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His words were filled with a quiet intensity that sent a shiver down my spine and ignited a warmth in my cheeks, which spread to other parts of my body.
“Okay,” I breathed out, my heart racing at the implications of his decision.
Despite our impromptu date we had shared and the rekindled connection, Wyatt hadn’t so much as attempted to kiss me. Yet the thought of him sharing my bed tonight unleashed a torrent of fantasies that went far beyond the realm of innocent kisses. My mind wandered to the possibilities of tangled sheets, heated touches, and the pleasure of rediscovering each other in the most intimate way possible.
Mom had a big lunch ready for us when we went back downstairs, and Wyatt’s stomach rumbled at the sight of food, making us all laugh.
“Sorry,” he said, a bit embarrassed. “I’m starving, and that looks amazing.” On the table were barbecue ribs, baked potatoes, corn on the cob, and coleslaw. “All this is for lunch?” he asked in disbelief.
“I figured you guys would be hungry after the drive, so I made the big meal for lunch, and we’ll have a nice stew for supper later,” Mom explained.
“More food later?”
“Yes, there’s three meals a day around here,” I teased. “We don’t starve our cowboys.”
“We can’t when we work them as hard as we do,” Dad added.
We all dug into the food, and I watched, amused, as Wyatt shovelled it in.
Mom looked especially pleased; she loved feeding people. “How is it?” she asked Wyatt.
“The best meal I have ever had.”
“Good. I don’t like leftovers, so have more.”
Wyatt nodded and helped himself to more of everything. Mom raised an eyebrow at me, and I shrugged and smiled.
Abby came into the kitchen in her riding clothes—white breeches a navy polo shirt tucked in with a thin leather belt, and tall black boots. Her brown hair was pulled back from her face in a French braid.
Her presence changed the atmosphere. She greeted everyone politely, but her eyes lingered on Wyatt with a hint of curiosity. Taking a seat, she ate quietly.
“How was your ride?” I asked her.
“It was fine.”
I waited for her to elaborate, but she didn’t. I guess we weren’t past our fight at the rodeo.
When we were all stuffed to capacity, Dad stood up and said it was time for a walk. “Walking after meals is good for digestion,” he said. “I can show you some of the stuff I want to get done while you’re here.”
Wyatt followed him outside after Mom shooed us away, refusing help with the cleanup.
“We’re a little short-staffed right now,” Dad explained, “so your timing couldn’t be better.”
“I’m happy to help.”
“Good, good. I hear you’re doing well with Gambler.”
“They’re amazing together,” I said.
“I appreciate Kinsley letting me use him. I know I need to look at getting another horse of my own. I will. I—”
“There’s no hurry,” I assured him. “Cher and I are doing great. You and Gambler are a great team.”
“Yeah, but...” He struggled; the conflict blatant on his face.
I wanted to end this conversation before we ended up in another fight.
“We’ll get that sorted out later,” Dad said, coming to my rescue. “Come look at these cows, will you?”
