For most guys, I suspect it’d be the opposite. A woman flirting pretty hard-core, wearing barely a stitch of clothing, and looking gorgeous should be a slam dunk. But no.
I think about how to answer. “At the bar? No.” See, the truth, just a little slick.
“So you’re not going to see her again?” Katelyn asks that one, and I know she’s wondering if she’ll see the dark-haired woman. Since Katelyn works as the event planner at the resort, and the area has grown so much, so fast, with tourists coming in and out, she sees a whole different crowd than we do way out here in the country.
The only way I’d see Lil Bit is if I go get the truck, but I can work my way around that. ‘Busy, busy, busy with the cattle and goats, can’t go to the far side of the mountain today. Sorry, Mark. Send Brutal.’ I frown. That’s a good plan, actually. I don’t consider why I want to send my scary as fuck brother who’s head over heels for Allyson and not my single brother, Bobby. Nope, don’t think about that at all.
“Nah, won’t see her. Just a bar conversation.”
Katelyn sags, pouting. Mark looks at me like I kicked his puppy. He doesn’t even have a puppy, but he’s pissed at me for making Katelyn sad. I swallow the rest of my tea in one smooth gulp, knowing I’ll regret it at five a.m.
“I got winner,” I call to Brutal and Cooper.
The boy hoots so I know exactly who’s winning. He always wins. At first, we let him. Now, he’s just that good. Like one of those kids who can do angles and arcs and wind drag in his head, and adjust his throw accordingly.
I get up and make a show of stretching out my arms, windmilling them back and forth. “You’re going down, kid.”
He stands as tall and wide as his skinny frame will allow. “Bring it on, Uncle Brody.”
He does a damn fine impression of Brutal’s low grumble. Hell, of any of us. We’re cowboys, the real deal, through and through. And though Cooper might not have had a father for a long time, he’s got a hell of a one in Brutal and a herd of uncles who are making sure he’s flush with male role models. Maybe not the best ones, but he’s got ’em, nevertheless.
“It’s on.”
“My money’s on Cooper.” James’s shit-eating grin says he knows exactly who’s going to win this game. And it’s not me.
“Nobody’s gonna take that bet, Son. We all know Cooper’s a shoo-in.” Mama Louise laughs at James, but I hear her instruction to me as clear as if she were the mob boss of a redneck mafia . . . the boy wins one way or another. She’s a Grandma-Bear, that one. Definitely glue, which scares the shit out of me. I already lost one mom. Can’t bear to lose another.
Chapter 3
Brody
“How did I end up getting stuck with this job? Should’ve sent Brutal.”
I know the grumbling makes me sound like a whiny ass, but when Shay radioed that someone from Cole Automotive called and said Bessie was ready, I went into defensive mode. Unfortunately, Brutal has plans with Allyson tonight and woman trumps truck. Asshole.
I’d tried James without luck, but before I could attempt a sweet-talking deal with Luke, the girls had figured out there was something I was trying to get out of and Mark had stuck me with the assignment. He’d said it was because it was my fault Bessie was on the other side of the mountain, but I’m near certain Shay was conspiring.
And she doesn’t even know about Lil Bit. But she knows me.
So here I sit in the passenger seat of Sophie’s big brown truck, heading to the far side of the mountain. She got wrangled into this fair and square, at least. She’s delivering a foster goat back to its owner. Right now, Vincent van Goat is in the back of the truck in a kennel cage large enough that he could stand up and prance around, but he’s curled up in the hay, enjoying the wind in his hair.
“Vincent doing better?”
Should be an easy enough question, but Sophie looks at me out of the corner of her eye. “This what we’re doing? Talking shop?”
I pull my hat off, curl the brim, and put it back on again, which must be some kind of tell because Sophie smiles like I just spilled my deepest, darkest secrets.
“Vincent’s doing fine. His ear’s all healed up, and he’s ready to get back to his herd. Thankfully, he seems to be hearing just fine.” She chuckles at her own Van Gogh-slash-goat joke.
Vincent van Goat came to us a couple of weeks ago after a coyote got onto his owner’s land. Vincent’s ear had been the only serious injury thanks to the rancher’s herd dog, but it’d been pretty serious at first. If Vincent hadn’t been the rancher’s daughter’s pet, he probably would’ve been sent to greener pastures, but Sophie promised the girl to save him, and somehow, she did.