Page 15 of The First Day of Breeding Season
I scrub my jaw. “Could do. We’d need another bull, though.”
He rolls his eyes. “Oh no, you’d hate having to go find another prize stud.” He jerks his head at Brynn. “Noah says she’s really interested in stuff like that. What do you want to bet she’s already scouted the best options within five hundred miles?”
I frown. “You talked to Noah about her?”
“Yeah, I talked to Noah. He said I should make her feel comfortable here, in case you work her to the bone.”
“I wouldn’t.”
Trick shrugs. “I’m just saying, Noah said that she might push all your buttons.”
I choke on just how close to the truth that is.
But then I think of that folder she gave me. “If I did work her to the bone, she’d fucking like it,” I mutter. “And she probably does have some of that data, yeah. We talked a bit about it via email.”
Of course she thought she could get my opinion about all of her other questions. The Drew she met online only cared about that stuff, just like her.
Before. When I only thought of her as a mentee, and didn’t have this confounding and frustrating physical response to how she looks. And smells, and sounds…
As if she can sense that I’m thinking about her, she turns her head and looks our way.
Taking a deep breath, I wave her over.
As soon as she comes close, I make it clear that this is about business, and we want her input. “We were just talking about expanding the herd. My brother here thought that might be something you might have some insight on, and I agreed that you probably would.”
“Oh! Yes, I would.” She swings her leg up and over the saddle, dropping into the soft dirt.
Trick holds out his hand across the fence. “Trick Lowry, nice to meet you.”
Her eyes go wide, having the same reaction most people do when they meet my brother up close and in person. He’s a legend in Wyoming, a local boy who made the big leagues and won the World Series for his team at his final at bat before retiring home to the ranch at forty-two.
We’re only half-brothers, so I don’t have all of his charm and charisma. And I’ve never minded that before, but I burn under the collar as Brynn starts to give him a breathless smile.
Predictably, she sounds in awe. “I know who you are.”
But instead of going to the baseball stuff, she surprises me with what she says next. “You bought this ranch for your brothers because Drew knew his stuff about breeding and you trusted that he would build a good herd.”
Trick laughs. “I sure did. He was probably your age when I bet on him, too.”
“How d’you know that?” I interrupt.
I get a wide-eyed look, too, but this time it’s more shock, less awe. “Umm…”
“Doesn’t matter,” Trick says.
Except it does. It feels like this woman showed up on my ranch today and she sees right through me, and knows everything about me, and I don’t know nearly enough about her.
“He’s right, though,” I hear myself saying. “I probably was your age when we started the herd with thirty cows.” I rub my jaw. “And now we’re talking about adding exactly that number again next year.”
It all feels a little full circle, a little on the nose. I’m worried it’s too good to be true, but the thought of expanding again with Brynn by my side is heady.
“So you need another bull.” Now her attention is nakedly all mine. She crosses her arms on top of the fence and leans in, Ace’s reins looped over her arm. “Do you have stock in mind already?”
“Not yet.”
“Because I can understand how your first instinct might be to go with a bull from a known supplier but other options would be—” She cuts herself off.
I lean in, matching her pose, and I nudge her elbow with mine. “It’s okay, tell me what you think.”
