The road becomes more deserted, only an occasional truck passing us, and Brody directs me well beyond the outskirts of town. “There’ll be a break in the fence on the right.” I see it and turn in carefully, feeling the bumps of metal beneath the truck. “Cattle guard,” he explains. “Keeps them from just waltzing out the front gate.”
“You leave it open?” I ask. I don’t know why, but that worries me. Like I know shit about taking care of cows, but that doesn’t sound safe. Is cattle theft still a thing? If so, a thief would just need to back up to the front door and rob ’em blind. Okay, maybe that’s an overreach, but I’m a total city slicker and proud of it.
Brody shakes his head. “No, I texted that I’m incoming so someone rode out to open it because I don’t have an opener with me. I’ll close it after you leave so we’re secure for the night.”
Relief washes through me. That the cattle are safe or that he is? As if he needs protection. I internally roll my eyes at my protective streak. It’s just habit. Protect Emily, the garage, Mom and Dad, the whole damn country.
We pull up to a two-story country house, white with black trim that matches the barn set off to the right. There are several trucks parked outside, and I can’t help but mentally take their measure. Mechanic’s habit.
“Shit.” Brody’s murmur is under his breath.
“What’s wrong?” I look around, looking for . . . something?
Two men appear in the doorway of the barn. I can see the grin on one from here, it’s that bright. The other guy looks thunderous, murderous.
“Who’s that?” I ask, on edge as I switch out my feet to put my left on the brake and right hovering over the gas. Old habits die hard, and if we need to move quickly, I’m fucking ready.
“My boss, Mark. His brother, Luke.” Brody’s voice has a tinge of affection to it, but I suspect he doesn’t realize it. “Come on, I’ll introduce you.”
The adrenaline coursing through my blood evaporates to be replaced with fizzy nerves as I throw the truck in park. I hop down and meet Brody at the back gate. Neither of the Barn Door Boys moves. That’s what I’m calling them because in my head, they’re a boy band and therefore the least intimidating guys ever, not that I’m scared of anyone, ever. Usually. Mostly.
You know how mirrors have that warning, ‘objects are closer than they appear’? Perspective is like that as we walk closer to the Barn Door Boys too. Only as we get closer, they get even larger.
Dear God, what the hell do they feed these guys out here? I know I’m small, have dealt with that disadvantage my whole life, and Brody’s big. No doubt about that. But I’d figured he was a one-off. Nope, there are at least two more just like him—tall, broad, muscled, with a healthy dose of asshole. Different versions of it—one cocky, one mean—but different sides of the same coin. Been there, done that with a veritable buffet of options when I got my uniform. Military guys all have a good streak of asshole-itis. Me included. You have to if you want to handle even a single enlisted day. And that thought makes me stand a little taller and face the Barn Door Boys head on with my own five-foot-nothing version of a swagger.
Brody makes introductions. The mean one is Mark and the cocky one is Luke. “Good to meet you, Rix.” Luke holds out his hand.
It definitely did not escape my notice that Brody introduced me as Rix, though he’s never called me the name everyone else does. I know it started as an easy way to irk me, but I like that he calls me Erica. A little. Fine, a lot.
“Mama Louise set an extra plate at dinner.” Mark’s simple statement is heavy with meaning.
Brody turns to me. “You are absolutely welcome to stay, but don’t feel like you have to. She’ll understand if you want to run. I sure as fuck did when she first got her claws into me.”
Luke snorts. “We were stuck with her from birth. You could’ve run. You chose to stay around.” Mark clears his throat, which could mean nothing, but I’m pretty sure he just subtly told Luke to ‘shut the fuck up.’
Brody’s eyes flash something dark and pained, but it’s gone quick as a blink so maybe I’m wrong because his answer is light and teasing. “Don’t let him fool you. Mama Louise is the scariest thing on this ranch and no one stands a chance against her.”
All three guys nod like that’s the God’s honest truth, and I’m curious as can be about a woman who has these monsters damn near quaking in their boots. “I could eat before my drive back, I guess. Though I’m a vegetarian. That gonna be a problem?”