Page 35 of White Collar Rancher

“Guess what? I’m flying to London next week. Papa Patel didn’t want me to get homesick over Thanksgiving.”

Tears pricked the backs of Priya’s eyes. Her grandfather who didn’t celebrate Thanksgiving and never visited for the holiday when he’d lived in America was going to recognize the day for Devya. Why had she answered the phone? “Tell them—” She had to clear her throat. “Tell them hi for me.”

“I will. I should let you go. I’m probably keeping you from exciting weekend plans.”

Her weekend was wide-open now. “No. I’ll probably help Justin Walker with his new baby.” She squeezed her eyes. Why had she said that? It would inspire questions.

“Oooh, Justin.” Another laugh that proved Devya lived life at full speed. “I would ask if he was anyone a sister should have to worry about, but come on.”

Priya glared out the window. “What do you mean?”

“You? Like, a rancher’s wife? Living out in the country? With animals that walk in their own poo? Pri-Pri. You’d go crazy.” There was that laugh again, only it was at Priya’s expense. “You wear leather, you don’t grow it.”

“He raises sheep.”

“And you prefer cashmere. That’s goat wool, FYI.”

Enough of this. “We’re just friends, and he needs a hand.”

“As long as he’s not using you.” Her spontaneous sister was suddenly serious. “Promise me you’re going to do something this weekend that you need. Take care of yourself for once.”

She flashed back to the moment she’d told Devya that Emmett had broken up with her. Good. Now you can do something for yourself instead of what Emmett always needs.

Her baby sister surprised her sometimes. “I promise.”

“I miss you.” Devya sighed wistfully as a new round of music started. “I don’t miss Moore, but I miss you. And Mom and Dad. Grandma and Grandpa.”

Priya frowned at the longing in those words. Suddenly, she was grateful Papa Patel was looking out for Devya. But that was how it worked. They all worried about Dev. “Give Papa and Nana a big hug—for me and for yourself.”

“Yes— Oh, my friends are here. Bye!”

The line went dead. Priya stared at the phone. You? Like, a rancher’s wife? She’d ignore Devya’s comment but not the rest of her advice. Do something for herself.

That would be spending the night with Justin. That should qualify because of their deal. He wasn’t using her. They were using each other.

He should be irritated.

Priya was on her knees, that beautiful hair spilling out of a messy bun and caressing her neck, her pert ass in the air, giving him a look as wicked as the one he’d been graced with the night before.

He made sure his expression told her exactly what he thought of her position. “Rub it hard, baby.”

She laughed but didn’t miss a beat as she scoured the bathtub. He gave it a good wipe every… Well, he didn’t have a schedule, but he didn’t live in filth.

He’d just come back inside from fixing a busted corral in the barn. Isaiah was cooing in his bouncy chair outside the bathroom and Priya was cleaning.

“Is everything all right?” He thought she would go home on Saturday, but she’d mentioned plans with her parents falling through. Some surprise trip.

Last weekend, he’d only had one short night with her. It was Sunday, and he enjoyed having her around way too much. But when she got up in her head, the cleaning supplies came out.

“Fine.”

“Uh-huh. That’s why you wiped down the entire kitchen yesterday and dusted both floors of the house.” A cute little furrow developed between her brows and he kept going. “You should talk, or next week I might unleash you on the basement.”

Her scowl turned to a playful glare. “I like cleaning.”

He should walk away. She didn’t want to talk to him. Fine. But her evasiveness curdled in his gut. “Do you like it, or does it become an itch you have to scratch?”

She sat back on her heels, her blue-rubber-gloved hands hanging over the edge of the tub. Whatever she was using didn’t fume up the place. He’d have to get pointers from her. “It’s an itch. You got me.”

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