“Shelby told me you’d be in the north pasture.” He frowned at the tarp. “What happened?” Before she could stop him, he strode with that cat-like grace she admired to the tarp, knelt and flipped back the plastic. His lips twisted into a grimace, and he quickly put the tarp back. Caid had a sensitive stomach? She wouldn’t think so, not with the things she knew they’d parachuted into out on the battle field. “That’s nasty. You’ve had a few of these, haven’t you?”
Shit. She’d kick her brother in his bad knee if she found out he’d squealed on her. “I have.” She kept quiet about the threat. If he hadn’t seen it, all the better. Last thing she needed was an over-protective man loaded with testosterone shadowing her every moment. Never mind that his nearness made her nipples tighten, and she longed to kiss him again to see if he was as talented as she remembered. “I was just about to go back to the house and get the tractor. Then call the rendering truck.”
“You’re not going to involve the authorities?” Caid scowled, and any thought Jenny had of getting out of this easily fell. Damn, he looked exactly like her brother with his “I know what’s best for you” frown. “We have trespassing. Vandalism. Loss of use. They all might be misdemeanor charges, but that threat isn’t.” He pulled back the tarp, and though she knew what lay beneath it, Jenny gasped just the same. “That isn’t a nice hello, Jenny. And I won’t let anything happen to you.” He flipped the tarp back over the heifer, then strode toward her, pausing inches from her.
His nearness overwhelmed her. From the sharp jut of his cheekbones, to his short almost sun-kissed brown hair and those lips, those kissable lips that she knew how they tasted and how they felt against her skin…she held her breath. If she breathed deeply, her breasts might brush against his chest, her thighs against his. She steeled her resolve. “I’m not your client, Caid. I’m not someone you can boss around.”
A slow, way too sexy grin, spread across his face. “Oh, but Jenny darlin’, as of this morning that’s exactly what I am. Logan contacted the Brotherhood Protectors to hire me to take care of this.” He waved his hand to indicate the downed cow. “You’re my client, and I am not to leave your side until this is taken care of.”
She cursed, low and pithy, and vowed punch her brother—or something—when she saw him again. “I don’t need your help, Caid. And if this is about what happened when you were here on leave, I’m not interested in that either.”
His low, husky chuckle caressed her nerve endings.
“If that’s the way you want to play it, sweetheart. Some things are best left to simmer. But be careful. Don’t let them boil over.” He caressed her cheek, his thumb tugging gently at her lower lip.