“I get all of that.” Mackenzie’s rigid body kicked down a notch. “And of course we planned to hire someone, but I didn’t think you’d go and do it without me.”
“It just...happened.” Luc leaned back against the workbench. “You know how hard it’s been to find someone who’s the right fit. And now summer season is here. We should have hired this person weeks ago. So, when I found a match, I jumped on it. I wasn’t trying to overstep. I just—” his arms shot up in a helpless gesture “—feel better knowing we’ve got extra enforcements. Another lead. Someone who can handle the shooting range and staff and guests.”
And how do you know this person can do all of those things? Do they have any experience?
But Mackenzie knew experience itself was overrated. What mattered was leadership and customer-service skills. If someone could handle a horse and interact well with staff and guests, they could be trained.
She slid her tongue between her teeth to trap it. To keep from continuing her tirade. Luc normally didn’t pull stunts like this. But the babies had him all twitterpated. She could probably extend some grace. This time. And if Luc liked this new guy, she probably would, too. They thought alike. Had that twin connection that tethered her to him.
“Okay.” She tried to get okay with her okay. “So, who is it?”
“Me.” That voice.
It came from behind her, and she whirled to face it. Him. Jace Hawke. He stood just inside the open barn door, holding a saddle, sunshine outlining his silhouette like he was some sort of gift from above.
What? Impossible. Luc would never have hired her high school boyfriend. The ex who had turned her heart from mushy soft to solid boulder.
With his cowboy hat on, Mackenzie couldn’t tell if she was still taller than Jace by a quarter of an inch. Yes—they’d measured back when they’d been young and in love. Before he’d trampled her to smithereens.
She straightened her shoulders, wanting to use every advantage when it came to him. Wishing she were a giant and she could squash him like a bug, then flick him out of the barn.
“Kenzie Rae.” He nodded in greeting. As if they were old friends, without a mountain range of hurt between them.
He’d always called her that. Like he’d trademarked it. Owned it. Owned her, really.
And he’d always had an irritating drawl.
Well, in high school it hadn’t been irritating. Back then it had curled into her, deep and warm and mesmerizing. She’d been starry-eyed over him. For two and a half years they’d dated. And he’d taken off, leaving her a note? A stupid, worthless note.
Emma’s fiancé was always surprising her with notes, and she thought it was romantic. The girl went all swoony over the gesture. But not Mackenzie. Notes were cop-outs. Used when someone didn’t have the guts to say something to your face.
Jace’s jeans and boots and blue button-up shirt fitted him like a softened ball glove, outlining all of those I-left-you-to-go-ride-bulls muscles he’d accumulated over the years. And the same quiet confidence oozed from him.
The kind that destroyed everything in its wake. That told lies and then turned tail and ran.
“I’ll store my saddle. Give you two a minute.” He spoke to Luc, eyes toggling back to her before he strode toward the saddle room.
To store his saddle.
Because he was planning to stick around. Because Luc had hired him.
Seriously? Was she smack dab in the middle of a nightmare? Mackenzie slammed her eyelids closed. He’s not here. He’s not here. I’m having a bad dream. I just need to wake up and then... She peeked just as Jace disappeared through the saddle-room door. He’ll still be here.
“You’re playing me, right?” She held her brother’s gaze. Glued herself there until he gave an answer as to why he’d do this to her.
His mouth was slightly ajar, as if he’d just been declared at fault in a deadly accident. “I didn’t know it was like that. I didn’t realize... I thought the two of you ended on good terms.”
Because that was the story she’d spun the summer after graduation. Jace had left town to chase his dream and ride bulls...and she’d been all for it.
That had been so much easier to say than the truth: he left me a note and took off. He never said goodbye. He destroyed me.
Those weren’t phrases Mackenzie let into her vocabulary. Ever. And she’d worked incredibly hard to not let anyone—especially her twin—know how much Jace’s leaving had hurt her.
Turns out her efforts had worked.
“I ran into Jace in town last night, and we got to talking. He’s good with animals and people. He knows cattle roping, team penning, steer wrestling. He can teach the other wranglers some new competitions. The guests would love it. I thought he’d be a perfect fit.” Luc’s shoulder lift said, I’m sorry and I didn’t know, all rolled into one pathetic package that tugged on her sympathies.
Oh, Luc.
She understood why he’d hired Jace without talking to her first: the desperation he felt with twins on the way during their busiest time of year. But what was Jace even doing in town?
Why wasn’t he off riding bulls? He couldn’t need money, could he? Rodeoing would pay him far more than they ever could. And she’d followed enough of his career to know he’d been successful. Up until about three years ago, when she’d decided she couldn’t handle it anymore and had to cut him loose. To not know what was going on with him. How he was faring. Not that Mackenzie ever planned to admit any of that.
Luc groaned. “I practically begged him to help us out for the summer.”
Which translated in Luc-speak to “How can I go back on that? I can’t unhire him.”
Ugh. Her brother was her soft spot. Her best friend. And he was destroying her right now.
“When were you planning to share all of this with me? After he’d been working here for two weeks?” Mackenzie detested the tremor lacing her questions, even if it was so slight, Luc probably didn’t catch it. She didn’t do shaky. Or nervous.
She did strong and unbreakable.
Except when it came to Jace Hawke.
“I called you twice last night and you didn’t answer.”
She’d fallen asleep on the couch. As usual.
“So then I sent you a text this morning.”
“I was on a phone call.” Their white-water rafting supplier had raised prices on this year’s equipment without letting them know. She’d been negotiating for the sake of their business. You’re welcome.
Jace cleared his throat, announcing his arrival as he exited the saddle room. Of course it hadn’t taken him that long to store his saddle. He’d been giving them space. But the man couldn’t stay in there forever, and that was how long it would take for Mackenzie and Luc to work this out.
Jace crossed to stand next to Luc. Like the two of them were a team in gym class Mackenzie wasn’t invited to play on. He wrenched his hat from his head in a contrite gesture she didn’t believe for a millisecond, sending honey-brown hair loping across his forehead.
“Luc.” Bea popped her head into the barn. “Ruby took a tumble and scraped up her leg. She’s screaming for you or Cate.”
“Coming.” Luc strode toward the exit, slowing as he passed her. “We’ll talk more,” he said for her ears only. “Just...behave yourself.