Page 13 of Second Chance with the Rancher

Chapter Four

He found her out in the barn nuzzling Macklin who was eating up her affection like the attention-whore that he was.

“This is usually where I come, too, when I’m tired of hearing them,” he said, startling her only slightly when he approached. “Here or the hot tub with a joint and two ounces of scotch. But they’re often out there fucking, too.”

“You need your own place, dude,” she said, kissing Macklin’s velvety nose.

“Asher and Triss are already planning to build. They’ve mapped out the section of the property they’re going to develop and have blueprints. I think they’re breaking ground in a couple of weeks.”

“Thank fuck, huh?” she said with a snort. “Until then, you might need to move to the hayloft. I’ve heard pregnant chicks can be freaky horny.”

That made him laugh. “If she demands more of my brother than she already does, the man’s dick is going to fall off.”

“He still has a tongue, so I don’t think she’ll care.” She kissed Macklin once more, then moved down the line to the next horse, which happened to be Nate’s horse, Umber.

“Fair enough,” Nate said with a grin. He’d never gotten to use his tongue on Mieka the way he wanted to. They’d made out like sloppy drunk morons, then she hiked up her bridesmaid dress and he pulled down his dress trousers and took her up against the wall of the barn outside.

If he was being honest, he was a little ashamed at how unromantic and kind of crass the whole thing ended up being. Sure, it was hot, and she got off—though it took her a while—but Mieka deserved so much more than a quick drunk fuck in the dark against rough wood that could put splinters in her ass cheeks.

He pulled his vape pen out of the pocket of his gray sweats, turned it on and took a couple of puffs, making sure to blow them away from the horses’ stalls. Not that vape smoke was anywhere near as bad as real cigarette or joint smoke, but he wasn’t going to be a dick either way.

“That’s the smoking pen?” she asked, scratching behind Umber’s soft brown ears.

“Why do you keep saying it like that?”

“Like what?”

“The smoking. The joints. You keep adding the to the beginning. It’s weird.”

She shrugged. “I’m stoned. I also give zero fucks. I have no fucks left to give. I broke my arm, essentially got fired because I’m old and washed up. And did I tell you that I was sort of seeing a bartender on the ship and when he found out they didn’t renew my contract and why, he dumped me, too? My well of fucks to give hath runneth empty.”

Nate’s eyes went wide. “You never said anything about a boyfriend.” His forearms began to tingle and he had to clench his fists to keep from wanting to put them through the face of the dumb fuck who thought dumping Mieka was okay.

“He thought I was younger. Thought I was twenty-six.”

“Did you tell him you were twenty-six?”

She shook her head, reached for his vape pen and took a long pull off it. She held it in her lungs for a while, then when she went to expel the smoke, she started to cough. “That’s strong,” she said through coughing fits, her eyes beginning to water.

“Careful.”

“I never told him I was twenty-six. Our ages never came up. We didn’t do a ton of talking about ourselves if you know what I mean?” She rolled her eyes. “I’m not broken-hearted about him. He was just a good time and I knew it wasn’t going to go anywhere. And I guess I should be flattered that he thought I was younger. But there is such ageism in this country—in this world—and it fucking sucks.”

Nate nodded and took back the vape pen. Tonight was one of those nights he would need more than just a couple of puffs. Hearing about Mieka’s bartender friend with benefits or whatever he was made him see red even though he knew it shouldn’t.

“So are you like some sort of horse whisperer or something?” she asked, changing the subject and moving on to the next horse, Jim Jam, who was a horse they boarded for a local family. She was a beautiful Palomino with a sweet disposition and the patience of a saint. She gave Jim Jam some attention which the horse ate up as fast as she could.

“Horses are easy once you understand that all they want is love, kindness and patience. They’re skittish around big noises and abrupt movements, and they learn people and their true intentions quickly. I get that because I’m like that, too. So as long as I recognize what they need and give that to them, then we never have any issues.”

“I only ask because you were whispering a bunch of stuff to Callie and I thought maybe you two had your own language or something.” She moved over to the next horse, Pom-Pom, a brown mare they’d owned for several years.

“I just told her how amazing she did and that I loved her and wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her. It’s more the tone than anything. The attention and the kindness that they respond to. I could have been reciting a recipe for pickled eggs and as long as the tone was right and she felt my calm it wouldn’t have mattered.”

Mieka made a garbled noise in her throat that was probably some kind of a laugh. “Pickled eggs?”

“Fucking delicious. Especially in an egg salad sandwich.” Shit, now he was hungry again.

“I might have to try it.”

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