Page 83 of Small Town Firsts
Kira wasn’t a runner—she was far worse.
She would simply freeze me out and I wasn’t sure how long a thaw would take.
Beckett cracked his back and stretched his arms over his head. “Okay, now I’m officially starving too.”
Kain grunted. “That six gallon jug over there was starting to look tasty.”
I went into the small cupboard where I kept my extra clothes, tossing a T-shirt at Kain. He frowned at me. “Pretty sure Kira wouldn’t appreciate you being half naked with her interviews starting.”
“Bah.” But he pulled the shirt over his head and wound his wild hair into a messy knot at the top of his head. “Better?”
“Marginally.”
Beckett snorted. “Doesn’t help with how ripe you two are.”
“Yeah. I don’t think I can push my luck with a shower.”
Beckett’s eyebrows shot up. “That janky thing still works back there?”
“Kind of.” I laughed. “I used it after I got mash all over me recently.”
“I suppose we need a place for you to clean up—safety regulations and all. I’ll have Justin hook up a real station back there with some big sinks.”
“Appreciated.”
Beckett nodded. “Think Kira would kill us if we raided the fridge?”
I tugged a Brothers Three T-shirt over my head. “We do have a brand spanking new kitchen. Or we can go into Happy Acres. The bakery should be open.” Not that I could really leave Kira to take care of the interviews since I bailed on her yesterday, but it might be preferable to our bedraggled appearance.
I could hear Kain’s stomach growling. “What kind of kitchen?”
“Top of the line,” I said carefully. “Better than my setup at the cabin.”
“An Easy Bake Oven would be better than what you have,Boa.”
Beckett shook his head with a rueful smile. “You two sound just like me and Justin.”
I pulled open the second set of doors to let the cross breeze kill the rest of the stank in the workshop. I made a cursory pitstop in the shed to make sure my gauges looked okay, made a quick note on my clipboard on two of the tanks that needed to be watched, and closed up to meet them outside.
Kain was scanning the property in that calculating way he had. Not as disgusted as the way he’d looked over my house at least.
“What do you think?” I asked as I came up to them. “You’re the?—”
Kain gave me a subtle shake of his head. Right—kind of incognito. I didn’t blame him. When people found out he was an architect questions came fast and furiously. Kain the billionaire was a whole secondary level of fuckery.
“You’ve got the fresh eyes,” I said, editing myself.
Kain put his hands on his hips. He nodded absently toward the taproom, but his attention was on the orchard below. “This place has limitless possibilities.” He whistled softly and tucked his hands into his pockets. “But man, that view.” He stepped closer to the edge of the property and gave a delighted laugh.
“That’s a horse.”
“That’s Storm,” Beckett said with a grin.
Kain went right over to the horse and laid a hand on its massive neck. He ducked his head down then straightened. “Hey, boy.”
The horse whinnied and chuffed, chewing at the hem of Kain’s shirt.
“He’s looking for a carrot.”
