Page 45 of September’s Cowboy Travis

“About?”

I ran my hand slowly along her back. “This.”

Her mouth curved against my chest. “Good thinking or bad thinking?”

“Good.”

She settled closer, one hand resting over my ribs. “Then you can keep doing it.”

I smiled and kissed the top of her head.

Later, Kaycee disappeared into the bathroom while I picked our clothes off the floor. When I went in after her, she was standing at the sink brushing her teeth.

When she was done, she set her toothbrush in the holder beside mine.

I stopped in the doorway.

Kaycee caught my reflection in the mirror. “It's a toothbrush, Cole.”

“I know what it is.”

“Then why do you look suspicious of it?”

I folded my arms. “Just making sure you're planning to use it again.”

She rinsed her mouth, then turned. “Thursday.”

“What?”

“That's when I'm coming back.”

I looked at the two toothbrushes sitting side by side. Then I reached for her. This time, when Kaycee told me she'd be back, I believed her.

CHAPTER 10

KAYCEE

The first time Travis stole half my sandwich, I blamed poor planning. The third time, I started making two.

I was halfway through a client file at his kitchen table when the back door opened and Travis came in with dust on his jeans and sweat darkening the collar of his T-shirt. A pair of work gloves stuck out of his back pocket. He crossed to the refrigerator and opened it, looking inside like something new might have appeared since breakfast.

“Your lunch is on the counter,” I said without looking up from my screen.

“That’s for me?”

“No. I made an extra sandwich for Bandit.”

He shut the refrigerator and picked up the plate. “He doesn’t deserve it.”

“You're welcome.”

He leaned down and kissed the top of my head before taking the chair across from me. I kept reading, although the paragraph on the screen suddenly required more concentration.

Three weeks ago, I'd needed directions to find his ranch. Now I knew which cabinet held the coffee and where he kept the extra phone chargers. I knew the drawer beside the stove stuck unless I lifted it slightly before pulling. My favorite coffee creamer had taken up permanent space in his refrigerator, and the bathroom upstairs contained enough of my stuff that packing to come to Mustang Mountain meant grabbing a few changes of clothing.

None of it had required a discussion.

I still had my apartment. I still spent several days a week there when work made more sense from Bozeman, and Travis had never suggested I should give that up. We’d just gotten better at looking at our schedules and deciding where we wanted to be.