Arrogant Bastard

by Jennifer Dawson

  I’m done. It’s time to get my shit together.

  I played a good game because I knew all Cat McKay’s cards before I even walked in the room. But despite what I said, how I acted, I need her as much as she needs me.

  I miss the feel of digging my hands into dirt.

  That fine sheen of dust, grit, and sweat over my body at the end of a long day.

  The ache of well-used muscles.

  And the heavy pull of boneless exhaustion behind my eyes.

  I need to get back to work, and this place feels like somewhere I can plant some roots. That is, if I don’t fuck it up per usual.

  Cat’s shoulder blades flex under the cotton of her tank.

  Just my unfortunate luck that we spark.

  It’s nothing I can’t ignore, but I’d prefer it wasn’t there.

  I might have won my first battle with the woman who’s now my boss, but I hold no illusions I’ll win them all. I threw her off balance, had her at a distinct disadvantage, but once she regains her footing, she’ll be a force to be reckoned with.

  It’s best to stay on guard, and that starts with keeping my dick in my pants and my mind off what Cat’s lips might look like wrapped around it.

  We walk out into the bright, beating sun. The humidity hits me like a wet blanket, and it smells like home.

  After all these years, I’m back in central Louisiana. I didn’t grow up in Toulon like most people around here, but I wasn’t far away. Not sure how I feel about coming full circle, but it’s where the path led me, and here I am.

  We walk down a dirt road, and a hand on the edge of the cane fields waves to her.

  She waves back.

  My eyes narrow on the green of the leaf—not quite as bright as it should be. I don’t need to touch it to know it’s not supple the way it’s supposed to be, and that underneath the surface there’s a brittleness I won’t like feeling there.

  To Cat’s back I say, “Your irrigation system is off.”

  She stops on a dime and pivots. “What do you mean?”

  I gesture toward the crop. “Your hydration schedule is wrong.”

  “I beg to differ.” She puts her hands on full hips. “I set it myself.”

  I shrug my shoulder. “You set it wrong.”

  Her brow furrows, and she glances back at the fields. “There’s not one thing wrong with the crops.”

  I look out at the vast expanse of land that’s only going to get bigger as the McKay’s establish their place in the world. If I play my cards right, I can find a place here. All I need to do is lay low, do my job, and not cause any waves.

  That’s not my nature. I’ve always been a hell raiser, and it’s landed me in nothing but trouble time and again. I’m determined this time will be different.

  I glance down at the woman. At six-three, I tower over her. I could pick her up and take her against a wall without even breaking a sweat.

  I never fucking learn, do I?

  I shake off the mental image. It’s habit is all.

  With enough time and pussy at the local bar, I’ll get used to being around her.

  I get back to the subject at hand. “You’re right. There’s nothing wrong with the crops.”

  A smug righteousness flashes across her features.

  “But they’re not as good as they could be.” Her face falls, and I experience a surge of sympathy, but not enough to stop. She’s paying me for a job, and I’m going to do it. She’ll have to get over her ego. “If you want award winners, these aren’t going to cut it.”

  She huffs. “Well, I think you’re wrong.”

  I want to argue with her, but choose not to. One, because heated arguments will only ratchet up the lurking sexual tension between us, and two, because it will infuriate her.

  “Time will tell who’s right,” I drawl.

  Her white teeth sink into flesh, and I ignore the surge of lust I feel. I can’t quite tell yet if she’s aware of the chemistry or if she’s too distracted by her dislike of me.

  I flash a smile and lean in. “I expect a ‘You were right, Caden’ when I prove you wrong.”

  Her shoulders snap back. “Like that’s ever going to happen.”

  “Like I said, time will tell.”

  “Exactly.” She leans forward and taps the tip of one blunt nail to her mouth. “Regardless, I can promise those words will never cross my lips.”

  Before I can respond, a male voice says, “What’s going on here?”

  I glance up and see a guy that bears enough similarity to Cat—despite the difference in stature—that he has to be one of the McKay brothers standing across from us, a stunning, flame-haired redhead at his side.

