Free Two Wild for Teacher: Lone Star Lovers, Book 6 by Delilah Devlin Page B

material. It made him think, though. If AJ read the kind of books Mandy wrote, maybe she would know what to do if one of them—or both of them—put the moves on her.
    Don’t go there. You don’t fuck the hired hands, remember?
    But Joe had been known to once in a great while. It wasn’t a comforting thought.
    Her words finally registered and he asked, “You need boots?”
    “Yeah, I knocked the corner off a heel this morning. But that’s all right,” she said, keeping her eyes glued the television. “I’ll pick up a pair when we go through Sioux Falls.”
    “Okay then—guess we’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, snagging his jacket and cap off the hook by the door.
    She didn’t look up. “Have a good time.”
    “Will do.”
    They were both silent until they got into the truck and then Joe blew out a loud breath. “Well, I didn’t see that coming.”
    Brent started up the engine. “Me neither.”
    “Shit, why do I feel bad about leaving her there?”
    “I don’t know. She seemed glad enough to see us go,” he said with a grin, pulling away from the camper. They could have walked, since the RV park was less than a mile from the bar, but driving everywhere was an ingrained habit. He’d never lived anyplace he didn’t have to drive at least a couple of miles to borrow a cup of sugar from a neighbor.
    “Yeah, but she spends too much time alone.”
    “That’s her choice, Joe. She knew when she hired on with a custom farming crew that she’d probably be the only woman.” And he tried to show her as little deference as possible for exactly that reason. If he treated her with kid gloves, she’d probably be uncomfortable and the guys would be resentful.
    When she’d reported for work at their North Platte job in September, hiring packet in hand and a laptop and duffel bag slung over her shoulders, he’d just about shit a brick. What the hell was Brenda thinking, sending a woman up here? And why the hell hadn’t she warned him?
    Well, the answer to that last one was obvious—he’d have vetoed her choice of hire without even giving AJ Pender a chance and Brenda knew it. It was just asking for trouble to put single women on custom farming crews. Hell, the quarters were tight enough already without tossing a decent-looking female into the mix, especially one who wasn’t related to any of the crew. But if he voiced that opinion in the wrong place, to the wrong person, he’d have the ACLU, the IRS, the SPCA, NASA and every other alphabet soup organization under the sun up his ass—assuming he still had an ass after Mandy and Brenda were through with him.
    But instead of sending her off, he’d looked AJ over from her crown of short, pale curls to the toes of her scuffed work boots and asked, “So what does AJ stand for?”
    “None of your business,” she replied, radiating tension. “I take it you were expecting a man?”
    Wisely, he’d held his tongue and given himself a minute to consider the situation. He’d been happy enough with her qualifications when Brenda emailed him her application, and she had that look about her that always got to him when he was interviewing displaced farmers.
    “Yeah, I was,” he finally said. “But I’ll get over it. I hope you weren’t expecting a ladies-only camper.”
    “No sir. I expect to be treated just like everyone else.”
    He pointed to his pickup. “In that case, you can stow your gear in the backseat for the time being and take over for Seth Dietz running that grain cart.”
    He’d planned on AJ bunking in with Seth and his younger brother Tim, but that was when he thought she was probably another young horndog. The only viable option was to put her in with Joe, who made no bones about his preference for lovers who disappeared before the sun came up the next morning. Brent had been prepared for Joe to grumble a little about having to share the bunkroom, but instead he’d just smirked and said, “You’re the boss.” That’s when it had dawned