Catch Twenty-Two (Westover Prep 2)

I do my best to hide my smile as Rowdy’s eyes dart between the two of us. I see it the second he thinks something more than work is going on between the two of us, and I know Zeke can see it, too. Yet, he doesn’t clarify anything after Nan makes her excuses and heads back into the house.

Zeke rattles off the list of things left to be done for the day, and surprisingly, Rowdy doesn’t pull rank the way I imagined he would. He just nods his head, tips his hat at me once more, and gets to work.

***

“Like this,” Rowdy says as he places his hands over mine and helps me to reposition the pliers I’m using to help repair the fence.

“Wow,” I say in shock when it works much easier now than how I was doing it earlier.

My gaze darts to Zeke, and I see a frown on his lips, but at the same time, he could’ve been just as helpful. He’s been letting me do things the hard way for weeks, not bothering once to speak up and offer assistance.

“Wouldn’t want you to hurt these pretty hands of yours.” Rowdy pulls the glove off of my right hand, running his thumb down the middle of my palm over the red mark left from using the tool wrong for so long.

Zeke grunts, slamming the driver over the t-post much harder than necessary. He refuses to look our way, and irritation has been rolling off of him since Rowdy offered to help us with the fence as our final chore of the day.

“Is he your boyfriend?” Rowdy asks on a whisper after I pull my hand from his.

It takes me longer than it should to answer, and a knowing glint lights his pretty blue eyes.

He winks at me as I finally manage to shake my head. “Good to know.”

“You’re too old for me,” I spit, feeling like a fool the second the words leave my mouth.

Rowdy’s lips turn up in a mischievous grin. “Is that so?”

“Yeah.” I kick the dirt with the toe of my boot. “I mean, that and I’m not interested. I mean you seem nice and all, but I’m leaving in a couple weeks.”

“Would you be telling him this if he wanted to date you?” The new foreman hitches his thumb over his shoulder to Zeke who has already driven four more t-posts.

“He’s not… it’s not like that between us.”

“But you want it to be.”

“No.” I shake my head a little too hard to be believable.

“You know what I think?” He takes a step closer. “I think he likes you.”

“He doesn’t,” I assure him as he lifts his palm to my cheek.

Jesus. Is he going to kiss me? I haven’t even known this man for twenty-four hours.

“City Girl!” Zeke yells. “How about a little help?”

“What did I tell you?” Rowdy winks at me before taking a step back. “Let’s make him jealous.”

My cheeks are flushed as I step around him to help Zeke. I wouldn’t consider myself a manipulative person, but the offer sticks in my head.

Zeke doesn’t insult me when I make it over to him. He doesn’t ask me what the hell just happened with the new guy. In fact, he refuses to make eye contact with me at all. The only thing that even hints at his irritation is his insistence on needing help and then proceeding not to let me do a damn thing the rest of the day. He moves faster than me, making it impossible to get ahead of him to help in any way.

Each time I look at Rowdy in frustration, he merely winks at me like his grand plan is already in motion and working like a charm.

When the work is done, we head back to the barn, Zeke and I in his truck and Rowdy alone in his. Zeke doesn’t say a word on the drive back, and I don’t offer anything in return. He doesn’t turn the engine off once we’re back in front of Nan’s.

“He’s too old for you,” Zeke says when I tug open the door.

“I’m old enough to make my own choices.” I don’t know which way to play this so I figure a non-answer will be best.

“I’m heading into town for that chicken feed.”

I nod. “See you at supper.”

He doesn’t answer, and he doesn’t show up later either.

For the first time in two weeks, I spend the evening on the front porch alone with my eyes focused on the tiny speck of his porch light in the distance.Chapter 15Zeke

“You don’t have to leave so early,” Mom says as I enter the kitchen, looking for something quick to eat before heading over to the ranch.

I don’t tell her that Rowdy’s overeager ass gets to the property thirty minutes earlier than what has been my routine this summer. Although she hasn’t asked about Frankie since the night I blew up at the supper table, I can still see the sparkle of hope in her tired eyes when she thinks I’m not looking.