Page 5 of The First Day of Breeding Season (Wildfire Ranch #4)

brYNN

It’s hard to catch my breath after Drew storms down the hall, his heavy footsteps not stopping until he’s out of the house.

I swear I feel the walls shake as he marches off the porch, but that’s not real. He doesn’t even slam the door, something I braced myself for, but it doesn’t come.

I don’t know how I know this, but I’m sure Drew Lowry’s bark is worse than his bite.

The tattoo around his wrist reinforces that belief, because I have a wild, fluttery feeling in my chest that I think I know who gave it to him…and if I’m right, then I know he might be a gruff man of few words, but his heart is made of pure gold.

Despite his abruptness, and the curt way he talks over me, I’m still excited to work with him this breeding season. I just have to forget how warm his skin is, how strong his fingers feel around mine.

And focus on the goals that are going to get me to the next step in the Five Year Brynn Plan.

When I started at Climax Springs Community College, I thought I might go into horticulture.

That’s how I met his brother. Dr. Noah Lowry was the first professor to take a real interest in my career, and while I aced his class, I confessed to him that my real passion was in large animals.

If I could have afforded to go to veterinary school, I would have.

He encouraged me to take more ranch management classes. “My brother is the best cattle breeder I’ve ever met, and he doesn’t have any schooling. If you ever want to study under him, just let me know and I’ll make the introduction.”

He said that to me three years ago, and I never forgot it. I didn’t take him up on it, though. I told myself it was silly, it was fear standing in the way of going for what I really wanted, but now that I’ve finally met the man, I know I wasn’t wrong to wait.

Deep down, I knew I would only have one chance to impress a rancher like Drew Lowry.

I was right.

He’s going to be a hard man to get through to, especially with this complicating layer of mutual attraction sizzling just under the surface.

But I’m more sure than ever that this intensive project will be worth it. How many people my age have a summer shadowing Drew Lowry on their resume?

Once I’m sure he’s long gone, I go back out to my car and get the rest of my stuff.

The first thing I unpack is my Five Year Brynn Plan binder.

Right before I left the dorms this morning, I got an envelope from a local fertility clinic, and the contents of that envelope need to be added to the After Graduation section.

I know it’s putting the cart a tiny bit before the horse, because I don’t have a job yet, but I know I’ll be able to get a good position with the experience from this internship.

Maybe the carrot I need to dangle for myself while working with the gruff cowboy is the baby I think I can have next summer if everything goes according to plan.

And no matter what, I believe in myself.

After all, I’m all that I have. I’ve been on my own since I was seventeen. I worked hard to get scholarships and grants to cover my schooling, and I didn’t just survive, but I found a real calling.

“Brynn?” From the front of the house, I hear a woman call out for me by name.

“I’m in here,” I call back.

I shove the fertility clinic envelope in my backpack, then go to greet the housekeeper.

“I’m Inez,” she says with a slight accent. “Drew says you are joining us for the summer. Welcome to Wildfire Ranch. I make dinner every night in the bunkhouse, and there are also meals in the fridge and freezer here.”

“Thank you. Um, do you know what I should do this afternoon? Does anyone need help? Can I help you make dinner?”

“No, but thank you. I’ll ask Raul if he needs an extra pair of hands this afternoon, but…” She trails off.

I wince. “I might be in the way?”

She lifts her shoulder. “They have their systems. It’s hard to jump in.”

“I understand. I have to unpack, anyway.”

“Of course.” She gives me her phone number and Raul’s as well. “My husband is a better person to call sometimes. Drew is very busy.”

It sounds like a diplomatic way of saying, don’t bug the owner.

Oh, I won’t.

I’m not giving up on my research project, but my new plan is to stay out of Drew Lowry’s way as much as possible.

It doesn’t take me long to unpack and familiarize myself with the main parts of the house.

The porch actually wraps all the way around the main floor, veranda-style, and I find the door closest to my new room.

There’s a hammock hanging from anchors in the covered roof with a view of the wildflower dotted field plus a good breeze, plus the WiFi signal seems great, so I grab my backpack, planning to do some work.

