Home > Nowhere to Hide (Nowhere to Ride #2)(5)

Nowhere to Hide (Nowhere to Ride #2)(5)
Author: Andrew Grey

“No problem. Just continue to use down what you have, and we’ll take what you don’t need.” Brodie lifted Emily into her high chair and scooted her to the table, the dogs gathering around.

Sinclair followed Dawson toward the door. “I’m going to check on Lilly. Thank you for the coffee—I needed it.” He went out behind Dawson, enjoying the view as he did. Damn, the man was hot from every angle.

Lilly had just exited the barn and headed toward them. “Are you ready to look some more?”

Sinclair turned to Dawson, who just stared back. “If you want to have the wedding at Rita’s, Dawson said that he and his men would clear out the equipment shed and spread the muck to get it away.” Sinclair flashed him a smile because the huge guy deserved it, but damned if he didn’t simply stride over toward his big-ass truck.

“Dawson,” Lilly called, and hurried over to him before he could get in.

Sinclair watched as Dawson grew totally uncomfortable as she hugged him before stepping back. Then he climbed into his truck as though he couldn’t get away fast enough. Sinclair stood still, watching Dawson speed away, trying to figure out what he’d just seen and coming up empty. Something told him that Dawson was more than just a closeted gay man. He had depths that seemed to elude everyone, and the busybody in him was curious.

Lilly threw her arms around him, pulling Sinclair out of his thoughts. “What did you do to get him to agree? I know Rita said it was okay, but it will be easier if Dawson agrees.”

“I asked him,” Sinclair said.

“That was all?” Her eyes grew wide. “Dang. I was hoping for something more dramatic.”

He shook his head and sighed. “Like what?”

“I don’t know. Like maybe you had decided to trade your virtue in order to get me what I really wanted.” She grinned, and Sinclair groaned loudly.

“You need to stop reading all those bodice-rippers you have hidden under your bed.” He snickered. “They’re warping your sense of proportion.” Though, if the truth were known and Dawson had asked, Sinclair would probably have jumped at the chance.

 

 

Chapter Three

 

 

“You really want us to move the muck pile?” Brad asked a month later as he sat in the tractor with the bucket loader on the front. “It’s been there for years.”

Dawson fixed him with a stare.

“Okay, just checking that I heard you right.” Brad started the engine and got to work.

Dawson thought all this was ridiculous. This was a working ranch, not a wedding venue, but the men had actually built a new building for the four-wheelers so they could be out of the weather when they weren’t in use, and he had found space for the tractors and other equipment, so it had worked out. The only issue had been the pit—not that he could do anything about that.

The plan was to use the new building as a workshop once the wedding was over and the equipment had been put back. Tools always ended up spread out over the ranch, and Dawson hated it, so now they would have a building dedicated to both wood- and metalworking. The one good thing about the past weeks was that not only had they actually improved the ranch, but Sinclair hadn’t made an appearance.

Dawson looked up the drive and swore as his luck ran out and that damned white Lexus turned down the drive, followed by four dump trucks.

“What the hell is going on?” Dawson yelled as soon as Sinclair pulled his car off the drive and onto the grass.

“A local contractor friend of Lilly’s ordered too many loads of crushed stone and they were sitting outside the building site with nowhere to go, so I thought we could add them to the drive here and make a path from there up to the barn. I called Rita, and she said to bring them on by.” He smiled, and Dawson wanted to wring his pretty neck.

“And who is supposed to spread all this?” he asked, seeing red. His men, who weren’t supposed to be involved in wedding preparations, had already spent time cleaning out the shed and were moving the muck pile. Now they were supposed to spread the stone? “You should have called me. I’m the one who has to see that all the work is done here,” he gritted out.

Emmett, one of cowboys called out, but when Dawson turned, he waved and went the other way. All his men knew when to stay the hell out of his way.

“You have tractors and stuff. How hard can it be?” Sinclair asked. “Besides, the stone is here now, so tell them where to put it.” He sounded so damned reasonable.

“I’ll gladly tell them where they can shove all of it,” Dawson growled. This was turning into an even greater pain in the ass than he ever imagined.

The drivers had all parked their trucks and gotten out, looking at Dawson like he was supposed to have the answers.

He suppressed a sigh because he wasn’t going to give Sinclair the satisfaction. “Okay. Let’s start up at the shed over there and dump the first load. Brad has the bucket truck, and he can spread it.”

“You want us to dump in one place or distribute it?” one of the drivers asked, and Dawson wished he’d have thought of that.

“Go ahead and dump gradually. That way we can finish spreading, but it won’t be such a big job.” He needed to clear his head and get this damned job done. Then he needed to handle things with Sinclair.

Dawson gave the drivers detailed instructions for the rest of the stone. “Is that okay with you?” he sniped at Sinclair, and then let the men get to work.

“There’s no need to be such a jerk,” Sinclair told him once the drivers got started. “It’s crushed stone, and it will help make the drive here better. Plus we can use it to make a walk up to the venue.”

“I’m not a jerk. It’s my job to make sure things run right here, and now we have a whole new task to get done today. The men have work that has to be done, and now there’s more because you couldn’t call ahead.” Fuck, the truth was Dawson didn’t even know why he was so angry. The crushed stone was free, and it had been on his list to get some delivered for the drive anyway. Maybe it was just that Sinclair set his teeth on edge.

Sinclair put his hands on his hips, one leg in front of the other. “I’d say your pants were about to catch fire after that lie. Maybe you’re progressing past jerk and on to asshole.” His blue eyes shone, and the way the sun caught them was enticing as hell.

Dawson turned away to watch what the men were doing as the first truck finished dumping and Brad came around with the loader, spread the stone with the back of the bucket easy as pie, then made way for the next truck.

“See, it isn’t going to take that long, and you’ll have a better ranch because of it.”

Dawson whipped around. “Fine. It was a good idea.” He schooled his expression and decided he could be the bigger man.

“That admission must have tasted like shit,” Sinclair said with a grin.

Dawson closed the distance between them. “Stop being such a pain in the ass. Okay? The stone turned out to be good. What do you want from me? A bow? Maybe a great, big, slobbery kiss? What?” Dawson wished he would learn to keep his mouth shut and just let things go.

Sinclair cocked his eyebrows, his lips curling upward just slightly. “The answer to that question would probably blow your mind. But if you really want an answer, I’d take the big kiss, preferably behind a locked door where I could show you just what a real kiss could do to a man like you.” With that, he headed to his car. “Oh, and you’re welcome.” He waved and then rolled up the window as he headed out the drive.

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