  Everything about the woman is mischievous, from her twinkling, electric blue eyes to her long hair that spells trouble.

  She gives me a wide, slow, brilliant smile. “What do we have here?”

  Cat shakes her head up at the clear blue sky before blowing out a breath. She gestures toward the couple. “Caden Landry, this is my brother Jackson and his fiancée, Gwen Johnson.” She flips a hand back in my direction. “This is our new farm manager.”

  Jackson’s face clears, and he sticks out a hand. “Nice to meet you, man.”

  “You too.” We shake, grips firm and strong.

  Gwen smiles at me in greeting. “Thank God. I was giving myself one more day before I allowed panic to set in.”

  I chuckle. “Well, rest easy. I’m here to save the day.”

  Cat mutters something that sounds an awful lot like, “Oh sweet Jesus.”

  I glance down at her. “You say something, boss?”

  “Nope.” She shakes her head, eyes glittering with not-so-repressed agitation.

  Jackson rubs a hand over his jaw. “You know about the restaurant opening?”

  “I do.”

  “When are you starting? We need to review the crops as soon as possible.” Jackson’s tone carries the cadence of someone expecting to be obeyed, and I can respect that.

  Gwen rolls her eyes. “At least give him a chance to get settled in.”

  I’m eager to get started and get away from Cat so I say, “Not necessary. How about right now?”

  Jackson’s expression flashes with surprise. “You sure?”

  “I’ve got nothing else to do. Quicker we get on it, the better off we’ll be.”

  Jackson flashes a smile at his sister. “I like him already.”

  “Great.” A muscle in her jaw jumps, as I’m pretty sure she’s gritting her teeth.

  I repress a smile.

  She glares at me. “I was about to show you to the cabin.”

  “I’ll come find you later.”

  “Fine.”

  Jackson looks down at his fiancée. “You coming, darlin’?”

  Gwen glances around at the three of us before shaking her head. “I’ll catch up. I want to check on Natalie and talk to Cat first.”

  He snakes an arm around her waist and pulls her close, kissing her firmly on the mouth before releasing her. He turns to me. “Ready?”

  “As I’ll ever be.” I shift my attention to Cat. “Later, boss.”

  She smiles, but her eyes are giving me a big ol’ fuck you.

  Well, I can’t win them all.

  And with her, that’s probably not a bad thing.

  2

  Cat

  Yes, I definitely hate him.

  I glare at Caden’s departing form as he struts off with my brother. He left before I could argue with him about the irrigation schedule. His implication that it’s wrong scratches at me, like a mosquito bite.

  He can’t tell anything from a distance. Right?

  “Well, well, well, this is interesting.”

  I jerk my attention away from the man in question at the sound of Gwen’s voice.

  She’s beaming at me, all bright eyed and curious.

  I love my future sister-in-law. She’s the ray of sunshine we all needed. Not only has she brought Jackson kicking and screaming into havin
g the life he deserves, she is completely devoted to my six-year-old niece, Natalie, who has cerebral palsy and needs full-time care.

  I couldn’t ask for a better momma for the little girl who’s the center of all our lives, and I’m grateful every day for the joy Gwen’s brought to both Jackson and Natalie, but right now I do not like the way she’s looking at me.

  I’m going to ignore her comment, because I’m 100-percent sure I don’t want to know what she means.

  “Jackson likes him,” I say.

  She glances back at the two men disappearing around the bend. “Doesn’t surprise me one bit. They’re cut from the same cloth.”

  “Both arrogant dickheads, huh?” The words are out before I can stop them.

  Gwen laughs. “Yeah, something like that.”

  I’m grinding my teeth, and I make a concerted effort to relax my jaw. “Gabe recommended him, and he knows how important this is to us.”

  “I’ve got a good feeling about him,” Gwen says.

  Everyone seems to have taken to Caden Landry but me. I brush off my irritation and focus on the win. I did my job and made two of the three bosses happy. If Wyatt’s on board, it’ll be a trifecta. My gaze darts back to the cane fields, and I squint against the sun to study the plants. They look perfectly healthy to me.

