“Please,” she said with a grin, “relax. You’re scaring the cats.” When Maxi inherited the farm, it came with dozens of feral cats, most of them not so wild anymore. Sahara hadn’t been in the chair long before three of them had decided she’d make a comfortable place to snooze.
Of course, each of the other women also petted the felines. Maxi and Miles had gotten the animals spayed or neutered, vaccinated, and they were fed twice a day.
“You shouldn’t be up,” Fallon warned.
Sahara laughed. “Of course I should. I’m not great with idle time.”
“But you’re hurt,” Catalina said.
“Not really. Just a bump.” She stood and looked at each of them. A gentle breeze stirred the colorful leaves in the trees, prompting several to twirl gracefully to the ground. She loved fall.
She didn’t love being treating like an invalid.
“I appreciate the concern, I really do. I hesitated to say that you’re overdoing the mollycoddling because I didn’t want to sound unappreciative or something. Then I realized that just because you’re women doesn’t mean you’re fainthearted. It doesn’t mean your feelings are fragile, right? After all, you’re strong women.” She thrust up a fist in a sign of unity. “And as strong women, you know that being female doesn’t make us more delicate than men.”
“Actually,” Fallon said, “I’m definitely more delicate than Justice.”
Catalina snorted. “An elephant is more delicate than him.”
Maxi laughed when Fallon swatted at Cat.
“But you’re still just as strong,” Sahara insisted.
“As Justice?” Fallon quirked a brow. “Not likely.”
“She means emotionally,” Maxi said. “And in theory, I agree. But when I was having all my trouble here at the farm, it was awfully nice to lean on Miles.”
“And I’m sure he’s leaned on you, too.”
She shrugged. “Maybe. Most times he’s so confident that he focuses more on protecting than any ‘leaning.’”
Hmm. Sahara gave that some thought and realized that Brand was the same. He wanted her to lean on him, to let him protect her and care for her, but despite all the turmoil with Becky, he didn’t reciprocate. He needed to talk to her about his feelings so she could show that she understood. Maybe once he did that, he’d understand her equal need to help, and then she could tell him the different ways she was trying to make Becky less of a burden.
Seeing that the women weren’t understanding, Sahara sighed, then propped her hands on her hips. “My point is that I’m fine, and I want to think you’re all grounded enough that you won’t be offended when I say enough is enough.”
They each watched her with varying degrees of concern.
It was so ridiculous, she almost laughed. “I’m going to give Brand hell, because if we’d stopped to get food and drinks, we might have missed those morons who tried to run us off the road.” She’d already explained every detail of the attack to the women. They’d been duly horrified.
“Food and drinks for what?” Maxi asked.
“Here.” When Maxi gave her a blank look, Sahara explained, “I didn’t want to come empty-handed. I know that’s rude, but Brand wouldn’t stop.”
“Oh please, you’re invited guests! Besides, good friends are welcome anytime, no gifts needed.”
Good friends. Struck by that possibility, Sahara asked, “You mean Brand?”
She shrugged. “Sure. And you.”
Catalina chimed in. “I know you’re the boss and everything, but you’re still one of us.”
“A significant other, she means,” Fallon said.
Was she a significant other? “Brand said we’re in a relationship.”
“Duh,” Catalina said. “Was that in question?”
“Justice said he’s never seen Brand act like he does with you.”
Maxi nodded. “Miles says that usually he’s pretty distant with women. I mean, not physically distant, but it’s different with you. You two seem close.”
“Connected,” Fallon added.
Only a minute before, Sahara had been determined to join the men in building the gazebo. She’d wanted to hammer something, damn it. She’d wanted to prove she was strong and capable, not a woman who wilted over a bump.
Now, though, she decided she’d rather stay right where she was, chatting with the women. The conversation proved insightful. She’d love to hear more about how Brand was different with her from how he was with other women.
Mind made up, she reseated herself in the lounge chair, and even put her feet back on the cushion.
The cats took that as an invitation and curled up against her again, one on her lap, one against her hip, one by her knees.
It turned into a very enjoyable afternoon, different for sure, given the lazy way she sat around talking, but still very fun. She couldn’t imagine a prettier setting. Even being overrun with cats, multiple birds flitted in and out of the trees. The day remained mild, sunny, with just enough of a breeze to tease over her skin.
Watching Brand work was never a hardship. She loved seeing the muscles in his back flex, how his biceps bulged, how those delicious abs tightened. Unlike the other guys, who sometimes got scruffy but eventually shaved, Brand sported the short, trimmed beard and mustache. Sahara found she liked the rugged look.
She especially liked the way his stubble tickled her skin when he kissed her in various sensitive places.
She had to admit, she had some serious hunks working for her. Each one of them was gorgeous in their own way, but in her opinion, Brand was by far the handsomest.
Around noon, the men came up to the house for food. While they washed up, Catalina grilled hamburgers and hotdogs, and Fallon and Maxi carried out trays of side dishes and drinks. Sahara was about to help with that when a message dinged on her phone.
Brand stood nearby guzzling water—shirtless. But then, all the guys were shirtless now. Most were barefoot, too, since part of the work on the gazebo required standing in the pond.
Brand looked her way as she got out her phone.
Given the stark expression on his face, she wasn’t the only one concerned that it could be another anonymous text.
She unlocked her phone...and saw a photo from Becky. Brand’s mother sat on her new love seat, and she looked so happy that Sahara was filled with pride.
“What the hell?”
She jumped when Brand took the phone from her limp hand. He had approached so silently, she hadn’t been aware of him looking over her shoulder, and now dread filled her.
Trying not to appear as guilty as she felt, she said, “It’s Becky. Look at her smile. I think her attitude is improving.”
For far too long, Brand studied the photo in foreboding silence. Finally, his expression cold, he said, “I take it this was your doing?”
She barely resisted the urge to wince. “Which part?”
“All of it.” His jaw clenched as he stared down at her. “The hairdo, makeup...the couch.”
Oh, this wasn’t going well at all. She swallowed down her unease and tried for a bright tone. “Well, I did lend her a stylist so she could refresh her appearance after her long illness. It always makes a woman feel better to look her best.”
No reply.
Normally she could outwait the best of them, but this was Brand, and the guilt was coming on strong and fast. She glanced around and saw that everyone had clustered near the long picnic table piled with food—including the horde of cats.
Keeping her voice low, she said, “I wanted to help.”
There was no understanding in his tone when he said, “I asked you not to get involved.”
No, he’d flat-out told her not to, thus the guilt. “You said I couldn’t take her shopping, so I didn’t.”
“Don’t play with my words.”
Worse and worse. “All right.”
“She’s not in the hospital bed.” He glanced at the phone, then gestured with it. “She’s on some froufrou love seat thing.”
Sahara would have been offended by that description, but it was rather froufrou with the floral pattern and overstuffed cushions. “I, um...” Why was it so hard to say? Sahara stiffened her spine. “I bought it for her. I figured if I could get her out of the bed—”
“It wasn’t your job to get her out of bed.”
He didn’t raise his voice, but she felt bludgeoned by his quiet anger all the same.
“Not my job, no, but I—”