Page 24 of The Back Forty
I look away fast. It’s completely inappropriate for me to stare. She’s my employee. My new VP. My… coworker who occasionally makes my brain short-circuit when she reads my mind and does that cute little nose scrunch when she hates my idea but doesn't want to say it and it comes out anyways.
She’s the best hire I’ve ever made. Wicked smart, adaptable, doesn’t flinch under pressure. And yeah, the night we met at Whitewood Creek Bar, before I knew who she was, there was a spark. She laid into me about my outdated marketing strategy, fast-talking like she had something to prove. And I remember thinking—for one brief second—about what else that mouth might be good at. Images of it wrapped around my cock, another meaningless hook-up before I took off on a flight away from my family, away from my home. Something to take the edge off the aching loneliness that I always feel.
But that was before I knew her. Before I respected her.
And since then? I’ve slept with other women. She would’ve just been another one, back then. But now I know her, and I know better. Thank fuck we didn't cross that line before we knew because she’s a woman I wouldn’t have been able to forget.
“I brought lunch,” she says with a grin, nudging my hip playfully before setting the bags down. "And a bottle of water just for you since I noticed you left yours on the counter at home."
Uh, that was super thoughtful.
“Hell yeah,” Cash says, wiping sweat from his brow and lunging for a sandwich like a man starved. Colt joins him, dropping histools and diving in, baked beans, mac and cheese, pulled pork from that little BBQ on the main road where we've always eaten.
“And hey guys,” Dani adds, “this is my big sister, Catalina.”
The woman behind her steps forward, a touch more reserved with brows that pinch slightly as she looks us over. People always stare at us when we're together. Three muscular guys over six-foot three. Colt with his shaved head and tattoos, Cash with his flirty smile, dark hair and quit wit and then me. We draw attention wherever we go and the way that Catalina’s looking at us now is no different.
She looks like Dani, same deep brown eyes and high cheekbones, but there’s something sharper in her smile. A little more edge, a little more steel. And her eyes aren't that same round, soft, doe shape that Dani's have framed with thick black lashes.
She holds out a hand. “Hi. Lawson, right? I’ve heard alotabout my sister’s ruthless boss.”
I smile. “Hopefully not all bad.” I take Catalina’s hand in a firm shake, but my eyes stay trained on Dani—who doesn’t even bother hiding her smug little smile knowing she's been talking shit.
Of course, she told her sister I was a pain in the ass. Frankly, I was at the beginning, so I know I deserve this. I like that about her. She doesn’t sugarcoat. Doesn’t coddle. Doesn’t kiss ass or hold back, even when she probably should. There’ve been times I’ve shown her a new pitch, and she’s told me straight up she hates it and has no idea what I was thinking creating such a mess.
That’s rare. Especially around here. A lot of women, once they clock the Marshall last name or take in the cowboy boots, single dad, and calloused hands, start pretending I’m something I’m not. They get this glazed look in their eyes and act like I'm morethan I am. Say all the right things, pitch their voices sweet, try to flatter their way ahead into my bed.
I hate that shit which is why I haven't seriously dated since Beckham's mom.
For a minute, when I first hired Dani, I was half-worried she’d be the same. Smart, ambitious, fresh out of a job she hated in Silicon Valley and maybe thinking the way up was through someone like me. But she hasn’t once played that game.
She calls me out when I’m being a snappy dick to her. Tells me when I’m snoring like a freight train on red eyes. Reorders my schedule and picks up flights when Beckham as sporting events I don't want to miss. Doesn’t flinch at the Marshall name, and definitely doesn’t pretend I’m some charming local hero just because I know how to fix a tractor and wear a button-down.
And thank fuck for that—because if she did, I probably wouldn't trust her as much as I do.
“You girls coming to help?” I ask lazily, letting go of Catalina’s hand and sliding my hands into my pockets.
“We were,” Dani says, brushing a piece of windblown hair off her cheek. “But I’ve got interviews.”
My brow lifts. “Already?”
She grins, pleased with herself. “Would you expect anything less? My boss is a tyrant. He wants my new assistant hired and trained before we’re back to work in two weeks. Plus, I'm ready to cash in on my first VP paycheck which by the way, you haven't told me about my new pay yet.”
I huff a laugh. Colt snorts behind me. Cash tosses in, “Your boss sounds like a real asshole. You should file a complaint to HR.”
“He is,” she deadpans. “I'll take it up with Regan in a few minutes. She's helping me with the interviews too,” she adds in, “Actually, I think all the girls are coming.”
That has my brows lifting again. “We’re still hiring based on skill, right?”
She crosses her arms. “Do you really think I’d hire someone who sucks?”
I narrow my eyes, trying not to smile. “Hmm.” I rub my jaw as I look at her—really look at her. Big brown eyes framed by messy strands of dark hair, olive skin glowing under the cloudless sky. She meets my gaze with a bright, knowing look, like she’s fully aware I’m scrutinizing her and enjoying every second of it.
Before I can say anything else, she spins on her heel and grabs Catalina’s hand. “But I can’t speak for Rae,” she tosses over her shoulder with a wink. “She’s calling it a casting call for a new boyfriend for Lydia.”
“Dani,” I growl, warning low in my throat because I can't figure out why it pisses me off to think about her and these women that I love drooling over some small town boys. Especially one that she's going to be working closely with.
But she’s already halfway across the parking lot, her laugh trailing behind her. I turn back to the floats, shaking my head and muttering a curse, only to find both my younger brothers staring at me with wide, smug grins.
