Page 4

GEOFFREY

It’s been three days of working alongside Brynn Rose in this goat pen and I think I might be losing my damn mind. I can't take my eyes off her. Hell, I never could.

"Hand me that rope, would you?" She calls out, stretched up on her tiptoes trying to secure a banner to the top rail of the fence. Her shirt rides up just enough to show a sliver of smooth skin on her round curves. The sight has me forgetting what the hell I'm supposed to be doing with my hands.

"Got it." I move behind her. I’m close enough to catch the scent of her shampoo. It’s something sweet and familiar that makes me want to bury my face in that cascade of long hair.

When I reach over her to tie off the rope, my chest brushes against her back. I swear I feel her shiver and I know that this electricity between us isn’t just me. My hands work the knot while my mind wanders to other uses for rope.

I settle on an image of myself binding those delicate wrists above her head while I explore every inch of skin she's been hiding under her clothes. The thought sends blood rushing south and my manhood pulsates in response. I have to shift my stance to hide the evidence of exactly what direction my thoughts have taken. I might be desperate for her, but I’m not a fucking creep.

"You're good with knots," she breathes, her voice a little husky.

"I'm good with my hands in general," I murmur against her ear, letting the double meaning hang between us. "Lots of practice working with... difficult things that need a gentle but firm touch."

She turns in my arms. We're face to face with barely an inch between us for what feels like the millionth time in our lives.

Her pupils dilate. Her lips part slightly.

When her tongue darts out to wet her bottom lip, I nearly groan out loud.

Brynn Rose has been torturing me since we were in high school.

"Geoffrey," she whispers. My name on her lips sounds like the sweetest kind of sin.

"Yeah?"

"We should probably..." She trails off.

But we aren’t kids anymore and I’m not letting her off the hook that easily.

"Should probably what?" I ask, my hands settling on her hips, thumbs tracing small circles through the denim. "Because I can think of a lot of things we probably should do."

Her eyes flash up to mine. Then she steps back.

Brynn Rose creates that familiar distance between us and red flags go off somewhere deep inside of me.

I hate that practiced smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes.

It makes something sharp twist in my gut.

It's the same smile my ex used to give me when she was already planning her exit but didn't want me to know it yet.

She shakes her head and I watch her rebuild her walls in real time. "We should probably get to it."

"Yeah, probably."

I always thought I’d be one of the first of my brothers to get married.

I’m a wife-guy with no wife. But dammit if I’m not the worst picker of women in the whole family.

Well, Pa might be worse. I don’t have any random secret kids running around.

But I’ve got to be at least second in line for the title.

I watch Brynn Rose smooth her hair and check her phone. She’s doing anything to avoid eye contact. I realize that this is how it always starts for me. The careful distance. The polite deflection. The slow retreat. Waking up to the whole world knowing what an idiot you are on a podcast.

My connection with Brynn doesn’t feel like anything I’ve ever experienced.

I want to believe that Brynn Rose is different and that the way her breath caught when I touched her was real…

But I've been wrong before. Dead wrong. And the cost of being wrong again might be more than I can afford. It’s probably for the best that she keeps her distance.

"Geoffrey?" Brynn's voice cuts through my spiraling thoughts. "You okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Yeah girl, just thinking," I say, forcing a smile.

She studies my face for a long moment. I wonder whether she can tell that I'm already bracing for impact. I’m already preparing for the moment she decides I'm not enough.

"What are you thinking about?" she asks quietly.

You. Us. How history has a way of repeating itself, especially when you're stupid enough to hope it won't.

"What are you, my therapist? Have you been talking to Danner?” I let out a humorless chuckle. “Come on, these goats ain’t gonna build this backdrop themselves.”

Without another word, we get back to work.

I’ve never been more sure of the fact that having Brynn Rose here is a dream and a nightmare rolled into one. She's sexy as hell. Always has been. But she's kept herself at arm's length since I’ve known her. That hasn't changed one bit either.

Maybe that's for the best.

Letting someone in gives them a better shot at destroying you. I've had enough destruction to last a lifetime. It’s better to keep my guard up. Love and lies can look identical from the outside. I can’t trust myself to know the difference.

Brynn Rose knows me. But I sure as hell only know parts of her. I watch her drag a hay bale across the pen. I rush to help her even though she’s too stubborn to ask for help.

We keep at it until the sound of tires crunching on gravel catches my attention.

A pearl white Cadillac pulls across the gravel, onto the grass, and drives right up to the fence line. I don't need to see the driver to know exactly who it is. The car door slams with the kind of dramatic flair that could only belong to one person in this town.

Brynn Rose exhales with a huff. "Mom, hi."

She immediately runs a hand down the back of her head and smooths her hair.

Then Brynn Rose makes her way toward the Cadillac.

I watch her entire demeanor shift. The confident woman who was just flirting with me over rope knots transforms into someone smaller and even more careful, if that’s possible.

"Brynn Rose, what is this background?" Brandi Rose emerges from the car like she's stepping onto a red carpet instead of a dusty ranch.

She gestures wildly at the goat pen. Her collection of gold bangles catch the sunlight.

"This isn't going to work at all. I thought you were on top of this situation. "

“She’s done an excellent job.” I take a step forward instinctively. I’m ready to put myself between Brynn Rose and whatever verbal assault is coming her way.

“It’s okay.” Brynn Rose nods as she brushes past me with a subtle shake of her head. “Thank you.”

Every protective instinct I have is screaming at me to intervene. But I get the message loud and clear. This isn't my fight. So I do the only thing left for me to do. I back off and let them handle their family drama.

Watching the careful dance between Brynn Rose and her mother's moods is a painful sight. I figure it’s another reason I probably shouldn't be pursuing Brynn Rose.

Imagine having Brandi Rose as a mother-in-law. The woman treats her daughter like a personal assistant. I don’t think I could take it watching someone treat my girl this way on the regular. It’s killing me now.

To take my mind off the shit show unraveling in front of me, I pull out my phone.

I turn my attention back to the other task at hand and scroll through our local Facebook group.

Nothing stays a secret in this town. There have to be clues about the identity of that damned Boots and Bitching podcast host.

I flip open my notes app and review what I have so far.

The voice is definitely disguised. Some kind of filter or modulator that makes it impossible to tell if it's male or female.

The insider knowledge is too detailed to be from an outsider.

This person lives here, works on the ranch, or at the very least grew up here.

They know about family dynamics that aren't exactly public knowledge.

They know about business dealings that happen behind closed doors.

They seem to have a particular fascination with my family's personal lives.

None of it amounts to much of anything concrete. But in Sagebrush Creek, it seems impossible that this monster of a podcaster could be hiding in plain sight. Yet here we are.

"Geoffrey!" Brynn Rose’s voice cuts through my thoughts. When I look up, I see Brandi Rose has retreated to her Cadillac.

"Everything okay?" I ask, though the tight expression on Brynn's face tells me it's anything but.

She forces a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Just peachy. If you have a minute, we are ready to put some muscle behind these goat-proofing modifications."

“Anything for you.” I flash her a cheesy smile.

And just like that, we're back to pretending that the tension between us is only about livestock management and yoga props. We work from a checklist while Brandi Rose sits in her air conditioned car.

She emerges when the sunsets… And that’s when Choke makes his move.