Suddenly "e;hard labor"e; doesn't sound so bad.Cowboys. Everywhere I look.Big hands. Broad shoulders. Dirty smirks.And somehow I ended up with not one, not two, but three of them—thanks to the judge who decided a little community service would make me respectable.Good luck with that.I swear I'll do the bare minimum, keep my head down, and get through this. But between mud-soaked chores, stolen kisses, and nights that get way too hot under the stars? Resisting them isn't just hard—it's impossible.I was told this would be punishment.Instead, it's barn loft hook-ups… and a pig with a real talent for cock-blocking.So call me reckless. Call me out of control.I call it the best mistake I've ever made.