hair was slicked back, his feet bare. Pushing away the picture of Max as a little boy, missing his mom, she walked to the cupboard. “Hey, Max.” She reached on tiptoe to get two glasses.
A low whistle came from behind. She whirled around, nearly dropping one of the glasses.
“Damn, you clean up nice.” His eyes roamed her body from head to freshly painted toe. “Please tell me you’renot wearing that to dinner. We’ll have a riot on our hands.” He gave her a big-bad-wolf smile that made it plain that he could eat her up.
“Thanks. I think.” He looked good enough to eat himself—and lately she found herself hungry for more than just Tia’s meals. She kept from touching him as she reached around him to put the glass under the ice dispenser in the door. “As long as you’re standing there, would you mind getting the tea out for me?” She took a deep breath. The ice in the glasses clinked in her shaking hands. She took the two steps to the counter, set them down, and wiped her hands on the back of her shorts. “Have you thought at all about my proposal?”
He carried the jug to the counter. “I have. I have only one question.”
She relaxed. Business questions she could handle.
“Why did you go behind my back and ask Wyatt about putting a bull in our pasture?”
Her stomach clenched. She’d known he’d hear about that. “Maybe because I knew how you’d react.” She raised her chin and tried the imperious look that worked so well for Janet. “I was right.”
He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms. “You don’t think you were a bit… underhanded?”
Her skin heated. She’d only been covering her bases. And buying a bull was a sound business decision.
Damn him.
“Look, bucko. I don’t need yours or anyone else’s permission to buy cattle. Or to go where I please. Or to do what makes me happy. Ever again.” She was flat done with being judged, formally or otherwise. “Max Jameson, you are an insufferable curmudgeon.” Stepping up, she poked a finger in his chest. “You’re a bully, and everyonekowtows to your foul moods. Well, I’ve got news. It takes a lot more than the likes of you to scare me.”
She lifted the full glasses. “Maybe people wouldn’t feel the need to do things behind your back if you were just a bit human, instead of two-thirds grizzly and the rest—” She sputtered, unable to think of anything bad enough. “Snidely Whiplash!”
With a head toss that flipped her hair over her shoulder, she stalked from the room.
Max cocked his head. “Snidely Whiplash?”
“Here, give me that. You never could dig postholes for crap.” Max took the double-bladed implement from his brother’s hands. “I’ll bet you have blisters inside those gloves, don’t you?” He rammed the digger into the rock-hard soil. God they needed rain.
“Well, excuse me. There aren’t many barbed-wire fences in Boston to keep the calluses up.”
Wyatt stepped to his horse and pulled the canteen strap off the saddle horn. He took off his hat and took a long drink, then handed it over. “It’s almost worth the blisters to be out here, though. I’d forgotten how beautiful the mountains are.”
“Hey, that was your choice. The mountains haven’t moved.” Max sipped metallic-tasting water and eyed his brother. “And grab the sunscreen out of your saddlebag. You’re getting burned.”
Wyatt put his hand on his hip, like a girl would. Max turned away and rammed the blades into the ground.
“Yeah. My choice. A pretty easy choice it was too, given the circumstances.”
“Oh, you know Dad—“
“Dad was only part of the problem, as you very well know.”
“I’m not saying I’m blaming you for leaving, Wyatt. But you understand what it’s like here. You were raised in the country.” He pushed on the handles and lifted out dirt, then rammed them into the ground again. Sweat rolled down his bare back and into his eyes. He didn’t want to talk about this.
“I
A low whistle came from behind. She whirled around, nearly dropping one of the glasses.
“Damn, you clean up nice.” His eyes roamed her body from head to freshly painted toe. “Please tell me you’renot wearing that to dinner. We’ll have a riot on our hands.” He gave her a big-bad-wolf smile that made it plain that he could eat her up.
“Thanks. I think.” He looked good enough to eat himself—and lately she found herself hungry for more than just Tia’s meals. She kept from touching him as she reached around him to put the glass under the ice dispenser in the door. “As long as you’re standing there, would you mind getting the tea out for me?” She took a deep breath. The ice in the glasses clinked in her shaking hands. She took the two steps to the counter, set them down, and wiped her hands on the back of her shorts. “Have you thought at all about my proposal?”
He carried the jug to the counter. “I have. I have only one question.”
She relaxed. Business questions she could handle.
“Why did you go behind my back and ask Wyatt about putting a bull in our pasture?”
Her stomach clenched. She’d known he’d hear about that. “Maybe because I knew how you’d react.” She raised her chin and tried the imperious look that worked so well for Janet. “I was right.”
He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms. “You don’t think you were a bit… underhanded?”
Her skin heated. She’d only been covering her bases. And buying a bull was a sound business decision.
Damn him.
“Look, bucko. I don’t need yours or anyone else’s permission to buy cattle. Or to go where I please. Or to do what makes me happy. Ever again.” She was flat done with being judged, formally or otherwise. “Max Jameson, you are an insufferable curmudgeon.” Stepping up, she poked a finger in his chest. “You’re a bully, and everyonekowtows to your foul moods. Well, I’ve got news. It takes a lot more than the likes of you to scare me.”
She lifted the full glasses. “Maybe people wouldn’t feel the need to do things behind your back if you were just a bit human, instead of two-thirds grizzly and the rest—” She sputtered, unable to think of anything bad enough. “Snidely Whiplash!”
With a head toss that flipped her hair over her shoulder, she stalked from the room.
Max cocked his head. “Snidely Whiplash?”
“Here, give me that. You never could dig postholes for crap.” Max took the double-bladed implement from his brother’s hands. “I’ll bet you have blisters inside those gloves, don’t you?” He rammed the digger into the rock-hard soil. God they needed rain.
“Well, excuse me. There aren’t many barbed-wire fences in Boston to keep the calluses up.”
Wyatt stepped to his horse and pulled the canteen strap off the saddle horn. He took off his hat and took a long drink, then handed it over. “It’s almost worth the blisters to be out here, though. I’d forgotten how beautiful the mountains are.”
“Hey, that was your choice. The mountains haven’t moved.” Max sipped metallic-tasting water and eyed his brother. “And grab the sunscreen out of your saddlebag. You’re getting burned.”
Wyatt put his hand on his hip, like a girl would. Max turned away and rammed the blades into the ground.
“Yeah. My choice. A pretty easy choice it was too, given the circumstances.”
“Oh, you know Dad—“
“Dad was only part of the problem, as you very well know.”
“I’m not saying I’m blaming you for leaving, Wyatt. But you understand what it’s like here. You were raised in the country.” He pushed on the handles and lifted out dirt, then rammed them into the ground again. Sweat rolled down his bare back and into his eyes. He didn’t want to talk about this.
“I
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