Page 10 of Bourbon Breakaway

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I start the car, and no sooner than getting a few minutes down the road, my hands-free rings. “Jolie Hunter,” I answer.

Logan’s voice pounds through my car. “So formal.”

“I didn’t know it was you. I’m driving.”

“But why do you answer your personal cell that way?”

“I give a lot of clients this number.”

“Really? Geez, that’s dedication.”

“Yeah, well, not all of us need a burner phone to keep work and play separate.”

His suggestive, boyish laugh fills my car.

“Why did you call?”

“Ashton’s mom asked him to help her bring out the Belgians for Molly to see? Who’s Molly?” He says her name with sexual curiosity. It doesn’t take much more than two syllables to pique my playboy brother’s interest.

“She’s the new stable manager Dash hired. Off-limits because she works for the resort. No fraternizing.”

Technically, Logan doesn’t have anything to do with the dude ranch business, though it is owned by all us Hunters, and the last thing I want is for Logan to be near a nice girl like Molly. He’s very charming. Very convincing. And very emotionally unavailable.

“So are you calling about Molly or the horses? Or just to bother me?”

“I thought since I have a day off, I’d go over with Ashton and help out Monica. Maybe I’ll drive us over. Meet this Molly first? I need something to do.”

“It’s amazing how much day there is when you’re not sleeping it away, hey?” I taunt him.

His voice is full of sarcasm. “Yeah, I’ve been doing it for a whole week already and I can’t believe how many episodes ofJudge JudyI missed. What was I thinking?”

I laugh. “Well, I just promised Molly I’d examine the horses. I’ll text Dash and let him know you’re fetching us from the stables but I’ll need half an hour because I have to drop off my chickens.”

“You got chickens?”

“Yeah. Luis Mendez gave them to me as a tip for my high insemination rate.” I turn the corner off the main road and up the private drive leading into our family-owned land.

“You’re weird. Like, zero other people would ask for chickens instead of money.”

“Hey, you’ll be eating your words when my free-range chicken business is killing it.”

“Maybe I will. See you in a bit.”

“Bye.”

I press the button on the steering wheel to end the call. I glance in the rearview mirror at my windswept hair. I have a little panda thing going on because my eyes always water in the wind. Shit. I won’t have time to change or get clean before going over to the Danes’. But why should I care?

I know exactly why I care.Because Ashton will be there.

This time I won’t hug him. I won’t get close enough to smell his cologne or think about which superhero to compare his muscles to. I’ll be his friend. And he can be mine.

Because it’s possible we both need one after the decade we’ve each experienced.

Chapter Three

“If this is justthe first of many jobs you’re roping me into, Mom, I need to remind you of my contract,” I joke, leading two seventeen-hand Belgian draft horses out to the arena.

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