Page 24

On weekends, this gig usually falls to me and Cash since we give our employees the time off, and honestly, neither of us has ever minded.

There’s something grounding about doing it.

It’s simple, routine, no room for overthinking and the quiet cheeps of their little voices is like our own personal sound machine.

Plus, we take lots of breaks for pets and snuggles along the way.

“Ugh, I simply can’t with these,” Scarlett murmurs, holding a tiny chick up to her face and nuzzling her nose into its downy fluff.

I laugh, dropping the last scoop of fresh wood chips into the tray and adding a little extra for warmth. “I know. It’s the way their little bodies fit perfectly in your hands. Like they’re designed for maximum heart-melting efficiency.”

“I just can’t believe they grow into big hens,” she says, shivering like the thought’s too much to process. “I’ve never been a chicken person, but I think you’ve converted me to liking chicks.”

“I get it,” I say, brushing my hands off on my jeans.

“And when they’re done egg laying, you let them live out the rest of their days here peacefully?”

I nod. “Yep. We’re a no-kill farm.”

“It’s beautiful,” she says smiling as she sets the chick back into their temporary enclosure, then spins to face me with a grin that’s all mischief. “So. What do you want to know about my big brother? I’m sure you’re dying to ask me something.”

I choke on a laugh. “I’m not sure I should ask. Feels like going behind his back.”

She studies me for a beat, her smile softening into something more curious, like she’s trying to figure me out.

But I mean it. Sure, I’m dying to know more about him—who wouldn’t be?

I want to know about his wild, cowboy days riding bulls and how he got into it.

I want to know how medical school was and if the transition was hard going from the circuit to such a demanding career.

I want to know what his home life was like and why he’s so opposed to marriage and a family, but there’s a line I don’t want to cross.

Digging into his past with his sister feels like trespassing, like prying open a door he’s kept shut on me for a reason.

Plus, the more I know about Hayes, the more dangerous this whole situation becomes.

We’ve already seen each other naked once before.

Now we’re living together and last night we were toeing the line between acquaintances who married strictly to get a property and two people who want to get naked together to scratch an itch. Lines get blurry fast.

Friendship? I can handle that. But falling for him? Hearing about his childhood wounds, the soft spots he hides under all that gruffness. That’s a risk my romantic heart isn’t ready to take.

Scarlett tilts her head. “I know we just met, but I like you.”

I grin. “I like you too.”

“So, what’s next on the agenda?”

“You need a nap or anything? I can drop you back at the house, get you some fresh sheets. I bet you’re exhausted.”

“You know, that’s not a bad idea. I wonder if my brother’s still asleep.”

We pile into the utility vehicle, making the short drive back to the Mayberry Manor as Scarlett chatters about the ranch she grew up on with Hayes and their brother Seth.

It’s massive, thousands of acres somewhere in South Carolina, all cattle and sprawling land, just a few hours’ drive away.

She tells me she’s headed to New York City next to visit friends but wanted to stop here for the week since she hasn’t seen Hayes since he finished his residency in Charlotte.

The drive is short, and I’m mostly lost in thought while trying to pay attention, but when we pull up to the house, it takes a minute for my brain to register what I’m seeing on the front porch because whoa.

Hayes is sitting in one of the chairs, and he’s— holy damn —wearing nothing but a pair of loose gray sweatpants his legs spread wide. His light brown hair’s a mess, like he just rolled out of bed, and he’s cradling a mug of coffee in his massive hands like it’s something fragile.

No shirt on. Just sun-kissed skin and muscles carved by years of bull riding, every inch of him a walking contradiction—rough edges and soft, sleepy vulnerability with careful eyes.

The morning sun catches on his abs, casting shadows that map out every line and dip, a roadmap I’d happily get lost in pointing down towards a trail of hair on his lower abs to what I know is beneath that fabric.

The way he’s sitting—legs spread like he owns the air between them—makes it impossible to ignore what’s packed into those pants.

My brain short-circuits. I’m suddenly very aware of the fact that we share a house. A kitchen. A front door. Plumbing. The only shower that’s upstairs.

Scarlett hops out before the vehicle even stops, sprinting toward him with a gleeful shout.

Hayes stands to catch her, his arms wrapping around her effortlessly as she jumps into his chest. I follow slowly, trying not to stare, but failing spectacularly.

His gaze snags mine over the top of his sister’s head, and for one brief, blistering second, I’m convinced he can hear the lust-filled thoughts that are rattling around in my mind.

I want his lips on mine.

I want his lips on my body.

I want his lips between my legs.

I want to see him naked.

I wet my lips with my tongue without thinking. His arms drop from Scarlett, but his eyes stay locked on mine for just a beat too long before he looks away.

“I see you two have already met,” he says, ruffling his sister’s hair affectionately.

“Oh yeah. Regan and I are basically best friends now,” Scarlett chirps. “She’s super cool. Also, you didn’t mention she was so hot. ”

Hayes shakes his head, throwing an arm around her shoulders with an amused grunt.

“That didn’t feel like a detail I needed to disclose.”

My cheeks flush, but I manage a smile because that sounded a lot like a compliment. “Good morning. How’d you sleep?”

“Better than the motel,” he says, taking a sip of his coffee. “But I already ordered a new bed. Some shop in town’s delivering it today. Feels weird sleeping on Mrs. Mayberry’s though I’ve slept on worse.”

I clasp my hands in front of me, unsure where to put my body or my thoughts. “That’s great. Um, I’ll just head inside and give you two some space to catch up. I’m going to make up Scarlett’s bed so she can take a nap.”

“I can do it,” Scarlett offers, but I’m already halfway through the door.

“That’s okay. You talk,” I say over my shoulder. “I’ve got to head to the brewery soon anyway. Lunch rush is coming up.”

I slip inside before she can argue, my heart doing a weird little tap dance against my ribs.

I take the stairs two at a time, eager to shake off the heat that’s simmering under my skin.

But when I hit the top landing, I pause.

It’s like I can smell him everywhere in this house now—faint traces of coffee, soap, and leather scented cologne .

My feet move before my brain catches up, and suddenly I’m standing in the doorway of his room, just… looking.

It’s mostly empty. Colt and I cleared out all Mrs. Mayberry’s old furniture yesterday before Hayes arrived, leaving only a metal four-poster bed frame and her old mattress.

But it feels full. Like he’s claimed the space without even trying.

In the corner is a black cowboy hat and a pile of the dirty scrubs he was wearing when he came home last night.

Did he sleep naked? Just a few feet away from me?

I shake my head, forcing myself down the hall to the guest room where my belongings are stored.

Time to stop thinking about our living situation and about him.

Easier said than done.