Ox was singing along to the radio as he drove through the country. The storm had washed the dust from the hills and water pooled on the roads. He splashed through deep puddles and bumped over potholes the farther he got toward the ranch. The front pasture would probably be flooded, but luckily Cary and another neighbor had finished the repair on the north pasture while his mom had been in the hospital. There were probably a million things to do, but Ox had a shit-eating grin on his face that would not leave.

He was in love and she loved him back.

The evening had started out the way the entire weekend had gone. He was exhausted and wrung out. He knew Emmie had to be mad at him for disappearing, but he’d figured he could apologize and hopefully talk his way onto her couch because he just needed to see her. He’d been driving down Main Street and glancing in the glowing windows of the restaurants downtown, thinking he should take Emmie out someplace nice instead of diner food or tacos. His truck jerked to a stop in the middle of Main Street when he saw them.

Emmie and some dude. It wasn’t Ethan or Jeremy, one of her friends. It was fucking Adrian Saroyan. He could tell by the slick hair and the suit.

A car had honked behind him and Ox didn’t think. He pulled into the first parking spot he could find and marched into the restaurant where he’d seen her. He was a mess. He’d probably ruined the carpet. He didn’t give a shit. He hauled Emmie out into the pouring rain and ended up having the hottest damn sex of his entire life.

And then he’d had to leave this morning.

Smart girlfriends are the best girlfriends.

When he’d left, Emmie was on her laptop, researching the best home remedies and natural diets to control high blood pressure. She’d given him a cookbook to take to Melissa and made him promise to text when he got to the ranch.

So fucking adorable.

He pulled up to the cattle gate and saw that, yes, the front pasture was flooded. Luckily the barn sat on a hillside, and so the corral by the house was fine, as were the animal pens near the barn. He drove through, closed the gate behind him, and saw Melissa and Cary talking on the porch.

Nope. Not talking. Arguing.

Cary threw up his hands and stomped to his truck. He drove down the road, stopping and rolling down his window when he passed Ox.

“Hey,” the older man said. “Did you know your sister is the most stubborn damn woman on the planet?”

“Yeah. Do you know you’re in love with her?”

“Shut the fuck up.” Cary glared. “How’s your girl?”

“She’s okay. Pissed at me for not telling her what was going on, but I talked her around.”

Cary grunted. “I’m trying to get Melissa to let my mom come over and stay with Joan. My mom would be happy to help, but they’re both being stubborn and reminding me my mom is seventy-two. I fucking know my mom is seventy-two. She reminds me every day while she’s kicking my ass in one way or another.”

“Your mom is a badass.” Ox glanced at the house. “Just tell her to come up. They can’t say anything once she’s here, and Melissa can use the help. I’m going to have to cut back at the tattoo shop and—”

“Why?”

“What?”

Cary frowned. “You can’t cut back at the shop, man. You’re just starting out. You don’t have any employees. You need to get back to work.”

Ox waved a hand out at the flooded pasture. “Between this storm and my mom having to cut back, there’s no way Melissa—”

“Your sister can fucking ask for help when she needs it from people who are offering to help her and not from her brother who has his own damn life and his own damn business! Don’t piss me off. Besides, you’re good with cattle, but you know shit about trees.” Cary rolled up his window and drove off without another word.

Ox couldn’t stop the smile. The man was gone over his sister and had been for years. But talking Melissa around to anything was damn near impossible. She hated asking for help from anyone and only relented when it was family.

Melissa had her arms folded across her chest and was glaring at Cary’s truck as it drove away.

“Hey,” Ox said. “I see everyone is in a good mood here. How’s Mom?”

Melissa turned her glare to him, looked him up and down. “Someone got laid,” she muttered. “Is your shop still standing?”

“I am not talking about my sex life with my sister.”

“Gross.” She wrinkled her nose. “I was just asking if the business was okay, not if you and Emmie—” She put both hands over her eyes. “Brain bleach!”

