by Em Petrova
Several times over the course of the morning’s work, she found herself stifling giggles, because the man hadn’t bothered changing his jeans and finished his morning’s work with his ass hanging out.
“You sure don’t mind being the ‘butt’ of our jokes, boy,” Vin drawled.
Gracie ducked her head to hide her smile, but Watkins caught it.
“Dalton, Watkins, you’re partnered up on fence duty while I take Timms and Minich with us into town for supplies.” Langtry’s order had them looking at each other.
Gracie wasn’t about to argue, though, no matter how much she didn’t want to spend the afternoon in Noble’s company.
Watkins sauntered away, giving her a prime view of his backside.
“At least change your jeans,” she called to him.
He tossed her a glance over his shoulder. A knowing glance. Like he understood exactly where her eyes went every time he presented her with his back. “You ain’t gotta look, Dalton.”
A furious flush stole over her cheeks, so she yanked her hat down, hoping to cover it or face the men’s teasing.
Turning on her heels, she strode for the paddock. There, she urged her favored horse to her with a bite of apple. As she stroked its neck to get the mare accustomed to her scent again, a constant battle waged in her mind.
Noble’s an ass.
But he’s got a cute one.
Stop looking at it.
How can I help it when it’s out there for everyone to see? Besides, he looked at me pretty hard after I fell into the water tank.
Ugh. Stop.
With a click of her tongue, she led the horse to the barn and saddled it. A second later, Noble jogged around the barn. The flap of his ripped jeans was no longer loose, and she thought he might have changed fast, but then she saw he’d simply tucked the top bit into the elastic band of his boxers to hold it in place.
Only a cowboy would come up with a solution like that. If it had been Ford, Easton or Justus, she would have been falling out of her saddle with laughter. But Noble was not her brother.
My body doesn’t act like he’s my brother either.
Dear Lord, where had that come from? Her mind was so far from attraction, it might as well be in another county. But now that it had surfaced… Well, she wasn’t going to think about that.
She was here to do a job and do it right, starting with the fence.
She tapped her heels into her mare and guided it around the barn. The field where they were repairing fence was some distance off, and it was a good day for ridin’—a nice breeze on her face and throat, and the scent of hay filled her nose.
A minute later, Noble caught up to her. He drew his horse abreast. It was impossible for her not to notice how easy he rode, as if he’d been born in the saddle.
“What’s your family do?” she asked, surprising herself that she had spoken at all.
He cocked a brow at her. “We’re gettin’ chummy now, exchanging family history?”
“Just wondered where you learned all this. Is your family in the ranchin’ biz?”
He grunted, the sound a low rumble in his throat that worked its way under her skin every time he made it.
“We all know your family’s in the ranchin’ biz.” He shot her a look.
“What’s that supposed to mean? Do you think I’m getting some preferential treatment because of it or something? I’m pretty sure I know how to handle myself.”
He eyed her, rolling in the saddle in a way that had her looking away. “Did I say you don’t know how to handle yourself? You’re awfully defensive. Typical woman.”
She barked a laugh. “So it’s a female trait now. I wondered how long it’d take to cross that gender line.”
“Don’t act like you aren’t gunning for Timms, Minich and me just because we’re men and you have to prove yourself.”
She bit off an angry retort. He was trying to get a rise out of her, and she had to keep her calm first and foremost, show him she didn’t give a damn what he said, because he could not get to her.
Giving him her sweetest smile she only used to bribe her daddy or one of her uncles, she continued to ride on.
“What’s that for?”
“What?” she asked.
“That smile.”
“Just enjoying the day.” She tipped her face up to the sun.
The noise he made sounded like the groan of a wild animal. “Don’t act like you aren’t gunning for my job.”
Her head whipped around at his statement. “Your job? I’m pretty sure I’m gunning for my job, buddy.”
“Well, buddy, if we do end up working together on a permanent basis, you’re going to be dealing with me every day. You up for that?”
Instead of answering, she kicked her horse’s sides, sending it shooting across the field. She had to get away from this imbecile before she said or did something she regretted.
Noble might know his way around the ranch, have a firm bottom and a voice that trickled over a girl’s senses like water kissing over the edges of a shore, but he was also a jerk.
A jerk she might end up working with permanently, like he said.
They might be thrust together in a partnership on the fence for today, but in the future, she’d be better off buddying up with Minich. Then at least his failures would make her look good.
* * * * *
“Bet I can hammer more o’ these posts in than you today.”
Noble looked up at Gracie. Unsurprised by the challenge in her eyes, he drawled, “Sure you’re up for that bet, Dalton? I’m bigger and stronger than you.”
She chuckled. “Only a competition would prove it.”
He faced her and took a step nearer, forcing her back up against the side of the truck where they were getting their supplies from the back. “You’re on,” he said.
She grabbed everything she needed and took off for the fence line, and he was left a moment to deal with the aftereffects of her hips swaying. Damn, did she have to be so tempting?
