Page 6 of The First Day of Breeding Season
No.No.
A few weeks ago, my brother Noah, who teaches at the local community college, told me about one of his students, Brian Hughes, who had an interest in my breeding program.
He said Brian, right? I swear I heard him say Brian.
I emailed the kid, and he sent back a detailed proposal outlining what he would get out of a summer mentorship under me.
We exchanged a lot of messages, actually. He had tons of questions about turning a bull loose with the cows and heifers when we don’t have a lot of gates and fencing.
It’s the kind of specificity I nerd out on.
I told our manager, Raul, to save a bed forthis Brian kidin the bunkhouse.
I sent her an email a few days about my bulls’ scrotal circumferences!Good news, I told her.
Because I’ve invited this woman—this girl—this personnot named Brian after allto come into the mountains with me and watch my bulls breed all the cows and heifers they can mount. Over and over again. Close observation of animal fuckery.
Belatedly, my phone finally pings with a text message just as Benji comes around the barn, kicking up a dust cloud in the side-by-side.
Noah
Brynn sent me a text saying she’s on her way to the farm! Sorry I’m not there to greet her.
Fuck me. He never said Brian.
“There’s been a mistake,” I mutter under my breath.
She shoves her hand into the space between our bodies, a stubborn look settling onto her pretty, heart-shaped face. “I don’t think there’s a mistake,” she says firmly. “You accepted my proposal. You told me I could move onto the ranch today.”
Brynn.
Not Brian.
Brynn.
The name echoes through me, over and over again as I stare down at her small hand, still waiting for me to take it.
“You were supposed to come this afternoon,” I say dumbly.
You were supposed to be an eager mini-me shadow, not a wet dream come to life.
“Hey boss,” Benji says with a too-cheerful grin as he strides toward us. “Who’s this?”
Fuck me. This girl can’t stay in the bunkhouse with Theo and Benji.
Double fuck me, I can’t take her into the hills withTheoandBenji.
“I’m Brynn,” she says, beaming at him.
I want to tear my young employee limb from limb as he lifts his hat and gives her an aw shucks nod.
No, she can’t stay under the same roof or sky as any of our ranch hands. She’s soft and sweet-looking, with the most expressive eyes I’ve ever seen.
Those eyes aren’t very impressed with me right now.
“I got the text, Benji. Get back to work.”
“All right,” he says, then slides a hungry look at Brynn. “See you around, I hope.”