Ox chuckled and wrapped his arms around his sister’s tense shoulders. “I’m fine. We’re fine. I’m happy as shit actually, which is why I’m hugging you. You look like you need a hug. What do you need help with?”

Melissa sighed and unleashed the litany of things that needed to happen that day. Ox felt tired just hearing it, but he went inside, changed his clothes, and got to work.

He returned to Metlin with a duffel bag in the passenger seat and a sore back just in time to meet one of his clients who’d booked a session two weeks before. He left his client waiting in the shop while he ran upstairs and knocked on the door to the apartment.

Tayla answered. “Hey, ghost boy.” She opened the door wider to let him in. “Emmie, Ox is here.”

“Hey.” He walked to her bedroom as she opened the door, pulled her inside, and sat on the bed, drawing Emmie between his legs. His cock immediately went to attention. It was as if it had some Emmie-bed radar. His cock would have to be patient.

“How’s your mom?” she asked.

Ox smiled. “She’s feeling better. Liked the cookbook.”

“I’m glad.” She put her hands on his shoulders. “I was thinking we could go out for dinner. Maybe—”

“I’ve got a client downstairs that I forgot about until he texted me this afternoon.”

Emmie groaned. “Really?”

He let his head fall against her and inhaled. Her scent was some combination of her detergent and her shampoo and her soap and sometimes a little perfume, and it was all just Emmie and it was so damn good.

He wrapped his arms around her waist. “I promise it’s only going to be an hour, hour and a half max. And then I’ll kick him out and we can go out. Is that cool?”

“That’s cool.”

Emmie rubbed her hand over the nape of his neck, playing with the short hairs and making his cock even harder. It was impossible not to want her, but he really didn’t want to walk downstairs to his client with a hard-on.

“Tell me more about distribution agreements and returns,” he said.

Emmie pulled back. “You hate that stuff. Your eyes glaze over when I talk about distribution.”

“I know, but I can’t go meet Clyde with a hard-on. Talk.”

Emmie laughed and shoved him away. “Stop. Why don’t you think about the expanded list of questions Tayla has ready for you?”

“I bet.” He could tell her best friend was pissed at him. That was a situation that would have to be remedied because if there was one thing you didn’t fuck up, it was being in good standing with your girl’s best friend.

Ox stood and rubbed his hand over his scalp. “Hair’s getting long.”

“Do you ever grow it?”

He shook his head. “It just annoys me. I’ll shave it tomorrow.” He bent down and kissed her quickly. “I’ll try to be fast.”

“Don’t rush poor Clyde. You’ll end up spelling his kid’s name wrong or something, and no one wants that.”

“Would I do that?” He walked out of Emmie’s bedroom and saw Tayla sitting at the kitchen counter, looking through a magazine and giving him the stink-eye. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll be back later and you can interrogate me.”

“I’m glad you’ve resigned yourself to your fate,” Tayla muttered. “Later.”

“Later.” Ox kissed Emmie again at the door, still unable to wipe the smile off his face. “See you soon.”

“You called me your girlfriend this morning.”

“Yeah.”

She looked to the side. “So you’re my boyfriend now?”

“I better fucking be. You think I’m gonna let some other asshole have the job?” He laughed when her cheeks turned red. “So damn sweet.”

“Go to work,” she said. “You’re violating the… clause in the employee manual.”

She shut the door, and Ox walked downstairs to see Clyde paging through a design book Emmie had left out on the coffee table. It wouldn’t have been notable except for the fact that Clyde was about sixty, had naked pinups on both biceps, and Ox was pretty sure he lived in a battered old trailer on the edge of town. Ox did not expect Clyde to be looking at Tiny House Living.

Clyde looked up. “Thinking about redoing the kitchen.”

“Cool.” He glanced at Clyde’s hairy shoulder. “We still starting the cover-up on the ex-wife?”

“Yep.”

“Let’s get you shaved.”