Grabbing a sledgehammer, he strode to his own bit of fence. They each went at the work like men on an old chain gang, driving posts rather than spikes for the railroad. He’d done three to her two, but somehow, he looked up and saw she’d bested him by one more.
“What the…?” he muttered, dialing up the speed.
She paused for a drink, and he wanted one too—his throat was parched. But he wasn’t going to allow the woman to show him up. Any other woman, sure, but not Miss Gracie Dalton. The woman was a pure pain in his ass, and he wouldn’t give her the gratification of winning.
She slammed another post home with several swings of her sledgehammer. The wind kicked some of the dust they were stirring into his eyes, and he had to take a moment to blink until they were clear. By then, she’d bested him again.
This time Noble went balls to the wall, beating the posts in as fast as his body could go. When he looked up again, they were neck and neck, the same number of posts.
Don’t tell me we’re matched. We ain’t matched in any way, shape or form.
But even after another hour of hard labor, with both of them slowing now, neither seemed to be able to get ahead of the other.
“Guess we call it a truce,” he called over to her.
She shook her head. “Not on your life, Watkins.”
He grunted before letting another blow of the sledgehammer fly. “Suit yourself. I can go all day.”
She narrowed her eyes in that way he was coming to find such a turn-on. “So can I.”
A trickle of warm ran through his groin at the thought of her having the same sort of stamina in bed, but he daren’t say what was on his mind, or he’d find himself buried in this very pasture.
He smiled to himself.
Chapter Four
Noble had been in a bad mood since the damn wake-up alarm went off and he heard Gracie’s feet hit the floor before any others.
The woman was a try-hard, and nobody liked a kiss-ass suck-up. Especially him.
He’d known her type in high school and various jobs he’d worked before settling in to help his father with the hauling business. She was so focused on some invisible gold medal—in this case, the permanent ranch position.
After he stumbled out of the bathroom, first thing he saw was Gracie’s round ass, in Levis so tight she looked about to split them with the slightest movement, as she strode out the door of the bunkhouse to start ahead of the rest of them.
Noble barely had time to gulp down his coffee, burning his mouth in the process, and stuff a bacon sandwich into his stomach before Langtry was ordering them all out into the yard to get the day’s instructions.
It wasn’t even light, the horizon just showing a flicker of dark blue that seemed to hold up the blacker sky from the fields below. Noble spread his legs wide and fixed his stare on Langtry, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gracie sidling up beside Minich. The cowpoke gave her a crooked grin, and she answered with a nod.
A small gesture that set Noble off even more.
She looked up and caught him staring, but he didn’t care—he didn’t move his gaze away.
He arched a brow, and she arched one right back. His guts shouldn’t clench at such a thing, yet here he stood with his balls aching all of a sudden.
As Langtry told them their first chore was to take the horses the others had been training for six months or more up to the trail and let them have a real ride that wasn’t around the paddock, Noble studied Gracie openly.
Her hat was pushed back enough to see her face clearly. Beautiful eyes and strong brows, a feminine, straight nose and lips that would either slice a man to ribbons with the words that came out of them or slay him with an upward quirk of a smile.
So far, he’d never been on the receiving end of one of those smiles. None of them had. She was as serious as a case of the scours in a newborn calf.
As Noble stared at her face, he found what he really liked about her was the stubborn tilt of her chin. It bore a small divot perfect for his thumb if he ever had a chance to tip her head back and claim her mouth.
Dropping his gaze over her tan western shirt and the line of pearl buttons, he landed on her tiny waist that flared into hips he could envision sinking his fingers into all too easy.
Another tick downward of his eyes and he was staring at what he knew were powerful thighs even hidden away in her jeans. And between them…
He jerked his gaze up to find hers locked on him. Since she wasn’t scowling, she must not have realized he was examining her so close. He felt his mouth dry out as she cut her gaze over his chest and lower over the rest of his body.
His cock took notice and started to swell.
“Mount up, everyone.” Langtry’s voice jerked him from his moment of insanity. Thank God. He didn’t need to let his imagination get carried away with Gracie. She was like the worst tasting cough syrup inside a pretty package. As a kid, he’d drank enough of the stuff to know he didn’t want a taste.
But the seed was planted—deep. He couldn’t shake the idea of having Gracie… rolling in the grass, under the stars, hard and pounding over a hay bale. All the rest of the morning while they took the cautious newbie horses out on the trail, his mind, and eyes, kept wandering to her.
She rode up ahead of him, giving him a torturous view of her ass shifting around in the saddle. She handled her horse with expert skill, and if he was honest, she definitely deserved a spot on the ranch.
He just wanted the other one.
Minich trotted up next to her and when he said something, she tipped her head back and laughed.
The sound reached into Noble’s brain and tugged at strings connected to parts he didn’t know he had. The pull on his groin he knew well enough. But his mouth twisted into a scowl he couldn’t reason out until she laughed again at Minich’s words.
Jealousy.
He didn’t like her talking to the guy, riding next to him… and especially not finding him amusing.
