Reckless(8)

I don’t have time for charm.

“Come on. Let’s get this over with.”

Mallory rolls her eyes, but gathers her equipment so we can get started.

Once her lesson’s done and she’s out of my hair, I hurry to ride one more horse before it gets too hot. By the time I’m finished, my face is burning from the searing heat. Stomping over to the faucet on the side of the barn, I bend over to splash some cold water on my face, but it comes out warm.

“Damn it.” I wipe my face again and tell my two ranch hands that I’m headed to the house for a few minutes and they should take their lunch. I wish I could say we’re calling it a day, that I can pick up the rest of my workload this evening when it’s cooler, but that’s not an option if I want to get my kids fed, bathed, and tucked into bed before a potential buyer swings by tonight to look at one of our yearlings.

My shoes kick up dirt as I trudge across our expansive yard, but I love this walk. A deep pride wells up in me as I approach my home through the field of dandelions and thistle. I inherited this house from my parents, and I’ve worked my ass off to take care of it. Some day, I hope to give it to my kids so they can have the same leg up in this world that my folks gave me and Logan.

My brother also inherited a house on the other side of the property, which we share for the sake of the business. Since Allison left, I’ve wondered if it would be easier to have my mom move back in with me and the kids instead of having her live with Logan, but I’m afraid that would make my dependence on her worse. The woman needs a break, which she won’t get here.

Mila comes tearing by me when I open the back door, and Cody toddles after her. “No running in the house.”

Mila slows to a halt until Cody plows into her legs, and then she starts power-walking around the corner. My mom lumbers about ten paces behind.

“You doing okay, Ma?”

She rolls her eyes. “Of course I’m okay, but those little punks are getting faster.”

“Don’t you dare run after them.”

“Their mischief and mayhem know no bounds, so until you find that babysitter, don’t tell me what to do.”

I snicker at her snippy attitude. “I’m on it. I’m on it. Soon, you’ll be sipping mimosas with Aunt Hazel, missing your rugrats.”

“Ain’t it the truth.” She pats my cheek like I’m a boy and shuffles off to track down my children.

Turning, I make my way to the kitchen, my least favorite part of the house. Everything about this room reminds me of my wife. The track lighting and the professional range oven. The dark marble counters and fancy cookware. All shit she wanted but never used or appreciated.

At least now I can bathe in the enormous double sink without her bitching about it.

Stripping off my sweat-soaked t-shirt, I duck under the cold faucet in the kitchen, get my head and neck wet, and hope to God the sudden change in temperature doesn’t make me stroke out.

This is when Allison would complain I was raised in a barn, which isn’t far from the truth.

I’m twisting the faucet when I hear a familiar voice.

“E, you back here?” my brother calls out.

“Yeah. Kitchen.”

Footsteps sound down the hall as I reach out for a dry dishtowel. My eyes are stinging with sweat, so it takes me a few tries to find the right drawer.

Finally, I wrap my hands around a towel and bring it to my face just as a throat clears behind me.

By the time I dry my face and open my eyes, I come face to face with Logan, who looks like a cat prowling a cage of canaries. Then I see why.

He’s not alone.

“Thought I’d bring Kat and her sister so you could chat.”

He smirks as I take in the two women by his side.

“Hey, Kat.” I motion with my head.

“Hi, neighbor.” She gives me a sweet smile as she rubs her swollen stomach. Then she nudges the woman next to her. “This is my younger sister Tori.”

That’s when I finally get a good look at the sister. Fucking Logan.

My eyes dart back to my brother, who’s grinning so wide, I can count his molars. I glare at him, knowing full well what he’s doing right now. My brother is worse than my mother when it comes to matchmaking. Because if his expression is any indication, this is about more than finding a babysitter.

Some men are all about tits. Others like a girl’s ass. Me, I’m a hair man. So it sucked when Allison chopped hers off right after we got married and kept it short.

With a resigned sigh, I finally turn my full attention to Tori, whose long, dark mane tumbles over her shoulders like she’s some kind of mermaid. Dressed in a white tank top, cutoffs, and some weathered shitkickers, she looks ready to star in a dirty cowboy fantasy. Long legs. Curves for miles. So much bare skin. I barely hold in a groan.

Big, luminous hazel eyes blink back at me as she unabashedly studies my face, my chest, my tats… I look down, realizing I’m standing here only sporting jeans and dripping water and barn funk all over the kitchen floor.

I clear my throat. “Ladies, excuse me. Was out with the horses this morning. Had I known you were coming by…”

My brother laughs. “The horses are the only ones around here who can tolerate Ethan, since hospitality isn’t his strong suit, but he can make a damn fine barbecue.”

Kat frowns and turns to Logan. “I thought you said you scheduled this with him.”