Page 15 of Cowboy and the Convict

"I know, but you do what you have to do, right?" Janie went to work slicing through the log as soon as he finished. "And technically, you don't get any days off. So don't give me shit."

Devon worked down the line, thinking about what she said. Not about him not getting any days off—it was true—but about how you do what you have to do. "Why do you have to work six days a week?"

Janie was quiet for a minute, slicing as her jaw clenched. "Not all of us found our way into happy little marriages and happy little lives."

Her assumption chafed a wound he still carried. One he couldn't even begin to know how to heal. It almost felt selfish to try. What right did he have to be upset over the way things had gone? Probably none.

"And what else do I have to do?" She sliced through another roll, continuing to work at his side. "You've seen what happens when I try to go out."

"I've seen what happens when you try to go out under less than ideal circumstances." He corrected. "I would assume, under normal circumstances, you end up being the life of the party."

Janie laughed and it was just as genuine as the one she offered earlier. "If you think I am ever the life of a party, then you clearly have not been paying attention."

Now was his turn to laugh. "I don't know. I can imagine you’re pretty entertaining when you want to be." He finished up the last square of dough and circled the island again. "And I bet it’s funny as hell to watch those ranch hands try to hit on you."

Janie groaned. "Oh God." She shook her head. "They're all like, twenty-two, and they don't understand why I'm not flattered they want to crawl into my pants." She finished slicing the last roll and leaned against the counter, shooting him a look of disbelief. "Do you have any idea how bad most twenty-two-year-old guys are in bed?"

"I do not, and I don't know that I want to hear about it, because I feel like I'm going to retroactively get my feelings hurt." He started lining cinnamon rolls into a pan. "But I’ll take your word for it."

Janie studied him a second before circling the island to begin adding peaches. "You know, you’re really starting to kind of annoy me."

He scoffed, adding more cinnamon rolls to a pan. "I'm glad to hear you're so grateful for my help."

Janie shot him a scowl. "Don't get your panties in a bunch." She added a layer of peaches to the next pan. "You're just turning out to not be as big of an asshole as I initially thought."

Devon snorted. “And you find that annoying?”

“Very.” Janie’s tone was dry, but her lips hinted at a smile.

He stared at the side of her face, taking in the delicate slope of her nose and the fullness of her mouth as she refused to look his way. "I'm going to take that as a compliment."

One of her dark brows angled as she continued dropping slices of peach into place, that twitch of a smile still teasing her lips. "You shouldn't." Her eyes finally came his way. "You were a pretty big asshole to me the first few times we met, so it didn't take a lot to slightly redeem yourself."

7

Janie

"YOU LOOK WAY too fucking happy for this early in the morning." Janie took in Mariah's bright smile and sparkling eyes. "You got laid last night, didn't you?"

Mariah scoffed. "I can be happy for reasons besides sex." She turned her attention to the long line of vegetables in front of her. "But in this particular situation, yes. I did get laid last night."

Janie finished tying on her apron before going to the pile of potatoes that needed to be peeled, chopped, boiled, and mashed for an event taking place later at The Inn where Mariah was the head chef. "I want to be happy for you, but first I need to know whether or not you got off."

Mariah's smile dimmed a little, and she didn't look up as she hacked the end off a carrot. "That isn't the only thing that matters."

Janie's head dropped back and she groaned. "Are you fucking kidding me?" She slammed one of the potatoes onto the towel lined down the counter before flinging both arms out. "It might not be the only thing that matters, but why are you acting like it’s an irrelevant part of the fucking process? Do you think he would feel the same way if he didn't get off?" She pointed a finger at Mariah's face, before her friend could answer. "Because I can tell you, he would absolutely not."

She'd been around the block a time or two. She was over forty and had never been married, but she had a string of failed relationships behind her. And if there was one thing she’d learned the hard way, it was that any man who didn't put effort into getting you off, wasn't worth shit.

Half the ones who did still weren't worth shit.

"I think he was just caught up in the moment.” Mariah offered an excuse Janie had used too many times herself. “I'm sure it will be better next time."

"For your sake, I hope you're right, but I’ve never been right when I made that same assumption." She scrubbed the next potato so aggressively part of the skin wore away. "Please tell me he knows where the clit is."

Mariah was quiet beside her.

Janie's head spun her way. "Seriously?"

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