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“I’m working in a horse so my appetite is bigger than ever.”
The waitress who slid my plate in front of me places a huge plate of food in front of Emmett. Eggs, bacon, ham, biscuits, and gravy. Then she brings over a huge waffle. My stomach rumbles with nausea at the thought of him consuming that. Not because it doesn’t look delicious, but because I can only imagine how sick I’d feel if I ate it all.
Darla’s phone rings. “Excuse me a sec.” She gets up from the table and walks away.
“And once again, it’s just the two of us.” He smiles.
I cross my legs and kick him under the table. “Peachy.”
I take my fork to down the eggs. Maybe if I finish them, then I can start my job.
Darla comes back in. “I’m so sorry, we have an emergency at The Harvest Depot. Emmett, be a good boy and show Briar to the studio. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
This has to be a joke.
“She didn’t say you were going to death row. The majority of women would love to spend time with me,” Emmett says.
I don’t say anything.
“They never want to leave my bed.”
“After you make them breakfast in the morning, of course.” I pour myself an orange juice from the carafe on the table.
“Cute that you think I’d serve them breakfast. They’re gone before dawn, darlin’.”
“Spare me the details.” I sip my orange juice.
“Hurry up, and maybe we can do some happy baby stretches together.”
I groan and bury my head in my plate, hoping his big plate of food will keep him from talking anymore. “Doing research on yoga positions?”
“I plan on taking a class.” He winks before burying his face in his food, devouring the biscuits and gravy.
This cannot be my new normal. I have to figure out a way out of this.
Chapter Eight
Emmett
I’m in the horse barn, shoeing all the damn horses because supposedly I’m the best at it. The horses are calmer when I do it. That’s what Jude and my dad say. It’s bullshit. I bitch about it, but I don’t mind. I kind of like when it’s just the horses and me. I play my country music, focus on my task, and it clears my head. Gives me a sense of accomplishment when I’m done taking the old shoes off, getting the hooves filed down, fitting them for their new shoes, and nailing them in. Sometimes it’s nice to be alone with my thoughts.
I hear rustling behind me and groan. Someone is gonna bother me, and it better not be fucking Jude. He’s been up my ass all week. Funny how he never wanted to show me shit until he got with his childhood best friend, and now they’re expecting a baby. Now he wants to dump everything on me, right when I come up with a plan I know would kill it here.
I keep working to fit the horseshoes for my dad’s horse, Legend. I always save Brutus for last because he’s mine.
“There you are.” Ben walks in. He’s dressed in track pants and a sweatshirt. He coaches the high school football team, but they’re not playing right now, so he decided to take on the track team as well. None of us Noughton boys are ones to sit around and do nothing.
“Where else would I be?” I go to the forge and put the horseshoe in to heat up the metal so I can mold it as perfectly as I can.
“I was looking for you.” He pets Magnum, running his hand down his mane.
“Well, you found me.” I keep working.
“I heard you showed Briar the studio yesterday. That you showed up at breakfast.” He grabs a brush and brushes Magnum.
Ben doesn’t work on the farm. Magnum is the only part of him down here. Even when he was younger, Ben never had to work the ranch much because he was so focused on football. Sure, during harvest and planting season, he helped. We needed as many hands as we could get. But since our family farm got bigger and started making a bigger profit while he was away playing professional football, he doesn’t know much about what goes on around here.
“What’s your point?” I peek up at him before banging the horseshoe into the right shape.
