Page 5 of Cattle Stop

Cooper pops the apple into his mouth. “Hi.”

“Coop’s gonna help me train the squirrels to work on the farm,” Penny says.

“That was the grand idea I just walked in on?” Whit asks.

What an ass. What an unfortunately gorgeous asshole. Especially since the shape of Whit’s chest beneath the thin fabric of his T-shirt, the perfect curls in his dark hair, and those deep brown eyes of his make Cooper want to do stupid shit like stare at him. How fucking treacherous to be back here on the farm. Every single time Cooper spends too long around Whit, that damn crush crops up again, unwanted and stubborn and overwhelming.

All the more reason to ignore it. Not to let it get a foothold in his mind again, and to focus on his irritation with Whit, that familiar annoyance with him that keeps those feelings at bay.

“I know you’re allergic to new ideas, but it was a good one.” Cooper has half a mind to kick away the empty chair next to him before Whit can take it, but Sadie’s in the way, so he just grimaces as Whit sits. “How you been?”

“Fine.” Whit neatly sandwiches a piece of cheddar between two thin slices of apple. “Does this mean you’re staying?”

“I’ve got a job to get to, actually.”

“You got a job?”

“Surprised?”

“You should stay for a bit, Coop,” Drew says.

Whit takes a neat, tidy bite of his perfectly constructed, stupid snack and glances at Cooper’s cheese still on the table. “You always ask Drew for a reference. Figured I would’ve heard if that’d been the case.”

“Well, I’m working on getting a job.” Cooper grabs the last slice of apple before Whit can. “It’s a real awesome farm out in Oregon, and I’m driving out there soon as I say hi to you lot. New life on the West Coast, see you never.”

“Think they know about squirrel training?” Penny asks. Across the kitchen, the kettle whistles and she pushes her chair back. “Want tea, anyone?”

“I’ll have some, but sit, stay, I’ll get it.” Drew stands. “What kind of farm?”

“Goats, and they’ve got a real sweet setup.”

“Oh,” Whit says. “Goats. I hear you love goats.”

Drew points from Whit to Cooper and back again as he fills Penny’s favorite mug. “It’s been all of five minutes. Play nice. And I want to hear about the new job.”

“We always do love to hear the latest career move,” Whit says.

At least I haven’t worked at the same place my entire adult life, Cooper could snap. Though it wouldn’t be worth it, because Whit’s not even looking at him. No, he’s just slicing a piece of bread for himself and covering it with Brie. Same old Cooper coming up with a retort just as Whit’s already coolly, drolly brushing him off.

So no, nothing around here has changed. For the better in so many ways, like a worn-in, well-loved life Cooper can slip back into, but the stillness of time means Whit’s the same as ever: achingly handsome and his attitude already grating under Cooper’s skin.

“I was going to hit the road to get down to Brooklyn,” Cooper says. “I wanted to see mother number one and mother number two before I head out for the sunset.”

Drew sets Penny’s mug on the table. “Okay, but counterargument, I will feed you cheese until you burst.”

“Squirrel training, squirrel training,” Penny chants, slapping the table in time with the words. “Come on, Coop, stay tonight at least. I’m off work, and Whit’s here too, so we can all hang out.”

“Yeah, and you can see the true state of dilapidation this damn place is in,” Drew says as he roots through the cupboard for another mug.

Cooper frowns at Drew’s back, the joking in Drew’s voice too faint beneath what sounds like genuine exhaustion. Beneath the table, Penny kicks at Cooper’s ankle.

“What?” Cooper asks.

“Sorry.” She kicks again and Whit looks up at her. “Dile que haría una gran diferencia si se queda hoy, de todas formas necesitamos la ayuda.”1

Whit neatly, precisely spreads jam over his Brie.

“Tell him,” Penny says.