Page 81 of Braving the Storm
I’ve hardly opened the door to the truck after we pull up at the new ranch we’ve arrived to work at, when Kayce’s brilliant smile hits me from the door to the stables ofRhodes Ranch. He’s wearing chaps and carries a massive saddle that would probably crush me if I attempted to lift it.
For a moment, I blink at him, entirely surprised to see him here, then my brain catches up, and I remember that he comes down from the mountain to presumably this ranch and one of the others for rodeo training—or, so I’ve been informed.
“Apparently wherever there are horses in this town, is where I hang out these days.” I chirp back at him and jerk my head in the direction of the man extracting himself from the driver’s side.
Storm doesn’t run off this time. Instead, he joins us around my side of the vehicle.
I’m sure my cheeks immediately turn neon pink because there are all too many things we have done on the hood of this truck, in the very same spot where Kayce is now leaning up against the faded paintwork to talk to us.
Oh god.
The giant cowboy flanking my other side flicks his blue eyes over the location and then back to me briefly. How the hell he’s managing to keep a straight face right now, I don’t know, but I’m damn squirming.
“Rhodes has got me taking a look at some of the new boarders arriving for spring.” Storm is hovering so close that my skin prickles, the heat of his broad chest sears my nape, and I have to clear my throat becausesurelyit must be obvious that there is so much more between us now than merely a few short days ago.
Now that we’re being seen in public together, I can’t help feeling as if there’s a giant sign hanging over my head with flashing lights and arrows pointing at me for the entire world to see.
Niece who worships her uncle’s cock… right here, folks!
“Sweet… I wish I could stay and chat, man… but there are broncs calling my name who want to try and take a piece out of me.” Kayce readjusts his grip on the saddle. “But I’ll see you guys tonight for dinner?”
“Sure.” The man at my side grunts.
“Rhodes is inside,” Kayce calls over his shoulder as he takes his chaps and golden cowboy charm off toward a group of other similarly-attired people who are gathered at the fence.
“Come on,city girl.” I’m nudged in the small of my back, with a devilish chuckle echoing his words.
“What? He’s been nothing but lovely to me since I got here.”
“As long as he doesn’t go getting any ideas.”
I tuck some loose hair behind my ear. “Honestly, Kayce is a good friend.”
Something skips around inside my chest that this impressive, gorgeous man might be a little jealous. Except, I don’t dare bring that up.
There are far too many things this man needs to do today, and me teasing him about Kayce Wilder is just silliness. I’m wearing his damn cuff, after all. If that’s not an assurance that I absolutely,one thousand percent, only have eyes for him, I don’t know what is.
“This isn’t a cattle ranch then?” I ask, looking around at the seemingly endless rows of stalls and horses.
“Just horses here, ma’am.” A rich voice greets us. “I’ll leave the cattle to the cowboys who like running around ropin’ stock all day.”
The man who strides over holds his charcoal color hat in one hand and drags the other through his hair. He’s got that look about him, one that says he’d prefer to be around these creatures all day, while somewhat tolerating people on the side.
As he goes to set his hat back in place, I catch sight of a flash of white curled through the front of his unruly dark curls. It’s dashing and unusual, even though he’s probably around the same age as Storm—or a little older even, now that I’m seeing the salt and pepper of his short beard up close—but that prominent streak of white isn’t because of graying, it looks like it has always been there.
“Briar, this is Lucas Rhodes.”
“Pleased to meet you.” He brushes off dirt against the side of his jeans, then extends a large hand to wrap my palm in his with a firm shake.
“The newcomers are down this way.” Just like that, he steps aside and indicates for us to follow him.
God, I could hug this man for not asking questions about me, who I am, or how I fit into this picture. Obviously this place is busy, and I’m guessing since he’s got plenty of jobs on the go, that doesn’t leave time for chit-chatting.
Although, from the look of him, I suspect he’s not exactly atalkereither.
As the two figures ahead of me mutter between themselves in gruff tones about their horsey business, I’m going much slower. Taking my time to peek in on each of the horses and see their names written up next to their stalls filled with shavings and hay.
Some are happy to ignore me. Others swing their long necks my way with curious eyes. A couple hang right over as far as they can reach, showing me impressive rows of teeth as they contort their lips to try and get a good look at what might be hidden inside my coat pockets.