Page 75

“What can you do to fix that?”

She tilted her head. “That’s a great question, and one that I’m working on. I don’t want to move back, and they don’t travel well.”

“Maybe when you have this podcast season wrapped, you plan a visit.”

She’d like that. Now that Matt was older, travel was easier than when she’d flown by herself with a baby and then a toddler. “Good idea. If I ever find a place that I know I won’t move from, I’ll move them close to me. We’ve all agreed it’s a great idea. We just don’t know the timing and the location. What about you? What would you hammer out?”

“Kitchen duties. Or the lack of them, because I like to cook, and I’m a firm believer in the kitchen ABCs.” At her questioning look, he added, “ABC: Always be cleaning.”

“Ah.”

“But,” he chortled, “I’ve been known to let the dishes sit in my sink overnight.”

“Oh, the horror.”

He laughed along with her as they reached the end of the trail. They could walk to the parking lot or loop back and reverse the trail.

“Are you ready to go?” she asked.

Matt flung his head back. “I’m so tired.”

“Guess that’s a yes.” Wes led them toward the parking lot.

At the side of Wes’s truck, Matt strayed from her side. “We get to ride in there?”

“Yup. Unless you want to run after us.”

“No,” Matt giggled.

Wes turned to Bailey. “I could drive slowly? Or he could hitchhike?”

She and Matt laughed.

“All right. No hitchhiking today.” Wes opened the door.

Matt scrambled in and squealed. Instead of sliding his arms into the straps, he yanked Oink into his arms. “You got me a stuffie bigger than me.”

Bailey’s heart just stopped. Wes had pulled Oink the goat out of the covered truck bed and propped it next to Matt’s seat. She was speechless.

“Your mom won it for you,” Wes said, like Bailey was the most interesting person he’d ever met. “She threw a ring over her head and won it.”

“Thank you!”

Bailey pressed her hand to her throat, choked up over a stuffed goat named Oink and the man who understood why it mattered. She gave Wes a grateful look. “Thanks.”

If there was any chance that she wasn’t going to fall headfirst for Wes Wilder, that ship had sailed. She didn’t know how to protect her heart if this didn’t work out, but watching Wes watch her and Matt made the guilt of choosing time with both of them fade.

The next morning, Bailey awoke to the smell of coffee. She checked the time. It was before even Matt woke up. She quickly pulled on her pajama pants and padded barefoot into the kitchen. Wes sat at her kitchen table, sleep-rumpled hair, black coffee in one hand, and a novel in the other. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen anything sexier.

“You’re up early,” she said. “How was the guest bedroom?”

“Comfortable, but lonely.” He winked. “When does Matt usually wake up?”

Her bed had been lonely too. She’d thought about sneaking across the hall, but decided it was too risky, too irresponsible. Falling asleep had been hard. “Six-thirty, seven o’clock.”

He closed the book and pulled her into his lap. She slapped a hand over her mouth and giggled, then moved her palm to the scruff of his jaw as it grazed her cheek. His lips found hers.

He inched away, whispering against her lips, “Morning, baby.”