But when I return to the back porch, I no longer have it to myself.

Drew Lowry is climbing the steps at the far end.

And he’s peeling off his sweat-soaked t-shirt.

He doesn’t see me at first, because the shirt is over his face, so I have a shocked moment to just look at his broad, bare chest.

He looks even bigger without his shirt on, heavily muscled and well-padded on top of that. He’s tan, suggesting he takes his shirt off outside a lot— stop staring, Brynn —and crisp, dark hair dusts across his chest and narrows down the center of his torso all the way to a heavy belt buckle.

Seriously, stop staring.

I suck in an audible breath and he jerks to a stop.

All that hard, warm flesh flexes as he drops his arms.

The screen door slaps shut behind me.

I swallow hard and jerk my gaze up, only to find his eyes also doing a sweeping path down my body.

His glaring inspection goes all the way down to my faded cowboy boots. I resist the urge to squirm as he looks at me.

The oddest tingling sensation climbs my legs as he slowly lifts his head, dragging his gaze upward.

Something in me stretches under the weight of his stare. Not fear. Not even embarrassment. Just… awareness.

“You’re back,” I breathe.

“I didn’t know you’d be out here,” he says gruffly. Then he balls his shirt up in his hands. “I was just going to shower, then come find you. We need to get you a horse for tomorrow.”

“Right.” I nod happily. “Yes, okay. Great. And maybe we can talk about why I want to shadow the work you’re doing and how I can be helpful. I’m very eager to be as helpful as possible.”

Don’t sound so desperate, Brynn. Be serious and professional.

“ Okay,” he says slowly.

I press on, pulling a folder of research material out of my backpack. “As you know, breeding is an area of significant interest for me. Based on our emails, I collected some articles I wanted to discuss with you and?—”

“Yeah, okay, listen,” he says, interrupting me. “Ranching in practice isn’t the same as the theory that you’ve studied. Or, um…” His eyes drops to my shirt, which I still haven’t changed out of, and his gaze turns hooded. Heavy. “It’s not fun .”

“I understand,” I promise. “No fun expected.”

He doesn’t look like he believes me.

And he’s looking at my shirt again. I swear I can feel his eyes tracing the roundness of my breasts.

Which he really shouldn’t do, because it makes my thighs all hot and my sex starts to ache, which isn’t professional at all.

“I’ll dress appropriately,” I hear myself say.

And to my horror, the words have an edge to them.

Noooo, Brynn, don’t be snarky. Don’t ? —

Genuine shock floods his expression. “What you’re wearing is fine,” he says, tripping over his words like they’re loose gravel. “I’m— I’m not gonna tell you what you can’t— But we are— You should know, we’ll get incredibly sweaty.”

“Sweaty?” My eyebrows go up.

He swears under his breath again and gestures at his bare chest. He’s definitely…glistening. “Don’t wear anything you’re fond of.”

“Right,” I whisper. It’s hard to look away from all that skin. He’s perfect, really. Thick slabs of muscle, long limbs.

“I—” He shakes his head and steps closer. “I’ll look at your research. If you want.”

Confused, I hand over the folder. “I don’t want to impose. I know I can be a lot. It’s just that I get excited and?—”

“It’s fine.” He squeezes the folder, then jerks his head at a door behind him.

Right right right. He’s going to have a shower. And I should change for riding. I pick up my backpack and step toward my door, the one that leads to my bedroom. On the other side of the house from him, but apparently, sharing the same part of the back porch. “I’ll meet you in the horse barn, then?”

His mouth firms, like he doesn’t like that, but then he jerks his head in agreement before disappearing into the house.

I have so many questions for him. I want to know how he splits up the herd for breeding. What range of due date targets he prefers, and what bull-management practices work best in the summer pasture.

The urge to chase him and ask him all of those questions and more is almost overwhelming, which really is a sign that I need a better work-life balance.

You can’t chase your boss into the shower, Brynn.

Which is a shame, really.

I bet he’s beautiful with water sluicing over him.