  I return my attention to Gwen. “You just met him, but I’m glad you like him.”

  She grins at me. “After years of hiring people, you get a sixth sense about these things.”

  She’s from Chicago and still has a famous restaurant there, which has some of the best food I’ve ever had in my life. Considering my brother is a culinary genius, that’s saying something. At one point Jackson was considered one of the top ten chefs in the entire world, until he left it all behind to take care of his sick baby. He was holed up, working in our uncle Beau’s bar when Gwen came looking for him.

  Things didn’t work out quite the way either of them anticipated, but they couldn’t be happier. Together, Jackson and Gwen will create an empire, but for now their focus is on Toulon. But it’s a matter of time. That’s the kind of people they are. They have big dreams and the personalities to execute them.

  My own lack of dreams flitters like a pesky fly in my ears, but I don’t want to think about that right now. I’ve got too much to do making others’ goals a reality to worry about my own.

  I’m also ready to move on from the subject of Caden Landry, so I wave a hand in the air. “I suspect he’ll get the job done. Anyway, how’s Nat doing?”

  “Smooth.” Gwen laughs, pushing her hair off her cheek. “Nat’s hanging in there. Mrs. Potts said therapy was hard today, but she is one determined girl, and every day gets a little easier.”

  Natalie had surgery on both her legs a few months ago and needs to build up her strength before the next round. The hope is she’ll be able to walk within a year—with crutches, of course—but right now she’s still wheelchair bound.

  I nod toward the big farmhouse where we all currently reside. “I’ve got one thing to take care of, and then I’ll go visit her.”

  “She does love her Aunt Cat.” Gwen’s expression turns sly. “So, you’ve got some chemistry with our new manager, huh?”

  I snap back. “The hell I do.”

  How dare she mention it? I’ve ignored it, thank you very much. Of course I felt my body’s visceral reaction to the man—I’m not a complete idiot—but my plan is never to admit that to anyone. Ever.

  “Uh-huh, sure you don’t.” Her tone is light and teasing.

  Obviously she’s having fun at my expense, but it troubles me that she picked up on it so quickly. The best thing I can do here is deny and brush it off. “Please. I don’t even like him, let alone lust after him.”

  Gwen flips her long hair over her shoulder. “Like and lust don’t always go hand in hand.”

  “Well, they do for me.”

  I mean, I think they do. It’s hard to remember the last time I had a date, let alone sex. If only I was the type of woman who could ride a man just for the pleasure of it, but casual has never worked for me. I’m unfortunately one of those annoying women that has to have some kind of emotional connection in order to sleep with a man, and I’ve got far too much on my plate to deal with that nonsense.

  One day I’ll get around to it, but I’ve got things to do. I can’t afford to be distracted. This family business we’ve got going here might not be my dream, but it’s the only thing keeping us from the poor house. The strain of poverty still weighs heavy on my shoulders, and I’m sure as hell never going back. I’ve got to keep moving, do my part, and prove my worth. Men will have to wait.

  “You keep telling yourself that, sister.” Gwen laughs and points to the house. “I’m going to check on Nat and get back to it.”

  “Me too.” I turn and start back toward my office.

  “Oh, and Cat?” Gwen says from behind me.

  I keep walking, calling over my shoulder. “Yeah?”

  “When that man has you flat on your back, remember I told you so.”

  A jarring image of me lying on my desk, Caden Landry between my legs, our bodies pressed together, flashes through my mind. I shut it down before it can gain momentum.

  I swing around, walking backward and flipping Gwen off. “Why do I like you again?”

  She grins. “Because I’m delightful.”

  I turn back, ignore her, and keep on going.

  Her laughter floats on the air before disappearing into the wind, but that stupid image of Caden and me remains.

  I glance at the clock hanging on the wall opposite my desk.

  It’s five fifty. Time to wrap it up so I’m not late for dinner.

  We eat at six sharp, and if we’re not at the table, Mrs. Potts, our housekeeper and Natalie’s caregiver, will give us hell. We might pay her, but she rules the roost with an iron fist and never lets us forget it.

