My Wild Sexy Summer With Country Chicks... -hot -

She had a smile that was equal parts challenge and invitation. And that’s when I knew—this wasn’t going to be a summer of mending fences. This was going to be a summer of getting unmended . The farm was called “Whispering Pines,” and it was run by Daisy and her two cousins, Savannah and June. Three country chicks who could throw a bale of hay heavier than me, gut a fish without flinching, and still smell like vanilla and wildflowers at sundown.

Or stay.

My first week was a disaster. I fell into a trough. I got kicked by a goat (twice). But on the seventh night, everything changed. My Wild Sexy Summer With Country Chicks... -HOT

Let’s just say I learned that country chicks don’t just like to share. They excel at it. Autumn came too fast. The leaves turned gold and crimson. The first frost kissed the fields. And I had a choice: go back to the city, back to the gray cubicles and the cold apartments and the women who thought “adventure” meant trying a new brunch spot. She had a smile that was equal parts

My heart stopped.

“Daisy doesn’t have to know everything,” Savannah whispered, unbuttoning her overalls. The farm was called “Whispering Pines,” and it