Catching the Cowboy (Circle B Ranch 2) - Page 24

It’s common for cows to stand in the bodies of water during the hot months since it helps them cool off, but the babies are sometimes the worst because they go out too far and can’t get back to the bank. The little bastard was screaming at the top of his lungs, and we just so happened to be doing our afternoon checks. Together, Grayson and I carried the little asshole to the grass and made sure he was okay before driving off. Doesn’t help our situation, though. We officially smell like cow slobber, pond mush, and sweat.

By the time we make it back to the shop, we both stink, my feet are soaked, and I’m ready for a drink.

“Wanna go to the bar tonight?”

Grayson looks at me. “Like this?”

“Hell no! I need a shower,” I tell him, taking off my hat and setting it on my lap.

“I think I’m gonna take a rain check. It’s been a hectic fuckin’ day, and I’m exhausted. Gotta love Mondays.”

I give him a smile and look down at my boots and pants. “Yeah, I totally understand. Never expected to be doing half that shit today. Every day’s an adventure on the ranch,” I remind him. The unpredictability is one of the things I love the most about my job. There’s no monotony. Honestly, I don’t know how people sit behind a computer at a desk all day. It sounds like eternal hell. I’d go crazy not being in the country.

We give Alex the rundown of what happened, then I hop in my truck and drive home. At times like this, I wished I carried an extra set of clothes around. I’m forced to drive back with the windows down because I can’t stand the smell of myself. Once I’m home, I see Rowan’s gift on the counter and smile before going to the bathroom. She’s working tonight. I made sure to find out this morning from John. I’ve been waiting all weekend to see her to give her that present.

I take off my clothes and turn on the hot water. Stepping inside, I allow the warmth to soothe my sore muscles from carrying a one hundred pound calf today.

After I’m done washing every inch of my body, I brush my teeth and get dressed. I run my fingers through my hair and throw on a baseball cap, then spray on some cologne because I know it drives Rowan wild. It always has, ever since we were teenagers. She pretends to be immune, but I’ve noticed her reactions. The thought of seeing her tonight causes excitement to bubble inside me. No woman has ever made me feel like this, and as much as I try to shake it, I can’t. Rowan Bishop has been in my veins since I was fourteen years old and tasted her lips against mine. Even though we were so young, I’ve never been able to forget the electricity that streamed between us. It’s still there too.

Before leaving, I grab the gift along with my keys and head into town. I couldn’t stop thinking about her the entire weekend. I saw a picture she posted on Facebook of her and her cousins at the Honky Tonk in San Angelo and thought about making the drive, but I knew better. The last thing I’d want to do is ruin her birthday by showing up unannounced. She looked beautiful as can be, though, and I know all eyes were on her at the bar. There’s no doubt she was the prettiest woman there.

When I park in front of the Circle B Saloon, I see Rowan’s car on the side. I sit and stare inside the building, watching as she pours a beer for an older guy and then smiles sweetly as she sets it down on a napkin. She laughs at something he says and just looking at her nearly takes my breath away. Without even trying, she’s as pretty as can be with her hair pulled up into a tight ponytail on top of her head.

Knowing I can’t watch her from my truck all night, I turn off the ignition, grab the present, and go inside. As soon as I walk in and sit at the bar, our gazes lock. I smile, and she narrows her eyes at me, then at the bright-colored wrapping paper. A moment later, she walks over, places a napkin in front of me, and treats me like every other customer.

“Hi, would you like a drink menu?” she asks, properly batting her eyelashes.

I snort at her sarcastic tone. “Give me a Bud.”

She glances down at the box. “What’s that?”

I push it toward her, grinning wide. “I got you something.”

“Why?” She tilts her head. “Is it a gag gift?”

“You’ll see,” I challenge, moving it closer to her.

“I trust you as far as I can throw you, and we both know how much that is,” Rowan retorts as she walks away and grabs a frosty mug from the cooler. She sets down an ice-cold beer in front of me before snagging the box.

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