Page 22 of Buckled in Barbwire

He glares. “I’m trying to mend fences.”

“Why?”

“Maybe I feel guilty for how I’ve treated you.”

My brows reach for the sky. “Since when?”

His shrug is less committed than a one-night stand. “I overreacted about your… position at the farmstead. My sister trusts you, which should’ve been enough proof that you’re capable. I’ve made… unfair assumptions and didn’t properly welcome you to the team.”

A dry laugh trips from me. “That’s putting it mildly.”

His lips tighten into a firm line. “Will you accept my apology?”

“Maybe if you actually apologize.”

The request is met with a harsh exhale. “I’m sorry, Paisley. You didn’t deserve my negative attitude and bad assumptions based on a poor first impression. That led to me acting rude and unreasonable, which is out of character. I’ll be more respectful moving forward.”

His speech would come across as more genuine if hedidn’t sound physically pained. My flat expression reflects the thought. “And what about all the other stuff?”

“Such as?”

“My access code to the front entrance was erased, the halters went missing, no electricity in the barn, my truck keys were hidden, the tack room was locked,” I count the transgressions off on my fingers. “Just to name a few, and those don’t include the random damages and mishaps around the ranch.”

“I’ll take credit for the first one, but the rest aren’t on me.”

“Who else could be responsible?”

Brody is quiet for a beat before a smirk appears. “That sneaky menace. Definitely reviving his old nickname.”

“Who?”

“Not important. I’ll handle it, along with everything else.” That last part is muttered under his breath.

Which reminds me of his recent absence. “Is the sudden weight of your guilty conscience the reason you haven’t put up a fuss this week?”

There’s an unmistakable gleam in his green gaze. “Miss me?”

“You wish,” I retort.

A noise that could be mistaken for a chuckle rolls off his broad chest. I gape at him and the sound abruptly cuts off.

“Been busy.” He allows that explanation to hang in the stagnant air between us as tension hardens his expression. “There’s a new contractual obligation that requires much of my time. We’re still negotiating the terms. It’s irrational and complicated.”

“I’m sure it will pay off,” I say for the sake of conversation.

“But it will cost me,” he grunts. The frustration bleeds from his features until he’s restored the impassive mask. “Speaking of selling your soul, I heard you were talking about me at the farmer’s market. Rumor has it that we’re a love match.”

I inwardly cringe. How foolish of me to assume I’d avoided this awkward discussion. “That’s trashy gossip for you.”

Brody is staring at me too intently. “I bet your boyfriend is pissed.”

“He would be if he existed,” I mutter.

An unreadable glint flickers in his gaze. “Glad that’s settled.” He hooks a thumb in his belt loop and steps closer. “I have a proposition for you.”

“In addition to the truce?”

His nod is slow and calculating. “I need you to pretend that we’re in a relationship.”

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