Page 4 of Jewel in the Rough

He chuckled quietly at his own words; he’d always found it a funny thing to say to a cow. Some things never got old, unlike his body, which, at the ripe old age of thirty-five, was reminding him of every bad choice he’d ever made. Jumping off the hay loft, pretending to be Superman? He’d landed fine but lurched forward and hit his forehead on the edge of a crate, earning himself seven stitches. Bad choice. Betting his childhood friend, Wade Buckner, he could walk the entire fence line of the property without falling off? Bad choice. Teagan’d had a cast on his right arm for months and missed playing football that year.

Setting a new bucket down, he sat back on the milking stool. It was hard not to think about his father and how many years he’d sat on this very stool in this very spot. Fletcher Morrison had never wanted to be anything but a dairy farmer and was perplexed by his only son, who’d felt the need to not only move off Piedras but to a city large enough to qualify as a small country.

The sound of someone clearing their throat had him turning toward the barn doors. Teagan blinked, and he had the surreal feeling his life was about to change forever. At least, it seemed like that would be what his actual life changing might feel like, if he let it happen without his permission. But control freak, so no.

“Um, hello?” An unfamiliar voice called out.

Someone stood just outside the barn, silhouetted against the warm sunshine so Teagan couldn’t see them clearly. The person moved uncertainly, seemingly waiting for Teagan to acknowledge their existence. Bette Davis snorted, and too late Teagan realized he’d shifted his attention at the wrong time.

CHAPTER4

Benny

When the going gets tough there’s always YouTube.

Calling Ciara Morrison out of the blue had been impulsive, but also, Benny didn’t want to die anytime soon, and to be fair, she had said she owed him and to call anytime. Maybe she didn’t mean for Benny to use her farm as a safehouse in his DIY witness protection program, but she didn’t need to know that. And maybe the offer had been given eight years ago, but who was counting? Not Benny.

“You’re calling at the perfect time, Benny,” Ciara had said cheerfully. “We need help on the farm, and you are just the man for the job.”

Maybe she was confusing him with one of the other students they’d been friends with at The Evergreen College? Maybe someone who’d studied food and agriculture or animal science on The Organic Farm? Now was not the time to correct her mistake.

“I hate to be a bother, I just need a place to stay for a little while. Something in Vegas went kind of sideways—”

“Please, don’t worry about it. Honestly, this is perfect timing. I was just writing up a job posting, what do you think?” In a falsetto voice, Ciara pretended to read her job listing. “Do you love animals and the out-of-doors? Organic slash boutique dairy farm and cantankerous farmer need assistance. Room and board in exchange for labor. Must be over eighteen and have hide of an elephant. Experienced preferred but not required. For more info call…”

“I don’t actually have the hide of an elephant, I apply moisturizer religiously.” Benny wasn’t sure he loved farm animals, either, but again, now was not the time.

Ciara had laughed, a bright clear chime Benny had missed since their years in the dorms together.

“When you get here, you’ll see what I mean. I can’t wait until you arrive. This is going to be perfect.”

It was true that Benny’s childhood had prepared him for the worst in people. He doubted that whoever he was supposed to help out would be able to get under his skin, and he’d had to get out of Vegas. The U.S. marshals wanted him to go into witness protection, but no way was he doing that. He’d already rebuilt his life once. He’d just lay low until the Sureños gang forgot he existed. Easy-peasy.

“Hello?” Benny called out again, not able to see anything in the shadowy interior of the barn. He’d heard swearing for sure, so someone was here, they just weren’t answering him.

A cow mooed and there was arustle-thumpsound and a painful gasp before a deep male voice growled, “Mother-fucking-hell.” Same voice as before, so Benny was going to go out on a limb and assume it was Teagan, Ciara’s brother.

Teagan, who Benny had briefly fantasized about after meeting him years ago. He’d extracted Benny and Ciara from a sticky situation. From the depths of his memory, Benny recalled a rougher, stronger, male version of Ciara. Sexy and gruff. And, Benny also recalled, not exactly the most sympathetic of people. With any luck, Teagan had forgotten about the one and only time they’d met.

Girding his loins, Benny moved deeper in the dark barn, hoping his eyes would adjust quickly. The plaintive plucks of a banjo started playing in his head and he forced them aside.

Teagan had gotten his breath back and was now swearing like a truck driver at a rest stop with a coffee shortage.

“Are you okay?” Benny asked politely.

“Fucking cows. It’s a good goddamn thing I don’t ever want to have kids.”

Not really the attitude Benny thought a dairy farmer would have. They were his livelihood, right? On the other hand, the fact that the man was on one knee, with a hand protectively around his, ah, jewels, and his other hand on the barn floor to keep him from collapsing could only mean one thing.

“Are you okay?” he asked again, rushing toward the prone man.

“No, I’m not fucking okay. Betty White kicked me in the balls.”

“Oh, dude, Betty White, I thought she was the nice one?” Benny winced with sympathetic pain. “Was it a direct hit? Do you need ice or something?”

Benny looked around like an ice machine would magically appear for him in the middle of this barn. A cow, mostly white with a black nose, watched them from a few feet away. Benny realized something in that moment as he was attempting to administer help to probably-Ciara’s-brother: cows were fucking huge.

Why had this never occurred to him before?

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