Page 22 of My Cowboy Trouble
"Everything looks like foreplay to you," I tell him.
"That's because everything is foreplay if you do it right." He waggles his eyebrows. "Trent's looking for you two, by the way. Something about fixing the wrong fence? He's got that vein popping out on his forehead."
"The angry vein or the really angry vein?"
"The one that means someone's about to get their ass handed to them." Gavin's looking between us with way too much interest. "Also, dinner's ready. Unless you two would rather stay out here and... fix more fence. Or have more disagreements. Or whatever you're calling it."
Kenzie climbs into my truck, her wet clothes squelching against the seat. "We were just finishing up."
"I bet you were." Gavin gives me a look that says we'll be talking about this later. "Better hurry back. Trent's in a mood."
"When isn't he?"
"Fair point. But this is an extra-special mood. He found out someone taught the city girl to fix the wrong fence." He grins at me. "Wonder who would do something like that?"
As I drive us back to the ranch, Kenzie's quiet beside me, but I can see her fighting a smile. Her shirt is still damp, clinging in ways that are making it hard to focus on the road.
"What?" I ask when I catch her looking at me.
"Nothing. Just... Clara Mae was right about one thing."
"What's that?"
She looks over at me, eyes sparkling with mischief and something else. Something that makes my chest tight. "You do have good hands. For fence repair, I mean."
"Just fence repair?"
"I'll let you know."
I glance over at her, this city girl with hay in her hair and dirt under her nails, who paid twelve dollars for fancy lettuce and fixed the wrong fence with enthusiasm, and I realize I'm in trouble. Big trouble. The kind that doesn't go away when she leaves in twenty-six days.
"For what it's worth," I tell her as we pull up to the ranch, "you're a natural at fence repair."
"Even if it was the wrong fence?"
"Especially because it was the wrong fence. Anyonecan fix the right fence. It takes talent to fix the wrong one."
She laughs, climbing out of the truck. "You're so full of shit."
"Part of my charm."
"Is that what we're calling it?"
Trent's standing on the porch, arms crossed, that vein definitely popping. "Asher. Kenzie. Nice of you to join us."
"Trent," I say cheerfully. "Beautiful evening, isn't it?"
"Section fifteen is about to fall over."
"Is it? We should probably fix that."
"You fixed section twelve."
"Did we? Huh. Must have gotten confused."
Kenzie pipes up, "To be fair, section twelve looks amazing now."
Trent's jaw tightens. "That's not the point."
