Page 12 of Claimed By the Cowboys

Tate gives him a look. “Did you think I was just fucking around?”

“Yeah,” Dalton deadpans.

I hold up a hand, interrupting them. “You can bicker later. Tate, that sounds like an amazing idea and totally a good use of your skills,” I say. He grins, and I look at Dalton. “And you’re helping with this?”

He shakes his head. “No. Raising horses.”

“Don’t you already raise horses?”

He looks a little lost at my question, and the grooves between his eyebrows deepen.

Brent jumps in. “He’s raising high-quality bloodline horses for reining and cattle work, and for trainers to use for all kinds of purposes.”

I raise an eyebrow. Dalton takes a deep breath.

“Hollywood needs horses when they do stuff. Certain horses and bloodlines are easy to train. Reining horses have the same skillset. I figure if I can get a couple of decent rounds of foals out, then people will know that we’re looking to expand. We can go to the stock shows, then maybe try and get some interest from some of the new-to-Montana crowd.”

New to…

It clicks.

“You’re trying to sell horses to rich people. And you,” I point at Tate, “want to cater for them.”

They both nod.

I glance at Brent. “And are you supporting this?”

“Cattle still,” he says, shaking his head. “But I’m putting in the work to have high-quality meat that we can sell to?—”

“Rich people,” I breathe.

All three men nod vigorously.

My mind whirls, and I look at Brent. “Why did this necessitate a sit-down meeting and dinner? You could have just asked me this morning at the farmers market.”

He shifts uncomfortably. “Well. Piper. I just…”

“We don’t want to impose,” Dalton says softly.

I glance back at him. “It’s not imposing.”

I’m still confused. These guys are closer to me than anyone in the world, save my sister. Why didn’t they feel like they could just… ask?

“And, given the fact that you hated working for people in San Francisco, we didn’t want to remind you of that,” Tate adds.

Ah. Okay, that kind of makes sense. I lean back in the chair, drinking the rest of my wine. I haven’t responded yet, and I can tell that all of them are waiting on me.

I weigh my emotions. I’m kind of disappointed. Honestly. I have no idea why I was thinking that they’d ask me for something likelet’s have a baby together.It makes no sense.

Until Brent twists the napkin in his hands, and I watch the muscles in his forearms play underneath his skin. And Dalton makes a low noise in his throat that heats my blood. And Tate gives me that sparkling look that just screams mischief.

I grab the bottle of wine and pour myself another glass. I take another deep sip, which I know I shouldn’t. I’m a cheap date when it comes to alcohol. Only a little bit will send me right over the edge.

“I’m hurt that you didn’t think you could ask me. I ask you guys for help all the time, and it feels weird that you didn’t want to return the favor,” I say slowly.

Brent flushes red. “Shit. I mean. We didn’t mean to make you feel weird, Piper, but since we’re friends, and you hated working for someone in your old job, we didn’t want to?—”

“Impose,” I finish the sentence for him.

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