah Nelson is like an incoming snowstorm. If I don’t batten down the hatches before she lands, my life won’t be recognizable anymore.