Page 12 of Wrangling Nash

He nodded, “that’s right. You just gotta make sure he keeps up on his notes. Sometimes, if it’s a busy day for him and his guys, he gets behind, and that’ll throw off your analytics and cause you to think that calves haven’t been born that have, you need to order more feed than you do, they are missing immunizations... stuff like that.”

I nodded as I clicked on another screen, and Wylie’s phone pinged on the desk next to him. He picked it up, scanned the text, and then typed back a response before clicking it shut.

“Well, that’s it for me today,” he spoke, stretching his hands over his head.

“What do you mean? It’s only 2 o’clock. I thought most days went until at least 3 in the afternoon?”

He grinned. “I got a hot date with the girlfriend over in Abilene.”

I rolled my eyes. “Would Rig let you off work early to go on a date?”

“What my dad doesn’t know, doesn’t matter. Plus, you’re a charity case. You should be grateful I’m even taking the time to show you all this stuff.”

I sighed; he was right. Wylie had taught me a lot in just one day.

“I am grateful. Thanks for everything today, Wylie. I’ll see you tomorrow morning at 5?”

He pointed finger guns at me as he walked out of the door. “You can count on it, babe.”

Deciding to play around with the software a little more, I spent a few more hours going through my grandfather’s binders in his cabinet. Not only had he taken meticulous notes on what I needed to do to maintain the ranch’s current state, but each year he had a separate binder full of handwritten notes that tracked the things he worked on around the ranch. Pages of notes detailed calves being born, crops rotated, fences fixed, and equipment replaced. I marveled at just how much my grandfather had managed for decades without me even knowing.

Around 7 in the evening, I decided to reheat some of the spaghetti and garlic bread that Gloria had made for dinner and enjoy it with a glass of wine in the deep soaker I’d remembered was in my grandfather’s bathroom. I searched under the bathroom sink and found an old bag of Epsom salt soaks, dumping a hefty pour into the tub.

My body ached from the long day and hot sun, and I relaxed in the moment as I ate and drank my wine, listening to a new audiobook I’d downloaded on my phone. After completing my dinner and a lengthy soak, I realized my skin was on the verge of pruning. Deciding to call it an early night, I stepped out, dried off, and changed into a pair of cotton pajama shorts and a tank top.

As I made my way to the kitchen to turn off the lights, I noticed a glow emanating from one of the guest bedrooms. Unsure which room Wylie had chosen to set up in tonight, I thought I'd discreetly enter and turn off the light, without invading his privacy.

However, when I opened the door, I found the shock of my life instead – Nash was standing in the middle of the room with nothing but pajama pants on, his shirt halfway up his arms as if he was mid-tugging it off. Miles of abs accompanied his flat stomach tapering down to his slim waist and a deep V that seemed to point down to the main event. His pajama pants had to be made of the thinnest material to ever exist because they did nothing to conceal what was behind the light grey fabric - his massive package that was currently dangling between his thighs.

I let out a gasp as my eyes connected with it.

“Oh hey, Jovie. I thought you were already asleep,” Nash spoke with a grin.

Chapter 10: Nash

Jovie Vector.

The name had been in my mind like a country song the past three days since I ran into her at the convenience store while I was picking up new work gloves for Clay.

Light brown hair, big green eyes, and miles of tan legs coming out of her tiny daisy dukes. She’d been a sight for sore eyes when she’d asked me what work boots, she should buy.

I knew she didn’t belong in that store. Women like her aren’t made in Lonestar Junction. Hell, not even in Houston where I lived a few years ago. That’s what struck me when I learned that was her hometown. I was certain our paths never crossed there because I would have remembered her. You don’t forget green eyes and full lips like hers.

My eyes took a slow sweep up her short pajama-clad body where the thin fabric clung to her curves and revealed she wasn’t wearing a bra. Her firm nipples peeked through the almost translucent fabric, where little bits of water from her still-damp hair had rested, causing the fabric to become see-through and giving me a show. I’ll admit, I’d fantasized about what was underneath there a few times in the past three days.

I quickly averted my eyes back to hers, only to realize she was doing the same thing I was—checking me out. Her gaze lingered on my hips where my pants hung low.

I grinned when her eyes finally made their way back to mine, hoping she realized I’d caught her staring.

“What are you doing here?” she asked in response to my question.

“Wylie told me he was going out with Lana tonight.” I shrugged, finished pulling my shirt over my body and sat down on the bed to slip my socks on.

“I know. I don’t need a babysitter. I’m alright to sleep here on my own.”

“I know that” I responded, trying my best to conceal the eye roll I wanted to unleash, “but what you don’t know is that when Wylie says he’s going out with Lana, that also means they are both going to get shitfaced at Rex’s Rodeo House Bar, wind up in a huge fight where Lana breaks up with Wylie. Then, they’ll go home and fuck for hours until they both forget what they were fighting about and agree to stay together. Wylie will wake up with a hangover and be useless to you and the ranch. Figured I’d do you a favor, so you don’t lose momentum while you get up to speed on things.”

She visibly softened at my words as she sighed and leaned up against the door frame. “I had no idea Wylie was in such a great relationship.”

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