Page 19 of Porter's Angel

“Oh honey, with that sort of welcome, I’m making a special effort to get in your way.”

“Whatever.” She flounced from him, gathering her blanket and attempting to make the bed. Her fingers were shaking. “You said you were leaving town.”

“Uh, I’m leaving downtown. I live here. We own the Slade Ranch just down the way…”

“Slades!” She whispered the name like a curse. “Oh, I see, yes. You’re from Harvest Ranch.That’show Emily knows you. I think she might’ve even mentioned you.” Wow, Emily must’ve blabbed their worst sins by the way her friend was acting. “There really isn’t anything going on with you two?” she asked.

“I promise. I’m free,” he said, “if that’s what you want to know.” He winked, tweaking her on purpose. This girl was super fun to tease.

She stiffened, like he’d guessed that she would. “I’ve heard that before,” she said. “Anyway, I’m not exactly in the mood for dating anymore, which you know very well.”

She was as flustered as a bird with ruffled feathers. WhathadEmily said about his family? West was the worst of them, the others were a little mischievous maybe, especially Nash and Porter. Maybe that was it. He straightened at the challenge of defying his reputation, trying to figure out how to put her mind at ease. “I’m notthatbad,” he said. “I mean, I’m no Angel… like you.”

She shifted nervously. “I’m not?”

“Well, time will tell,” he said. In either case, he was relieved that he didn’t have to worry about the plants anymore, but even more so, he was dying to see more of Emily’s friend. Angel or not, he was going to have a fun time with her.

Bring on the Fourth of July! She was a firecracker.

“See you soon,Angel.” Tipping his ball cap in farewell and wishing he’d brought his Stetson for more dramatic effect, he left that beautiful woman with a spring to his step. He meant what he said. This wouldn’t be the last that they saw of each other. Taking a page out of Nash’s book and throwing all his inhibitions out the door had just became a blast.

He joined his younger brother at Harold’s across the way. Cole was packing chicken feed into the back of the pickup to join the baby chicks he’d stashed back there. Porter drove a GMC Sierra, basically a huge black monster truck that the twins had somehow talked their father into putting into the cattle budget. It could get anywhere in this territory, and they’d taken good advantage of that in the few months that they’d owned it.

Cole’s muscular shoulders bulged under his tank top as he threw in another bag of chicken feed. It was a hot day, but unless they were going to a watering hole, no one ever saw the Slades in shorts, only in worn jeans. It had become a family joke that the sun had grilled the top of them into a fine roast while their pale legs hardly saw the light of day.

Always wear jeans. Farmer’s tan solved.

Cole turned to Porter, his eyes unreadable through his aviators. “Where are the plants?”

“Sorry, Momma’s gonna have to find another project. I got fired.” Porter snickered at the memory. “Emily hired someone else to water her plants. She’s… really good looking, not gonna lie.”

“Oh?” Cole cocked a brow. He threw the last bag of chicken feed into the back and started to walk across the street with an arrogant swagger. “I think I forgot something at Emily’s I need to pick up.”

Porter laughed. “Your funeral. She almost took off my head with a lamp.”

“You don’t say?” Cole stopped dead in his tracks. “This plant babysitter must be a great judge of character. Too bad that she missed. Maybe you should give her another chance to take a swing at you.”

Porter smirked. “I just might.” The fact that she’d taken a dislike to him from the beginning seemed more like something that would happen to Nash. Such a shame because now that Porter had met her, he couldn’t get those beautiful doe eyes out of his head.

Man, he needed some advice on how to get around a fiery girl, probably from Nash. This was his twin’s territory. He’d know exactly what to do. Porter was always the perfect foil next to his brother’s player’s ways. If Angel ever met Nash, she’d definitely pick out the more responsible twin.

Maybe.

That was if she didn’t try to get out of town first. He reflected on some of the strange demands that she’d made—something about how she didn’t want anyone to know that she was here. Why? What was she running from?

“Hey, it’s the other half of trouble,” a familiar voice called out behind them.

Turning, Porter spied Grey Bridges leaving Harold’s. Grey’s black hair had fallen over one of his eyes. He wore his SEAL’s T-shirt, his muscular biceps bulging against the weight of two paint cans. Both Cole and Porter backed up. Grey had been hounding them to help him paint the cabins that he’d been fixing up on the land that he’d acquired from Funches.

“Just the men I wanted to see,” Grey said. He set the heavy paint buckets down near their pickup. “You busy next Saturday?”

The Slades were always busy nowadays… though there was a reason for that. Their Momma made sure that they took some time out to help the neighbors with plenty of service projects. Cole groaned. “We slept just fine in those cabins back in the day without fixing them up. Why can’t you just leave them as they are?”

“Because they have to look pretty. The bugs we slept on aren’t as particular as our fine guests.” Grey planned to make a resort out of the waterfalls he’d bought from the old man. Buying Funches’s land was a step up from trespassing it all the time like they used to do back in their high school days. Typical that Grey wanted to make money off of their memories now.

“What bugs?” Porter asked his brother. “I thought they got scared off by your stench.”

Cole glared at him.

---