  I quickly review the things I haven’t checked off my list yet. I’ve got a couple hours left before I can call it a day, but that’s to be expected. Family businesses aren’t nine-to-five jobs. I put things in order quickly so I can hit the ground running after dinner. Then I glance back at the clock.

  Shit. It’s five fifty-eight. I’ll have to run to make it.

  Two minutes later, I’m slightly breathless as I swing through the door that leads into our large, farmhouse kitchen.

  Mrs. Potts tugs at her apron in a huff. “You’re late, missy.”

  I shake my head. “No, I’m not. I’m right on time.”

  I slide into my chair as my watch hits six, grab my napkin, and look up.

  Right into Caden Landry’s amused blue eyes.

  I’m so surprised by his presence that I forget to guard myself and blurt, “What the hell are you doing here?”

  The corners of his mouth tug.

  “I was invited.” His voice is a long, slow drawl, dripping like thick honey over my skin.

  Everyone at the table—except for Natalie who’s preoccupied with something on Gwen’s phone—is watching me with avid curiosity.

  I straighten my shoulders. “Oh. That’s nice.”

  He chuckles.

  I clear my throat. “Are you settled in?”

  He shrugs. “Never got to the cabin, but I’m sure I’ll find my way there eventually.”

  Gwen perks up, reaching for the iced tea pitcher in front of her. “I’m sure Cat can walk you there after dinner.”

  I grit my teeth and force my expression to remain impassive. I smile politely at the nightmare across from me. “Of course.”

  He shakes his head. “Don’t trouble yourself. I’ll find my way.”

  Good. The less time I spend with him the better. “Great. I’ll give you the keys.” I pick up a fork. “You’ll need to stop by the office tomorrow to fill out paperwork so I can put you on the payroll.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Why do I feel like every time he speaks, he’s mocking me? Maybe it’s because I’m hyperaware of him.
I remind myself this too shall pass. In a week, his presence will be no big deal, and this on-edge, prickly feeling will go away.

  I’ll treat him no different than I treated Burt, our last farm manager.

  Mrs. Potts puts down a bowl of steaming mashed potatoes before plucking the cell out of Natalie’s hand. “No phones at the table.”

  My niece opens her mouth to object, but when she sees Mrs. Potts’ face, she closes it.

  Mrs. Potts huffs and removes her apron from her ample frame before addressing Natalie. “I don’t want any sass from you when it’s time for bed, young lady.”

  Nat beams from her wheelchair and puts her hand dramatically on her chest. “Me? Never.”

  I laugh, my heart swelling with love for my niece. She’s fun, dramatic, and a total con artist.

  She’s perfect.

  “Yes, you,” Mrs. Potts says, wagging a finger. “Now be a good girl and eat your vegetables. I’ll see you after dinner.”

  Nat wrinkles her nose and pushes at her broccoli. “Oh, all right.”

  Jackson points his knife in Caden’s direction. “Cat, now this was a smart hire. He knows his shit.”

  “Daddy!” Natalie gives him a disapproving look. “No swearing during dinner.”

  Jackson rolls his eyes at her. “You just shush it. She’s gone.”

  Everyone looks around, and Mrs. Potts has indeed left the kitchen I designed when we finally had the money to renovate it.

  The air relaxes a bit.

  Gwen shrugs. “It still doesn’t hurt to watch your language in front of the minor.”

  “Anyway.” Jackson’s eyes narrow on his future wife before turning back to me. “We need more like him.”

  The words make me bristle. Jackson doesn’t mean to knock my hiring practices. It’s just his nature. He’s demanding, exacting, and has high standards. It’s part of his creative genius.

  To cover my irritation, I offer Caden a sardonic smile. “You have a fanboy. How cute.”

  Caden’s gaze slides to mine and locks in place. His eyes are such a strange color—not light and electric like Gwen’s, but dark and mysterious, a shade or two lighter than navy. I’ve never seen anything like them. I ignore the way my stomach dips.