Page 3 of Secret Heart
Acar’s engine cuts through the din of the Highlands crowding into the barn, hiding from the rain that they’re more than capable of handling given they were developed in the Scottish Highlands that are cold and gray for most of the damn year. Molly—a cow carrying her second calf with a serious attitude problem—rushes the fencing as I pass with another bale of hay. It’s the third time she’s done it since I pulled the hay from the upper storage an hour. It’s the only reason I don’t flinch and cuss her out again.
“Back off, Mol,” I say, exasperated with her completely at this point.
My arms are burning, my entire body aching with the physical labor today’s required. The last thing I want to deal with at the moment is the cranky ass cow. After a couple weeks of lighter workload, it’s hitting extra hard. My flannel and heavy jacket have already been abandoned, hung on the farthest corner post of the metal fencing that splits the barn in half, allowing for a large walkway and storage along the far wall of the barn.
Ten more bales to move and then I can drive to the larger barns where the main herds overwinter and help the other ranch hands. With any luck, we’ll be done before the worst of this snowstorm hits in another four or five hours. The wind kicks up as I think that, blowing a wall of mist right into the barn from the open doors on either side of the building. It’s been raining on and off all damn day. It’s not something I’d typically disparage, except it means there’s going to be a ton of ice on the roads once the snow starts coming down.
Light footsteps echo through the large building, boots scuffing on the concrete floor. I glance over my shoulder as I settle the bale on the top of the third stack. Emily leans against the fencing, reaching through the bars to pet one of the recently weaned steers from this year’s calving season. Her hair is pulled back into a messy bun, her curves drowned by an oversized black sweater and dark wash jeans. My blood heats at the sight of her, knowing exactly what she looks like under all that clothing.
It wouldn’t be the first time she intentionally followed me out here while I was moving hay and convinced me to press her up against the wall and cover her mouth to keep her from being found out. Sneaking around has been our modus operandi for over six months now, since early April after a set of drunken confessions against that bar’s wall after closing. It’s been over a month since the three of us had a wild night of fun before Triston left to start a circuit of exhibition rodeos at the encouragement of his agent, and I’d be lying if I said my body didn’t ache for hers above me and around my dick.
I quickly adjust myself while she’s distracted by the calf and then pull off the ball cap I’ve been wearing to keep the sweat out of my eyes. I shake out my hair, needing the extra half-minute to pull myself together. We’d agreed that was the last time, and I don’t really want to be stacking bales with Ethan in another hour while hard for his sister.
Not that I haven’t done it before.
Or had her scent all over me, covered by a messy application of cologne in my truck between the barns. Triston’s, too, though his has always been easier to explain away. He’s not all that strict about wearing scent blockers when he knows it’ll just be me and the other two Beta ranch hands working on that day’s projects.
I shove all the thoughts away.
“Hey,” I say once I’ve replaced the cap, situating it backwards.
I take my time closing the distance between us, glaring at Molly as she rushes the fencingagain.
“I will tell Ethan to add you to the cull list next year regardless of how good your first calf turned out to be,” I mutter darkly, pointing at the obnoxious cow. “Do. Not. Test. Me.”
Emily snort-laughs. “How many dumb influencers do you think get Highlands because they see the cute calves and the docile steers and then get their shit rocked with a nasty nursing cow?”
“To be fair, Molly is notably worse than the rest of the herd.” I grunt, then take back that bit of grace as she rams the fencing. “Good grief, she’s not even nursing anymore. We weaned everyone at the beginning of September. It’s been a month at this point.”
Emily turns away from the docile steer and crosses her arms, taking in the bales I still need to get moved over. The movement makes her tits press against the dark wool.
There I go getting hard again. Fuck.
I clear my throat to distract myself. Thank God I’m a Beta and don’t scent every time I have half a sex-fueled thought. I don’t know how Hudson and Caleb survive. Ethan, too, though mint at least blends a bit better than cinnamon and green tea.
Emily’s gaze flies back to me, and the column of her throat moves with a heavy swallow. Without a word, I raise a single eyebrow. Her cheeks flush.
“You’re here alone?”
I nod and shove my hands into the pockets of my jeans. “Everyone else is at the main duo.”
The main duo are the pair of barns that house the larger Hereford herds, the primary cattle we raise. They’re another ten minutes along the service road, deeper into the ranch’s land.
“Good,” she says.
My heart kicks into a higher gear, heat flashing across my skin and pooling between my hips. Now I’mdefinitelyhard. If she’s asking, I’m not going to say no. Seeing her throat move around my length while she’s holding onto my thighs is one of my favorite views. And in that sweater? It’ll be perfection. But I stay put, waiting for her to say the words. It’s always been her in the driver’s seat of this whole friends-with-benefits set up.
Her eyes flick to the barn door and then back to me. Her face is paler than before, her shoulders rounded in anxiety. There’s a clear conflict going on in that beautiful mind of hers. I take a step closer. Maybe I’ll just be the one to initiate this time, clear the air since Triston’s gone.
“I’m pregnant.”
The entire world stops. Just… just freezes. It takes an entire minute for my brain to recalibrate from the lewd fantasy to those two words.
“Pregnant?” I ask like a complete dumbass.
As if she’d play some horrid prank and lie about something like that.
She only nods once, her hands twisting into her sweater, her knuckles white.
