Page 50 of Nanny for the Cowboy

“Your parents? Are they around or…”

I let the question hang, not wanting to be insensitive, but Brooks shakes his head with a light chuckle.

“They’re alive. They live up north, closer to the mountains. They wanted to retire and not have to take care of the farm. They still come down to visit. You’ve just missed them because Dad got sick. He’s fine now.”

I relax, taking another bite of my sandwich, which I’m about halfway through. “Oh, well, good. I know what it’s like to miss parents. It’s been nice to have my dad so close. Or me so close, I guess. You get me.”

“I do.”

He nods, and there’s a flicker in his eyes when he agrees with me as if he really does understand something about me that I haven’t said. I stifle a slight shiver as a cool wind blows over us.

“So, it’s always been farm life, huh? No desire to check out a big city?” I look over at Brooks, and he makes that “Are you kidding?” face.

“Can you really seemein a city?” We eye each other before I laugh and shake my head. “Exactly. I’m meant for the quiet life. I’m good with my hands, with the animals. More importantly, I like it. In fact, Iloveit.”

As I finish chewing another bite, I pull out the piece of paper towel Brooks gave me as a napkin from under the plate. Wiping my mouth, I think about what I miss most about the city.

Weirdly, there isn’t much. Just my job.

“I guess I can understand that. But,” I look over at Brooks, running my stare up and down his body, “I still think it would be amazing to see you in a business suit.”

He laughs, rolling his eyes as he leans back against the barn wall behind him. “That’s a no. Unless it’s a funeral, no one is catching me dead in a suit.”

“Oh, come on. They’re not that bad. I mean, at least you don’t have to wear heels.”

Brooks looks down at my feet, currently clad in a pair of work boots I got from town a few days after I arrived.

“Last time I checked neither do you.”

Eyeing him, I drop my head to the side and fold my arms over my chest. “Yeah, you’d think. Unfortunately, there are some real…‘traditional’ folks still doing business. They get weird about women wearing pants, for fuck’s sake.”

Blurting out a laugh, Brooks looks down, shaking his head. “Traditional, huh? That’s one way to put it, I guess. Still, you don’t seem like the type of person to let that slide.”

I’m not sure why, but I’m really happy that Brooks thinks that about me. I try to put on that “I take no shit” vibe pretty often, but I’ll admit that it’s been difficult when I’ve been literally shoveling the stuff.

“Ha, well, I’m usually not. But sometimes you gotta make a client happy.” My mind flits back to Kyle, and I’m suddenly entirely done with my sandwich. “But whatever, right? You roll with the punches.”

Nodding, Brooks turns down the corners of his mouth again, and I hate that it looks so good on him.

“That you do.” He rubs absently over his recently freed arm. “Life can throw a lot at you, so yeah. You make the best of what you have. That I agree with.”

“Oh, well, don’t go letting that get out. What will people think if they know you’re siding with a city girl?”

He narrows his eyes at me playfully, that glare doing things to my insides. Abruptly, the memory of our near-kiss pushes forward into my mind from the recesses of my subconscious.

“Ha. You’re hilarious.” Brooks’s dry tone is accented by just a hint of his actual amusement.

“I have my moments, don’t I?” With a smile, I finish the last bite of my sandwich and then stand up. “Where are yours?”

Dropping the plate into Brooks’s lap, I smirk. I know I’m being a terrible tease, but I can’t help it. He’s just so fun to mess with. Pushing his buttons is one of my new favorite things.

Brooks stands up, clutching the plate in his left hand, the one now free of a cast, and I don’t know what it is about seeing him without it, but it’s that much harder to deny that he’s fucking gorgeous.

As he towers over me, facing me down with his intense stare, another whisk of wind rushes by, this one a bit colder. I shiver, goosebumps rippling over my skin. Brooks seems to notice.

Jesus, is it the wind? Or it is…dammit.

“You going to say ‘thank you’ now that you’ve finished your food? Or am I supposed to just take this plate inside without another word?”

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