Page 42 of September’s Cowboy Travis

Beau stepped back and brushed his gloves together. “Maybe tell her that instead of arguing with me about it.”

One of the Clydesdales stretched his neck toward Beau's shoulder, and Beau reached up to scratch beneath the horse's jaw without looking.

“Is that supposed to be relationship advice?”

“Nope.”

“Good, because I'm not taking relationship advice from you.”

Beau stopped long enough to look over his shoulder. “Never said you should.”

Then he kept walking.

I stood next to the trailer for another second before following him.

“That's still advice.”

“Then ignore it.”

He bent to pick up the next panel.

I grabbed the other side. “I liked you better when you weren't talking.”

“Most people do.”

That was the end of it, which was probably why the conversation stayed with me the whole drive home.

Kaycee pulled into the drive at twelve minutes past six. I knew that because I'd checked the clock at six ten and had just opened the refrigerator for the second time when I heard tires on gravel.

I stepped onto the porch as she parked.

For the first time since I'd met her, she got out of her car without a folder, laptop bag, or stack of records in her hands. She had an overnight bag instead.

I walked down the steps and took the bag from her. “Are you hungry?”

“I've been smelling whatever you've got on the grill since I opened my door.”

“Good. It’s almost ready.”

She smiled and rose up onto her tiptoes to kiss me. Two days wasn't long enough to explain why having her mouth under mine again felt like I'd been waiting a hell of a lot longer.

I kept one hand at her waist when she stepped back. “How was the drive?”

“Fine. My upstairs neighbor survived another day without murdering a drum kit. And I finished the client job, so I'm officially free until Monday.”

Monday… that would give us four nights together if I didn’t fuck it up. I carried her bag inside.

She followed me into the kitchen and stopped next the counter. “Wow. You really can cook.”

My chest swelled a little as I grabbed two bottles of craft beer from the fridge.

Dinner was steaks, potatoes, and corn. Kaycee told me about the client she'd finished while I pulled the meat off the grill, and I told her Beau had nearly worked me to death cleaning up rodeo panels.

She laughed. “Beau Jordan?”

“You know him?”

“I met him for about thirty seconds at the rodeo.”