In Noble’s book, the guy was a lot weaker than he made himself out to be. He might have enough training to get by so far without mishap, but it was only a matter of time before he tripped up and got himself, an animal or another cowpoke hurt.
Gracie was holding a conversation with the asshole too. Noble’d never seen the like of that before. She kept to herself mostly, only answering or questioning as needed. Head down, work hard seemed to be her motto.
It was Noble’s as well.
The rest of the day, he struggled to keep his focus on his tasks and ignore how friendly Gracie was with Minich. When they partnered up for fence duty, Noble heaved a sigh and headed to the opposite side of the line with Tank, determined not to let it bother him.
Why was it bothering him, anyway? He didn’t have a damn clue.
Dinnertime came and went, with everyone taking a nap in the field as usual before evening chores. He tried his best to drift off too, but he was too restless. Instead, he took off walking. There was a spot on the Blackburn his father had mentioned several times, a beautiful lookout and prime place to think.
He needed that right now.
The country was beautiful, green and lush. Grasses swished against his boots and calves as he mounted the small crest of the hill. Planting one boot ahead of him, he took a knee and gave a moment of thanks for the life he had.
Then he sank down to his behind and slung one arm around his knee. Taking a deep breath, he savored the flavors of the air. Five minutes moved to ten.
To think his dad had once sat here looking out at the same landscape gave him a feeling of homesickness for his father. He wondered if he’d gotten the old engine repaired.
If Noble earned his spot here, the job would mean not seeing his father much, but the old man would be proud of him.
He looked up at a grunting noise to see the long legs that had haunted him all day suddenly beside him.
He peered at Gracie. “Didn’t know I was getting company,” he said.
“I didn’t know you were up here. I’ll go.”
“You don’t have to. It’s a free hill.” He waved a hand.
She hesitated a moment before sitting down several feet away from him. They sat in silence for a long moment.
“You asked what my reason is for being here,” he said at last. “It’s this.”
She turned her head to fix him in her gaze. The blue of her eyes burned so intense from beneath her hat that he didn’t know if it was a good idea to be alone with her.
He went on, “This spot. My dad sat here when he worked the Blackburn and my grandfather before him. Three generations of us.”
She nodded. “I see.”
“You did real good with the horses this morning.”
With a direct look that felt like an arrow shooting through his chest, she lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Doesn’t much matter to me what you think of my skills, as long as Langtry and Blackburn think I’m worthy.”
Noble shook his head. “You don’t always need to be a hard ass, you know, Gracie.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that we’re all in this together.”
“We’re pitted against each other.”
“Doesn’t mean you can’t make a friend.” He bit off the rest of his sentence about her being pretty chummy with Minich.
“Noble, we’re always going to have to agree to disagree. We’re too different.” Her use of his name was another punch right to the solar plexus. He pushed out a breath and tried to keep himself from crawling across the grass and hauling her over his lap.
Trouble was, he didn’t know if he’d spank her round bottom or kiss her senseless.
“Probably more alike than you think,” he muttered.
“Look, I’m not in this for the friendship.” She got to her feet and turned to go.
“Too bad,” he said quietly. “I could use a friend.”
Her step faltered as she headed back down the hill, but she didn’t look back.
*
* * * *
Gracie whacked the sledgehammer into the fence post with all her might, hoping to drive it in deeper and faster than the twenty others before it. This fence would not best her—though it was trying its damnedest.
She was in need of a cold dunk in the pond and a clean set of clothes. The morning was ninety degrees at least, and she was soaked in sweat and grime. To top things off, her fence partner was Noble.
She swore Langtry paired them just to torture her. He knew how well she’d been working with Minich over the course of the week, so why the change?
She swung the sledgehammer to the ground and shot a glare at Noble. He stood not far off, enjoying a cold beverage while she exhausted herself with the fence posts. Though, to be fair, she had insisted she could do the hammering part.
Seeing her looking at him, he lowered the jug of sweet tea and backhanded his wet lips. “Want me to take over?”
She did. She just didn’t want to admit it.
“You’re not doing bad,” he said with a healthy dollop of cheer that set her teeth together in a hard snap.
“Bad for what? A girl?” She hoisted the heavy sledgehammer and delivered a crushing blow to the fence post that drove it three inches into the dirt. “Don’t go puttin’ an asterisk by my name, Watkins.”
He waved a hand. “Gracie Dalton is damn good with a sledgehammer—asterisk—for a girl.”
“Well at least I don’t smell as bad as you,” she bit off, swinging again.
“No?” He moved up close and took a good sniff of the air surrounding her.
“No,” she returned.
She might be a tomboy, a cowpoke and prided herself on being a hard worker, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have enough female sensibility to want to smell good.
She gave herself a secret sniff as she lifted the sledge once more. Yeah, she smelled. Still, it wasn’t as bad as Noble.
“I can do this work as well as any man here or better,” she said.
He leaned against the post she’d just drilled into the ground before it with nothing more than backbreaking muscle, sweat and drive.
“Stop taking notes on everything I’m doing.” She bit off the words between smacks on the post.
