Roseanne.
Dad: How's it going?
Roseanne: It's beautiful out here.
Dad: I meant the cowgirl.
Roseanne: Oh, her? She hates me.
Dad: You'll win her over. Just make sure she keeps her dick in her pants.
Roseanne: I'll pass the message along. A sure way to win her over!
She's so fragile.
I told Lisa to keep up, and I'm almost positive she stood in that field sulking just to prove a point. It's kind of amusing. My lips twitch as I set up my files and laptop on the living room table. We need to hammer out a schedule for the coming months, and I'm going to need Rodeo King here to do that.
Eventually, I hear the back door slam and heavy footfalls traveling in my direction. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch sight of her frame. her broad shoulders, her unruly hair, and trimmed bangs. You'd have to be dead to not appreciate a woman like Lisa Manoban.
She's not pretty and polished. She's rugged and a little rough around the edges.
One hundred percent different from any woman I've met. Girls like me don't usually mix with women like her. We don't even mix in the same circles, but that doesn't stop me from appreciating her. The way a pair of Wranglers fit her hasn't changed since her early days on the circuit.
"I was worried a bear had attacked you," I announce as I seat myself on one of the tufted leather club chairs.
"Black bears rarely attack people," she husks as she strides into the living room, eyeing up my spread like it might be an explosive or something.
"Grizzlies?"
"Mostly stick to the mountains," she grumbles.
"Okay. Cougar?"
She towers above me and quirks a brow.
"Yeah," I sigh and lean back in the comfy chair, sensing the pressure of her honeyed stare on my body. "You definitely look like cougar bait."
She shakes her head while I bite back a grin. "this is going to be a long two months."
"You could always throw yourself down that well I saw on my way back to the house and put yourself right out of this misery."
That comment sobers her and instead of responding with something flippant, she flops down on the couch across from me and runs her hands through her hair. The silence stretches between us as I regard her carefully.
"My mom used to make wishes down that well with my brothers and me. Don't remember it at all."
Fuuucckkk. Talk about stepping in it, Roseanne. The sinking feeling in my chest has me clearing my throat noisily. "I'm sorry," I say. Because I really am.
She just nods, and I opt to change the subject. Put the conversation back on the safe ground that is work. Our arrangement that she hates so much is preferable to where I just took things. "Tell me what the next two months looked like for you before I came onto the scene."
"You mean before I got saddled with you? It looked pretty great."
I just nod and say a quiet, "Yeehaw," as I twirl my finger around beside my head like I'm swinging a lasso.
Because it's not like she's making this fun. She's acting like I'm some sort of enemy when I'm actually just here to make her life easier.
I reach for the day timer in front of me, grab my favorite silver pen, and proceed to stare at her until she talks. I listen and note specific dates as she reads them off her phone while completely avoiding eye contact with me.
We exchange phone numbers and email addresses, and I make clear that she's to behave like a good little girl that no one can find fault in for the next eight weeks.
I don't get too specific, because I'm hoping she's picking up what I'm putting down as I speak in vague generalities about her behavior-that Little Lisa needs to stay in her pants. Because having to dictate her sexual activities is just way beyond my pay grade. Mason can call her and break those details down himself. Lisa and I are going to need to maintain some semblance of dignity if we're spending the next two months stuck together.
