“The tractor?”
“Yeah.” She flipped her long hair all sassy and cute and sashayed over to the tractor. Greer watched her go. She must’ve been a dancer at some point because she moved in ways that shouldn’t be legal. He was enthralled by her. She trailed her fingers along the tractor’s body and Greer found himself jealous of an inanimate object. “Everybody else has their B name. This guy deserves one too.”
He rubbed at his jaw. Did he explain the tractor wasn’t alive? She grinned and of course he smiled back. What was a guy to do?
She walked slowly around the tractor and he simply stared at her. “Babe … Bubbly … Butterscotch … Booboo … Blondie … Badger … Beautiful … Bambie?”
With each name, she shot him a look and he shook his head no, fighting laughter, but with Bambie he couldn’t hold it in any longer. He busted up, and she laughed with him.
They sobered after a few incredible seconds and she kept going. “Belle … Butterfly … Bug … Bean … Bubbles … Ballerina?”
His cheeks hurt from smiling so big. He’d let Belinda name his horses and dog, but even his fond memories of her before she’d walked out of his life didn’t hold a candle to this moment.
“You have to say yes or no,” Emery teased him.
“No.”
“No Ballerina? Hmm.” She patted the tractor. “I’m running out of ideas, girl.”
“Girl?” His tractor was tough and impressive and a John Deere for crying out loud. His sister and cousins were tough, but still female. Yet he didn’t think a tractor could be feminine.
At Emery’s raised eyebrow and pointed look with that conspiratorial gleam in her dark eyes, he decided his tractor could be anything she wanted it to be. After all, his cousin Alivia was a beautiful lady but also tougher than most men.
“I thought you’d agree. She’s a beau-ti-ful … piece of equipment.” Emery smirked at him and turned back to the tractor.
Greer could only think what a beautiful lady Emery was. If he’d been inclined to speak and wasn’t such a conflicted mess over this woman, he might have told her so.
“Okay, sweetie.” Emery walked around to the front of the tractor and faced it head on. “We’ve got to find a name for you. Bestie?”
Greer shrugged. It wasn’t her worst name.
“No … Boss.” Emery nodded her head as if it was decided. She looked to Greer, and he found himself nodding. He liked it.
“You have to say yes or no,” she teased him.
“Yes.” He stared deeply into her eyes and the moment seemed to slow down.
Greer had no choice. He had to show her that he was a man who was gone over a woman. He would stride up to her, wrap her up tight, and kiss her until it was time for nightly chores, and it was only ten in the morning. He loved the idea.
His phone beeped in his pocket. Greer startled. He wasn’t a texter any more than he was a talker.
“Excuse me,” he murmured. He caught a glimpse of frustration on Emery’s face as he turned away and glanced at the phone. Papa.
Are you away from the house? I saw you walk in the barn but never leave.
Crap. He was supposed to get Emery away from the house far enough that Papa and Thor could sneak in and install those cameras. He wanted to tell them not to do it. He trusted her.
But that was stupid of him. There was no good-for-him reason that Travis Reeder’s sister had lied her way into staying at his house and was being so irresistible that he wanted to fall for her. He’d stupidly trusted Belinda with his heart years ago and she’d left him because of her career. When she broke up with him, she’d admitted he was “emotionally closed off and unable to share his feelings or hold up his end of the conversation.” What made him think Emery could ever care about a nonverbal cowboy like him, even if they didn’t have the impossible obstacle of him having killed her brother? Dumb.
Give me ten, he texted back.
Ok.
He pocketed his phone and looked back at Emery. Brave had used the energy to stand up and walk to her side and she was scratching his head. She met Greer’s gaze and his chest filled with warmth. How would he resist her? She had to be putting on an act, but his heart didn’t want to believe it. He should text Papa back and tell him he couldn’t do it. He could not be around this woman and stay detached and immune and figure out who had sent her here and protect the Delta secret. He was in extreme danger—the emotional kind.
“Horse ride?” he asked when he wanted to tell her the truth, get the truth out of her, and then kiss her for hours.
“Yay!” She clapped her hands together. “I thought I’d grow old and gray anticipating that delicious question.”