Page 15 of The Professor's Holiday Surprise

Zane nods, then heads outside as I fill up a travel mug for Drew.

“Thanks,” he mutters.

“Always.” I raise my coffee in a toast to him.

This is what I need to focus on.

The only constant in my entire life has been my brothers. Our father bred his way across Wyoming, making four sons with four different women. But as soon as Trick made the majors, he bought this ranch for us, so we’d always have a family home.

I will not be led by my dick.

As tempting as it is to try to move on from my fixation on Paisley to GoodGardenGirl or just my OnlySantas audience as a whole, it’s all a symptom of the same problem. Sexual desire is a trap.

And not one I’m going to fall into again.

I stalk out into the darkness. Zane’s already turned on the lights in the cattle barn. Past that is the horse barn, and as I draw near, I hear Inez’s husband Raul murmuring to one of the mares in Spanish.

“Sweet talking one of the girls?” I ask him when I slip inside.

“Always.” He laughs. “Nice to see you today.”

“I know. It’s been a while. But I’m almost done for the term, and then you’ll have my lazy ass helping every morning.”

He gives me a high five. “Many hands make light work. Let’s go.”

It’s warmer in here, but it’s still November in Wyoming. I take a long, fortifying sip of coffee before getting down to the morning tasks.

And it’s true what they say about many hands. We get done faster than I expect, so I still have lots of time when I saddle up Morrill, my black quarter horse named for the nineteenth century congressional act that created land-grants for colleges to ensure agricultural higher education was supported across the country—and eventually led to my second chance at a career.

I’m never not a nerd.

Zane razzed me for it, accusing me of naming my horse after mushrooms in a text message that I have saved to this day as a screensaver.

Noah:That’s morel, dumb ass.

Zane: So what’s a Morrill?

Noah: Historic congressman. There’s a town named after the guy on the Nebraska border.

Zane: Never noticed.

Noah: You’re just being a dick on purpose, aren’t you?

Zane: Bet you’re explaining Morel’s name for his entire life.

Joke is on my brother,though. I’ve never needed to introduce Morrill to anyone outside the family.

Immediately, I picture bringing Paisley with me to saddle up horses and head out into the back pastures. Not gonna happen, so it’s a bittersweet fantasy.

Shaking my head, I pat Morrill. “You want to go for a quick, hard run, boy? I need to feel the cold wind on my face. And then a nice walk for you, too.”

He bumps his head against mine, already looking forward to the cool down, where he can stretch his muscles and feel like a champion.

“That’s my trusty steed. You’re the best. I’ll give you a good brush after, too. I’ve got time this morning, and it’s all yours.”

I lead him out through the paddock, then mount up and urge him forward.

This is what matters most.

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