Page 8 of The First Day of Breeding Season
He looks as shocked as I feel. “I shouldn’t have said all of that,” he adds gruffly. “But you need to know what you’re getting into here. I’m drawn to you in a dangerous way. I’m gonna look at you in ways that I shouldn’t, I think. And I won’t touch you, I promise you that, but… I don’t have a lot of practice hiding my feelings. Everyone around here will tell you that. Except with them it’s frustration and impatience. I’m a demanding boss.”
“I don’t mind working hard,” I say in a rush.
He nods. “I know that from your emails. But you’re gonna need to give me some time to lock down this reaction I’m having to just how pretty you are. It’s unexpected, that’s all.”
I think about telling him about my own inappropriate thoughts. But that might be like pouring fuel on a fire that should just be stomped out.
He is going to be my boss all summer, after all.
He should treat me just like Benji and Theo.
Maybe I need to recalibrateallmy thoughts about him. Erase the ranching competence porn I devoured before I got here. Erase how good he looks after a morning of hard work. He says he’s a demanding boss. I should focus on that. Drew Lowry is growly and unbearable, and I need to approach him with caution.
So I drag in a breath and open my eyes, smiling brightly. “Let’s start over.”
This time when I stick my hand out between us, I’m painfully aware of how eager I look. His hand stays at his side for a beat too long, and just when I'm about to drop mineagainand die of embarrassment, he moves. His fingers wrap around mine, all the way around. My hand completely disappears in his oversized mitt and unfamiliar heat races through me from the contact, pooling low in my belly.
I'm the one who shakes our hands firmly.
Buthe'sthe one who doesn't let go.
His grip on my hand tightens.
“Brynn,” he says, my name tumbling roughly over his lips. And maybe he was going to say something else, but then his gaze shifts, his eyes tightening, and he focuses on my t-shirt.
I'm wearing one of the tongue-in-cheek horny shirts that everyone on campus wears, and it says, in very small letters,I Study HARD at CLIMAX Springs. Well, all the words excepthardandclimaxare very small. Those are bigger, large enough that from a distance that's all anyone would see.
Unfamiliar heat floods my cheeks and spreads down my neck.
Everyone around here wears Climax Springs gear and makes orgasm jokes.
But somehow it’s different in this moment.
He curses under his breath, then lets go of my hand abruptly to adjust his hat, lifting it up and then jamming it back onto his head. “You can’t wear shirts like that. Gives cowboys the wrong idea.”
CHAPTER 4
DREW
Ah, for fuck’s sake, that was the wrong thing to say.
Of course it was.
My brother wears shirts like this to work as her professor. Everyone wears shirts like that around here, so of course she blinks at me, dumbfounded.
I’m no good with women. Never have been. Never will be.
Why didn’t I listen more closely when Noah was talking aboutBrian?
Why didn’t I get specific about her name in the emails, instead of talking to her endlessly about the mating habits of large animals?
And I already miss hold her hand. It was warmer, softer, and smaller than I expected, and Goddamndid it not feel fucking perfect.
Touching her makes my chest ache in this stupid, unfamiliar way. Like I’ve caught a bubble floating on the air, and if I let it go, it’ll pop.
Which is exactly what I need it to do. I need her to disappear.
She’s too fucking tempting to be around a group of men who aren’t getting laid much this summer. Or at all.
