⇢ Grant

Mid-summer heat had descended on Hollow Oak like a biblical plague. A few clouds bordered the mountain peaks, teasing a promise of shade and a sprinkle of rain the grass desperately needed.

He stopped for a break and leaned against the open doorway, cracking the seal on a cold bottle of water. After a decade of use and a stellar turn-around rate that got both private and public funding, he thought they'd put air conditioning into the guest houses. Apparently not.

More than a few success stories had come out of this place, but he doubted a lack of cold air was the key factor. If sweating could change a man, he'd have evolved into a superhuman by now. Instead all he got was a drenched shirt that had long ago been abandoned along the fenceline.

Between airing out a year's worth of dust and making sure all the guest rooms were stocked with fresh supplies, he'd run around the ranch more than a dozen times. They were short-staffed this summer, not that he minded, but it meant he had to put in twice as much work. He'd been the only one to come back a second year in a row, and though everyone kept bringing up college like it might change his mind, he didn't have plans to go anywhere else. He didn't belong anywhere else.

Besides, Hollow Oak needed workers who cared, and he needed something good to spend his energy on. Better than mingling with a bunch of high-strung kids his age who thought getting a piece of paper meant they'd made an important contribution to society. Living out here required true work ethic.

A breeze licked the sweat rolling down his chest, and he relished the taste of cool spring water, guzzling a whole bottle in one go. Then the rumbling of an engine broke through the silent countryside, and he looked up in time to see a black Audi barreling down the gravel drive. But guests weren't supposed to arrive until tomorrow, and that vehicle didn't belong to anyone from town.

In the front, two blondes with sunglasses as big as their foreheads craned their necks like this was some sort of petting zoo. One of them waved, her pink nails flashing in a little arc that was meant to be cute and flirtatious.

He sighed and returned her greeting. It was cute all right, but she looked so out of place that he had to dip his head and hide a chuckle under the brim of his hat. The only animal he'd consider letting her near was the one between his legs. But he doubted she could handle that, either.

In any case, his Ma raised a gentleman, so he pushed off the wall and went to give them directions to the closest Starbucks.

The vehicle rolled to a stop and the one with pink nails stepped out, lifting her glasses to reveal deep brown eyes framed by long lashes. Her attention lingered over his abdomen and despite the high-heeled ankle boots and impressive legs, she had to tip her head to meet his gaze. He held back a smirk as she put on a sultry smile that came across as more than a little suggestive. "This place has quite the view, doesn't it?"

He ignored her insinuation. "Can I help you?"

As she turned to observe the ranch house, the wind picked up strands of her hair and twirled them like golden fairy silk. "Well, this is where I'm supposed to be staying for the next month."

This time his laugh echoed out loud. "Ma'am, I'm sure you have the wrong address."

She looked back at him and arched a thin blonde eyebrow, pursing her lips like the joke was on him. No way would a dolled-up city girl like her want to spend a month out here.

The front door of the main house swung open and shattered the moment. Or whatever that was. He turned as Mrs. Weston stepped out, on-point as always, followed by her husband. The elderly couple trekked across the lawn to greet Mrs. Lost And Confused.

Both had been his mentors at some point or another, and they'd grown close enough to be honorary grandparents. They may have graying hairs on their head, but they kept a gait as swift and energetic as any pair of troublemakers. Of course, it made sense that they'd be full of energy after he took care of all the heavy lifting.

"Hello dear, you must be Serena?" Mrs. Weston slipped between their awkward stand-off and quickly broke the ice.

The blonde nodded and motioned inside the car, "And this is Lexi, my sister. She offered to drive me out here." Serena stuffed a hand in the back pocket of her shorts and pushed out her hips, accentuating the curve of her ass.

Wait. He forced his attention back to her conversation with Mrs. Weston.

So she hadn't been kidding?

"We're glad to have you," Mrs Weston was saying, "My husband and I run Hollow Oak." They exchanged handshakes. "We should have everything you need, but if something comes up, just let us know."

Mrs. Weston turned to him, the corners of her eyes crinkled with a smile. "Or you can ask Grant. I see you've already met. He's our best worker, and I'm sure he'd love to help you get settled in."

Calling on his better judgment, he nodded and kept any additional commentary to himself. Then slid his eyes over Serena a second time. This was the girl he'd be working with? He hadn't heard much, but he knew they'd gotten someone else to come up and be a second counselor for the month.

She wore booty-shorts and a crop-top. That was about as far from work attire as one could get. Her tan stomach had probably seen the inside of a salon more than the sun. Not to mention the only thing those shoes would be good for was strutting around and looking pretty. They were made of suede for heaven's sake, not even practical leather that could handle a bit of mud.

What the hell had everyone been thinking when they gave her this job?

"Would you sister like to come in for a drink?"  Mrs. Weston asked. "She's more than welcome to rest a bit before making the drive back."

"I'll ask, but I'm sure she wants to get back before it gets late." Serena went to open the car door again.

He cleared his throat. Best to make himself busy before he got roped into being the entertainment. "I'll take your bags to the room, if you'd like."

Serena gave him a smile brighter than sunshine itself. "That would be great, I'll have Lexi pop the trunk."

He sauntered around the back of the car while the ladies continued talking, and Mr. Weston conveniently excused himself to go check on a vague something 'out back'.

The trunk hatch opened with a click, and he let out a muffled groan. Somehow those girls had managed to stuff three suitcases in here. Maybe that chick had some skills after all, because such a small space was not meant to hold this much. At this rate, he was surprised she didn't come with a personal attendant.

He leaned over to catch Serena's attention. "All of these?"

"Yep." Her lips popped around the 'p', full and glossy.

He made sure to hide his head before rolling his eyes. She wouldn't last a week.

But if she wanted to put that cute mouth of hers to good use, he might let her. The only thing he'd likely get out of this whole ordeal was a blow job anyway.

Grabbing a suitcase in each hand, he heaved them out of the trunk and disappeared into the women's guesthouse.

The ranch's layout was simple enough, one house for the boys and another for the girls. A large common room spread out on the main floor of each, along with the counselor's bedroom, private bath, laundry, and a utility closet. The other bedrooms were all upstairs, two beds a piece with a shared shower and toilet. The Westons lived in the main house, where everyone gathered for meal times and evening meetings when the summer program was in session.

Grateful he didn't have to carry these things up any stairs, he lumbered into what would be Serena's room and dropped the suitcases next to the bed. They hit the floor with a rattling thud. Her window looked out directly across from where he'd be with the guys, but he didn't plan on taking advantage of their proximity. Didn't need her pretty head thinking he was desperate for some action. Even if she would take first prize in a wet t-shirt contest.

When he left to get the third suitcase, the Westons had both disappeared and Serena was busy talking to her sister inside the car. Wordlessly, he took the last bag—which must have been full of bricks—and shut the back hatch. That earned him a glare from the front seat, but he brushed it off and went inside.

After talking a few strides, the engine turned on and gravel crunched as the car pulled out of the drive. Then the clack of heels echoed across the wood flooring. He dropped the suitcase and braced himself before turning around.

Serena had stopped at the open door, arms crossed over her chest. She met his eyes with a hard stare.

Great, he'd already managed to piss her off.