Page 22 of Claimed By the Cowboys

I can see her truck parked in front of the house by the time I roll up. Mentally, I understand that I’m going to have to talk to her, because she wants to talk. If only my goddamn mouth would get on board.

I don’t bother to change. It’s early afternoon, and I know that I’ve been working up a sweat in the sun as I try to develop my relationship with that mare. I probably stink like sweat and horses. Again.

Fuck it.

Piper is more important, and no one expects anything from me that’s fancy like showering anyhow.

The door squeaks as I throw it open.Got to get the goddamn WD-40 for that shit.

Piper is on the couch. She has a bunch of stuff spread out over the coffee table. Looks like calendars and pictures and shit. She smiles at me, and I think my heart stops for just a second. “Hey, Dalton.”

“Darlin’.” I smile at her. I can’t help it when Piper is around. I really can’t.

“How were the horses today?”

I shrug, settling onto the chair across from her. “Horses.”

“Well, that sounds eloquent.”

I chuckle. “Mare’s coming closer. Didn’t bite me today.”

“Oh, good. She’s stunning. That copper-colored coat is something else.”

“Bay,” I respond.

Piper tilts her head.

“It’s called bay. Hers is just real red,” I mutter.

What the fuck, man?Here I am, talking about horse coat colors, and not saying jack shit that I want to say.I’d give you asmany babies as you want, Piper. You just gotta fuckin’ say the word.

Piper makes a little humming noise and leans back. It makes my balls ache, because if she makes a little hum like that when she’s just agreeing, what does she sound like when she’s splayed out, her pussy tight as she’s about to come?

“Hey, Piper,” Tate breezes in. “Brent’s coming, he just wanted to shower first.”

Her nose wrinkles. “I bet. Cows?”

“Cows,” Tate confirms.

I subtly try to sniff my shirt, but I catch the glitter in Tate’s eyes. Fucker noticed.

“Well, while we wait on him, I have some ideas for your marketing. First, I think we should really focus on what it’s like to be you,” she says.

Oh. Fuck me. I grunt, looking at the pictures she has down on the sheet.

They’re all pictures from her social media, but they show… her. Piper. Piper doing things around the farm. Piper canning asparagus. Piper putting a goddamn chicken into a tub with a little hole cut out for its head. Piper’s the one who is front and fucking center, and like hell do I want to do that.

I shake my head, leaning back nervously. “No.”

“No what?” Piper asks.

I point. “That.”

Tate leans over, giving me a look. “Dalton. Bro. She’s the expert. We kind of have to do whatever she says.”

The panic in my chest rises, and I make a growling sound.

Piper interjects. “Well, we’ll find something that works for all of you. Yes, this is very focused around me, because I’m my brand. Each of you have the thing you’re contributing to the ranch, so I thought that would be a good place to start. If that’snot something you’re comfortable with, Dalton, we’ll figure it out. Sound good?”

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