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it and something told me that was all he wanted to say, so I let it go. I
had to wonder what he meant by “Even when you don’t want it to.”
    “Do you hunt like your dad?”
    He smiled again. “You are PETA, aren’t you?”
    “I was just curious,” I said with my own smile. “I’m
not judging.”
    “No,” he said. “I don’t hunt. I don’t fish either.
Pretty sad excuse for a country boy, aren’t I?”
    “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with not doing
either of those things…but why not? Obviously you’ve been exposed to it.”
    He shrugged and said, “Ever since I was a kid, I’ve
felt more comfortable with animals than I do people. I just don’t see any reason
to hunt or fish unless you need to in order to eat. We slaughter our cattle and
we eat that…and the chickens and pigs. I don’t have issue with that, it’s the big circle of life. But when it comes to
sticking a hook in the mouth of a fish I don’t need because I have a freezer
full of beef or shooting Bambi’s dad…I’m just not interested.”
    “Oh, I agree.” I was surprised. I don’t know why. I
guess just my own city ideas about country people. “Was your dad really
disappointed that you didn’t enjoy those things with him?”
    He got a strange look on his face and I was sorry
I’d asked. Eventually he said, “I’m not the poster child for making a parent
proud.”
    “He seems proud of your bull riding. He was excited
to go to the rodeo tomorrow.” Mark raised an eyebrow slightly and then he
smiled.
    “Yeah. I’m glad you and your mom are going, too. It will be fun.” There was something
there between him and his dad, but it was something he obviously didn’t want to
talk about .
    “I think it will be, too,” I said, honestly looking
forward to it at this point. “Well, I think I’ll turn in,” I told him.
    “Alright, Lexi,” he said, looking directly into my
eyes. “You have a good night.”
    I shuddered and hoped that he would think it was
from the cold. “You too, Mark.”

 
    CHAPTER
EIGHT
    LEXI
    I woke up the next day to the morning sun just
beginning to stream in through the curtains. There was a lot of noise going on
down below and when I was able to drag myself up out of the comfy bed, I went
over to the window and looked out. My eyes were treated to a sight that would
completely negate my need for coffee today. Mark was again unsaddling a horse…I
wondered if this guy ever slept. There were a couple of other guys with him.
One was older and the other younger. They were dressed in old jeans and boots
and hats, too. I’m going to assume they are the actual ranch hands, but I could
be wrong. Maybe they were brothers, too.
    Mark was wearing his standard jeans, but today he
had on just a white A-line tank, the kind we called “wife-beaters.” His right
arm had a tattoo on it that looked like it started up at the shoulder and
worked its way down to his elbow. It was a cowboy, riding a bull. It was really
colorful and really, really hot. I had no idea that I liked tattoos so much. Oh
Jesus! I need a cold shower. I watched as he and the other two guys hitched up
a horse trailer to a big green pick-up. His biceps flexed and glistened in the
morning sun. My mouth was completely dry from hanging open and panting like a
dog in heat as I watched. Making it all that much worse, I
was also hiding behind the curtain as I watched like a real pervert. By
the time I pulled my brother-lusting self together, took my shower and dressed,
and got downstairs, the “family” was at the table having breakfast.
    “Good morning, sweetie,” Mom said. “How did you
sleep?”
    “Good. My bed is so comfortable, thanks, Mom.” I
gave her a kiss on the cheek and said good morning to Mark and Rob before I sat
down. Thank God Mark put on a regular shirt before breakfast; I’m not sure how
much more of his hotness I would be able to take. Another plus since I stalled
so long was that he was finishing up his breakfast