“I’d hoped to hear a thank-you for this mornin’ too. It sucks that Les popped in.”
“He was just anxious to get back at it after being laid up for so long. Lucky thing he believed I’d shown up early, not that I’d spent the night with you.”
Bran frowned. “I don’t care—”
“Oh, so you don’t care if I take tomorrow off so I can squeeze in a couple of nail clients?”
He stared at her with a strange, almost regretful look, but said, “Sure.”
“Thanks.”
“No problem. Have a good night, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart. He only called her that when he was frustrated with her.
She said, “You have a good night too, boss,” and bailed out of the truck.
In the last three months Bran had gotten used to the rhythm of working with Harper. He preferred her sporadic humming to Les’s tendency to fill the day up with busy work and nonstop yammering.
Dammit. He missed her like his right hand. Which made him smile, knowing she’d get a chuckle out of his rare play on words.
“Got everything?” Les asked for the tenth time.
“I guess. Let’s go.”
The ride to Hank’s new place was silent, and to be honest, that unnerved Bran more than Les’s tendency to chatter like a magpie. It meant the man was thinking, and Les had no problem whatsoever sharing his thoughts.
They’d started down the driveway when Les finally spoke. “She’s trouble, you know.”
Bran didn’t have to ask who was trouble.
“How long you been f**king her?”
His head snapped toward his hired man. “What the hell business is it of yours?”
“It’s my business if you’re thinking of keeping her on to replace me. I know you, Branford. You’re wondering if you can have your cake and eat it too. Pay her to work for you, pay her to be in your bed. And as much as I need this job? I ain’t gonna suck your dick to keep it like she will.”
Bran slammed on the brakes just short of parking. “You watch your goddamn mouth. You’re talkin’ out your ass, like usual. You don’t know a thing about Harper. Not a f**kin’ thing.”
“Yeah? I think you don’t know a f**king thing about her. She’s just like her mama, though I’ll admit she a helluva lot prettier. Which means that pretty face will allow her to f**k her way to the top of the pile—the top of the money pile, and we both know around Muddy Gap, that’s probably you.”
Les didn’t know Bran’s financial situation and it pissed him off whenever Les acted as if he did. “She ain’t like that.”
“No? Weren’t you the one who told me she’d been sniffing around your grandparents’ house during the branding? Telling you what a shame it is that it’s sitting there abandoned? I’ll bet she’s got it all decorated in her mind.” Les’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll bet you let her cook supper for you, too.”
Several times. And it’d been more than Harper feeding his belly. It was as if she’d fed his soul. “So?” He hit the gas and pulled up next to an electrician’s van.
“So she’s been setting you up from the start. Working for you, cooking for you, sleeping with you.”
“Did it ever occur to you that maybe I like havin’ a woman wanting to do those things for me? Or with me? Maybe I’m tired of bein’ alone?”
“Ask yourself why she picked you. She’s a damn beauty queen. She could have any man in Wyoming or anywhere else that she wanted. We both know you ain’t exactly Brad Pitt.”
Jesus. Les could undermine his confidence in a heartbeat. How had he forgotten that?
Bran exited his truck, angry about the conversation. Over the years, Les had overstepped his bounds plenty of times, and not always when it came to ranch work. He’d chalked it up to a generation gap, since Les was old enough to be his father. Now he wondered if the bouts of hostility weren’t something else.
Footsteps sounded behind him.
Les wasn’t going to let it go. “Mark my words, boy. She’ll get herself knocked up and you’ll marry her outta a sense of duty. She’ll drop a couple more kids, ensuring she has plenty of guilt and blood money for years to come. Then she’ll take you for everything you’re worth and divorce your ass. You’ll end up alone anyway.”
With that comment, Les went too far.
Bran whirled on him and pushed him back, snarling, “Shut your f**king mouth or I will.”
Les caught himself on the grille of Bran’s truck and winced.
Shit. In his fury, Bran had forgotten the man was recovering from an injury. “Goddammit, Les, I didn’t mean—”
“See? She’s already tied you up in knots and you ain’t thinkin’ straight. I’ll bet she’s questioned why you even need me around. When I’ve been a constant in your life since your grandparents died. Me. I’ve been the only one who’s cared about you for a long damn time. You remember that.”
“What the hell is goin’ on?” Hank demanded.
“Ask him,” Les huffed and stomped away.
“Bran?”
He refocused on Hank and not on Les’s stiff gait as he disappeared around the side of the house. “Les was a serious dick to Harper when he came back to work yesterday. Talkin’ trash about her to me just now. Damn fool don’t know when to keep his mouth shut.”