Sweat is dripping down between my ass cheeks.Dripping. I swear to everything on this damned earth, it should not be this hot when I have to be working this hard.

And it’s not like the antiperspirant deodorant can actually keep up with this weather. I could have the entire stick on me, and I have a feeling I’d still be melting like a mobster on trial.

“Ugh, fuck me.”

“Excuse me?”

Brooks’s voice booms from behind me, and I spin around so fast that the bag of feed I’m holding flings out a bunch of the stuff and hits Brooks in the face.

My free hand flies to my face as I see him standing there with a plate of lunch and spitting out feed that apparently landed in his mouth. The heavy bag flops onto my foot, and it immediately starts throbbing.

“Ow!” I yank my foot back, reaching for it, but Brooks holds up a hand, his eyes going wide as I bounce on one foot backward.

“Clover. Clover!”

Because, of course, what I don’t notice is the open barn door behind me. As I stumble backward, I walk right into it, the edge of the wood smacking right into my spine.

Foot aching, back on fire, I fling forward, and I’m suddenly in Brooks’s arms. The chaos and unlucky streak crash to a halt, and I stand there leaning on him as I catch my breath.

“You know,” he helps me back to my feet, guiding me over to a hay bale where he gets me to sit, “I think I’ve learned not to sneak up on you.”

I sigh, dropping my head as I sit on this pokey hay square that jabs me in the ass through my jeans.

“Here.”

Looking up, Brooks hands me the plate, and I see the sandwich on it—turkey with lettuce and tomatoes. I meet his stare, my chest swelling.

“You made me lunch?”

The corners of his mouth turn down, and he folds his arms over his chest, a different sight now that the cast is gone.

“When you didn’t come inside, I figured you might be hungry.”

“Oh no!”I jump to my feet, ready to set the plate down. “I totally forgot to come in and fix something for you and Darby. I’m so sorry. I’ll go in?—”

Brooks’s hands land on my shoulders, and he forces me back down. “Don’t worry about it. Just eat.”

“I…” The hay comes up to meet me, jabbing me in the ass again as Brooks insists that I take a load off. “Thank you.”

Settling into the bale, I rest the plate on my lap and pick up the sandwich. Taking a bite, I taste mustard, which I told him weeks ago I like better than mayo.

“You remembered.” I look over at where he’s decided to sit next to me on another hay bale.

Nodding, Brooks doesn’t say anything. I don’t know how he does it, but when he’s quiet like that it’s like I can hear his thoughts.

He doesn’t want to admit that he was paying attention.

He made me a sandwich…just…because.

Smiling, I take another bite, my stomach thrilled for the food. I definitely needed to eat and just got too wrapped up in what I was doing. The silence around us is too much, though, so I swallow and work to fill it with small talk.

“So, why a ranch? Why’d you want to do all this work?”

Brooks raises his brows as I disturb the silence, looking over at me like he half-expected me to just let it be quiet. As if.

“I inherited the ranch. I want to give it to Darby.” Brooks has a way of saying something that should be emotional with such utter monotone and deadpan that it’s hilarious. “I think my folks would like that.”

It’s been a few weeks since I arrived, and I’ve not heard Brooks talk about his parents much.