Page 15 of Unmasked Rivalry
“Callie,” I nod, my voice monotone.
Knox stares at me and narrows his eyes at my clipped tone but doesn’t say anything about it. “Somebody cut this on purpose,” he points to the fence. “You see anyone around?”
I shake my head. “No one since Cupp. But the cows could have walked right onto the highway last night.”
Reese steps in, flipping her hair with practiced grace. “Do, like, animals just wander off here? I mean, isn’t that how, you know, we get lost pets and stuff?”
I stare. Is she for real? “Daisy,” I say, motioning to the cow who is looking at Reese now, like she might just hate her more than me, “wouldn’t survive ten minutes in town. She’d be a six-o’clock news headline.”
Reese makes a face, like I’ve told her her eyelash extensions are uneven.
Knox pulls pliers from his pocket, bends the wire together, and gestures for me to hold the ends. “Put your hands here and keep this tight so I can pull it together.”
I do, and he works fast, but his arms are close, his body heat horribly noticeable, and for an impossible second, I wonder what it would be like if this was normal: a man helping me fix a fence, not because someone wanted to scare us but because thetwo of us actually gave a shit about the land or each other. But then Reese giggles, and the fantasy shatters.
The fence is almost fixed when Reese gets bored, whips out her phone, and angles for a selfie with Daisy.
“Could you,” she asks, angling my way, “move so you’re not in the shot?”
I stare at her, not believing she is actually asking that. Instead, I let her go closer to Daisy, who is not snorting in protest. This should be fun. I grin as Daisy drops her head and slams it through the fence and into Reese’s hip, sending her and her phone flying onto the ground.
“Oh my god!” she cries when she lands with a thump. “That cow is horrible.”
“Oh, whoops, I should have told you,” I grin. “She doesn’t like stupid people.”
She glares at me, and Knox helps her up, his eyes fixed on me. Once she’s on her feet, she turns and stomps off for the truck, clutching her phone. Knox watches her go, then glances at me, deadpan. “You’re a bitch.”
I shrug. “I didn’t see you warning her, either. Besides, I picked you as someone who had a little more taste than that.”
He glares at me. “Jealous?”
“Of her? Please.”
He grins, and I want to punch him in the face. “She’s a decent lay.”
“Ew, I don’t care.”
“Been a while then, has it?”
Oh, he is rubbing me the wrong way.
“None of your business, buddy.”
He grunts, but I swear I can see the hint of amusement in his features.
He goes back to wrapping the last bit of wire. “You worried Cupp’s going to try something? Almost guarantee this was him. Probably tryin’ to steal these cows.”
I think about that, about the way he lingered, the way his eyes darted over the house and its windows. “Yeah,” I admit. “I don’t know what he wants, but he creeps me the hell out.”
Knox finishes twisting the wire and looks at me, chin down, eyes hard. “You want me to stay tonight?”
The offer is not what I expected, and I can’t tell if it’s kindness or just another opportunity to torture me with his perfection. “I’ll be fine,” I say, because the last thing I want is to owe him anything else. “But thanks. For the help.”
He doesn’t argue. Instead, he slides the pliers back in his jeans and wipes his hands on his thighs, smearing dust into tattooed skin. “If anything else weird happens, you call me.”
I nod. He turns to leave, but then pauses, voice so low I barely catch it. “I mean it, Callie. Call me.”
I nod.
