After I dry off and get dressed, I head to the barn to meet up with my cousin Riley, who is five years older than me. As the operations manager, he assigns the duties to the rotating ranch hands each morning. I’m already dreading it because I know he’ll ride my ass for being so late. I usually show up around six, sometimes seven if I’m being honest, but since it’s nearly eight now, I’m bracing myself for his wrath.

It’s deserved, but damn, I have a life too, and working so much wears down my balls. I love this lifestyle and wouldn’t want to be working in an office or for anyone else. However, there’s not a lot of schedule freedom and definitely no special privileges for the Bishops. I swear, having this last name means we’re held to a higher standard than someone who gets hired off the streets.

As soon as I walk in, he greets me with a scowl.

“I don’t wanna hear it,” I mutter, realizing I haven’t had a drop of coffee since yesterday morning. The coffee pot looks like it’s been on for hours because the liquid is burnt to the bottom.

“Oh, you’re gonna hear what I have to say,” he states, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t want any more of your excuses about bein’ out late. I don’t give two fucks about who you were with or who you were doing all night. You have responsibilities regardless of your evening activities.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. I wouldn’t tell you my business, even if you asked nicely.”

“Hate to break it to ya, but no one cares,” he throws back. “How about you take your job a little more seriously and show up on time?”

“Mm-hmm. Like you’re the shining example here. What are you gonna do, write me up?” I mock. “Give me a fuckin’ break.”

He stares me down for a few more seconds, but he knows he doesn’t intimidate me. Riley’s used to my antics and knows arguing with me is a losing battle. So instead of continuing to be a dick, he just gives me my assignment.

“The goat farm? Seriously?” I groan.

“Yeah, Ethan needs some help, and you’re the only one available.”

“Great. Maybe I’ll be able to catch a nap before lunch then.”

He shakes his head, and I chuckle with amusement as I make my way out.

“Have a good day,” I taunt for the fuck of it.

“You better be early tomorrow to make up for this shit show,” he shouts.

“Okay, bossman!” I sing-song. For the most part, he just likes to give me a hard time. He’s usually all jokes with his best friend, Diesel, but today, he’s in a shittier mood than usual. I tend to have that effect on people.