Page 31 of Her Dirty Defender

“Did you just throw a three-quarter inch at my livestock?” Angus calls out.

“Your ‘livestock’ ran off with the last gasket in three counties.” She straightens, wiping her hands on a rag. “And it was a five-eighths, thank you very much. I'm not wasting the good tools on your demon spawn.”

“George, this is Beckett,” Angus sweeps a hand between us like he's conducting introductions at a church social. “He'll be handling security while he stays with us. Beckett, meet Georgina Lucas, though she'll deck you if you call her anything but George.”

She looks up. And freezes.

Heat licks up my spine as her sharp gaze locks onto mine. The same sky-blue eyes I lost myself in that night. The same lips that begged me for more, that I devoured like a man starved.

Recognition hits her like a physical blow. Her mouth opens. Closes. The wrench in her hand creaks under white-knuckled pressure. She blinks before she schools her expression into something unreadable.

But I see it.

The flicker of shock. The same kind ofoh, shitthat’s currently pulsing through my veins.

Well, this just got interesting.

“You two know each other?” Angus asks, finally catching the tension.

“No,” George says immediately, voice clipped.

“Yeah,” I say at the same time. I can't help the smirk that curves my mouth. Not when she's trying so hard to pretend I'm a stranger. Not when I can see the pulse jumping in her throat.

Her eyes narrow at my deliberate contradiction. The flush creeping up her neck matches the one I put there two nights ago.

Angus looks between us, confused. “Which is it?”

“We've met. Briefly.” I keep my voice neutral, but I can't stop watching her. The way she shifts her weight, ready to bolt. The slight tremble in her hands that betrays her composure.

“Right.” Angus still looks confused. “Well, George keeps our equipment running. Beckett is staying at the ranch and helping with security for a while.” He smirks. “Plus, whatever other jobs I can talk him into around here.”

George looks ready to strangle someone.

I let my gaze drift over her, deliberate, heated.

Because now?

I have questions.

What is she doing working here? Why didn’t she say anything? And why, after one night of her in my arms, do I already want to pull her right back?

But most importantly, why the hell didn’t her parents consider that Georgina would be shortened to George? BecauseGeorge Lucas?That right there is gonna give mehoursof fun.

“If you're done with introductions, I've got work to do.” George grabs her wrench, pointedly not looking at me. "Unless you boys need something specific?"

Angus sighs, running a hand over his face. “Actually, yeah. Beckett here needs something to do while he's staying. Since he knows fuck-all about ranching?—”

“Hey,” I protest. “I can learn.”

“The last time you tried to help with livestock, you traumatized my father's prize bull.”

“That was one time. And in my defense, who keeps a bull named Sunshine?”

George snorts, then quickly covers it with a cough.

“Point is,” Angus continues, “we need help with equipment maintenance. Can't afford new gear, so we need to keep the old stuff running.”

“That's your cue,” George says, turning back to the truck. “Unless you plan on teaching Mr. Security here how to rebuild a transmission?”

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