Change of Hart (Wells Ranch, #3)(70)

Staring intently while I pretend to check the oil in a ranch pickup, I don’t notice a group of guys come up behind me until a hand slaps me square between the shoulder blades. Colt grins, sidling up next to me. With a rough throat clearing, I adjust my hat and give him a curt hello.

“Staring at the hot nurse?” One of the ranch hands, Rob, chuckles, and a few join in.

“Nurse practitioner. And shut the fuck up.” I glare over my shoulder at him.

He snorts. “Fucking hell. Nobody drink the water ’round here, there’s gotta be something in it. First Red, now Denny.”

Colt glances in my direction out of the corner of his eye, giving me a look that says he’s considering punching Rob on my behalf.

“Sounds like you could use some, Rob.” I jab my finger into his side. “When’s the last time anybody touched your ugly ass?”

Colt howls, punching Rob in the upper arm. “No magical water is going to get this guy laid, that’s for sure.”

I shake my head and drop to the ground, sliding back under the truck. At some point, the sound of a dozen or so cowboy boots crunch across the rocky driveway, slowly fading into nothing. Dolly Parton’s playing softly somewhere in the distance—likely back at the house—and I hum along while I daydream about Blair, preparing to drain the oil pan at a painstakingly slow pace.

Something taps my boot, and I shake it away. Probably Colt’s dog dropping a stick on my foot to play fetch. Then an unmistakable kick to the heel.

“Jesus, all right, all right.” I finish up and shimmy along the piece of cardboard laid on the ground. Ducking under the bumper, I nearly smoke my skull on the metal when I realize it’s Blair crouched at the front of the pickup.

“Hey,” I croak, reaching for a rag to wipe my filthy hands. “What’s up?”

“You can’t be over here with a fucking backwards hat on, doing all this manly shit, and expect me not to notice.”

I raise an eyebrow and smirk at her. “Really? This is what does it for ya, eh?”

Her soft, clean hands brush against the stubble on my cheeks and she kisses me. Slow, deep, and like she’s not worried at all about somebody coming across us. Which, given how many people live and work on this ranch, is pretty damn likely.

“I needed to do that before I go,” she says against my lips. “It’s been a long couple weeks.”

“You know I’ll sneak in your bedroom window anytime.” I kiss her again, my arms aching from the restraint it’s taking to not touch her.

“We’re in our thirties. That’s fucked up.”

“What’s fucked up is that we’re alone for the first time in weeks, and you’re fully dressed still.”

Despite her expensive-looking trousers and shoes that don’t belong on a ranch, she sits down on the grass and squints in the sun. “Well, get back to work, and maybe watching you pull wrenches will be sexy enough I won’t be able to stay dressed for long.”

“You’re a weirdo.”

“So I’ve been told. Anyway, how is this different from you watching me in my office? Go back to work now.” Her hand flaps to shoo me away. “Turn the wrench, or change the thing, or whatever it is you’re doing.”

“Yes, boss.” I duck under the bumper, skidding across the cardboard laid over rocky ground. “Let me just turn the wrench and change the thing.”

“Good boy,” she coos.

“If I get a hard-on while changing the oil, I’ll never be able to live it down.”

Her laugh reverberates through the chassis overhead, and I steal glances from under the truck as a steady stream of engine oil flows out into a bucket. Fuck, she’s gorgeous. Leaned back on her hands in the grass, more freckles than stars in the galaxy, and the tiny natural uptick on the right side of her mouth.

It’s always been her for me. I just need to prove I’m still the one for her.

When I climb out from under the truck, I wipe my clean-ish forearm against my sweat-soaked forehead. And Blair, my perfect weirdo, eye-fucks the shit out of me.

“As fun as it’s been to watch you with that backwards hat, covered in dirt and grease, duty calls. I have to head to the clinic to meet with a patient, then go pick up Jonas because Whit’s convinced he’s going to cause trouble if he sits around alone all summer. Plus, I need to work out….” Her nose crinkles, and if she didn’t look quite so concentrated, I’d offer up that riding me could count as exercise. “Oh, and make dinner because Dad’s working late. Then I promised Mom I’d do puzzles with her tonight. If I skip it, this will be the one time she remembers that I told her I’d do something.”

“And then, and then, and then…” I roll my eyes playfully. “And then, when you’re ready for bed, you’re going to text me so I know it’s a safe time to sneak in your window.”

She salutes. “Yes, sir. I’ll add it to the to-do list for the day—fingers crossed I remember it all.”

“You’re the only thing on my to-do list, so I’ll send you a reminder. Or thirty. Probably in the form of nudes.”

“Nudes and cat memes, if our text history is any indication.”

Her phone beeps from within her purse, and she grimaces when she looks at the screen, her pretty shoe tapping on the gravel driveway. “Fuck. I knew I was forgetting something. Shit.”