plenty warm tonight.”
She blinked up at me. “Oh? How do you plan to do that?”
I flipped the blanket over my head and worked my way down her body. “Let me show you.”
Chapter 8
Bristol
I drove down Dawson’s drive. We’d made plans to have breakfast before we worked my cattle today. Other than the first night I’d been back in the RV, Dawson hadn’t slept over. But we’d still had sex. Every night.
Yesterday morning, he’d caught me as I was coming out of the trailer and we’d had sex in his pickup. I’d been half terrified Tucker would drive up on us, but Dawson had assured me Tucker and Kiernan were on the opposite side of his land.
It wasn’t bad being back home. As long as I wedged a window open in the trailer most of the day, it was tolerable. I wouldn’t say pleasant. The carpet would have to be ripped out and the furniture hauled to the dump, but between the air freshener and real fresh air, my stomach didn’t twist at the thought of using the bathroom.
I parked where I usually did in front of the house, but Dawson was perched on an overturned five-gallon pail next to the barn door. He had a fluffy kitten tucked into his chest.
My grin spread wide as I got out and crossed the drive toward him. My boots crunched in the dirt and he looked up. Two more fluffy bundles bounded at his feet.
“Do all the Kings cuddle kittens, or just you?”
“My brothers will say they don’t.” Dawson scratched the tiny kitten’s head. “I try to limit how many are running around so they stay healthy, but Magnolia got pregnant before I could get her in to the vet.”
I squatted and picked up a long-hair tabby kitten. The little thing practically jumped into my hands and was madly purring before I got her tucked into my arm. “I don’t think you have to worry about them being feral.”
“Nope. I make sure of it. Between me and Kiernan’s daughter, we tame them. Magnolia’s a wicked hunter, so I’m hoping to move this litter to the old chicken coop by the far shop.”
I didn’t have an official farm cat. A couple of strays had called dibs on my shop and one of the toms had a spraying problem. If I were friendlier with the rescue organization in town, I’d ask for their help to catch and fix them. But I wasn’t, so saving up for a couple of neuterings was on my list. Until then, they’d probably knock up the females that Dawson didn’t get to in time.
But we had plenty of land and a ton of rodents. The gophers had been downright obnoxious until one of Dawson’s female cats had swung by to hunt the yard.
I put my knees on the cool grass and scratched the little one’s ears. Daisy would have been jealous but she’d stayed behind. Dawson and I were heading right back after we ate. Tucker and Kiernan were meeting us.
I’d woken up excited about today. I’d get to work cattle with experts. Guys I could glean tidbits of information from. Ranchers. Actual ranchers. Not someone off the street who’d done nothing more with a cow than buy a steak at the supermarket.
A day like today would usually have made me cranky, but the three of them were really good to me. And thinking about today helped distract me from tomorrow and the weekend. Dawson was working his own cattle tomorrow, and I was helping. I had to, after all they’d done for me. It wasn’t like they needed me, but I could also accumulate more helpful tips. That wasn’t the problem.
The problem was his dad was coming tonight, along with Beck and Eva. Aiden and Kate were coming after they were done with work tomorrow. Even Xander and Savvy were flying back from whatever country they were in. Dawson had said they’d only just started building their new house near Billings, so they would be staying at Dawson’s too.
Working cattle was a thing for the family. A weekend of hard work, family gathering, and downright fun.
I wanted to have fun working cattle, doing hardcore cowgirl work, like rounding them up with Bucket. But it was harder when all I had was Bucket. I didn’t have many head, and they were used to me, but funneling them to a smaller pasture, into a smaller corral, and then into pens was a shit ton easier when I had others who knew