“So it’s like that,” Lane said.
“The Bailey brothers are all off the market,” Cruz parroted.
There was a ring of truth in what he said. I’d already been off the market for a few years, but because of Madison, I didn’t ever want to go back on it.
Madison
Teller: Let me know when you’re up and we’ll go to lunch.
I stretched in bed. A few hours of sleep on this quality mattress was better than nine hours of crappy sleep on that cot in the bar. I rolled up and pushed my hair back.
We were going to Curly’s, but I craved making bread more than I did eating it. I missed the process of mixing and kneading. When I had my own place, I’d make another sourdough starter. I ought to have enough time to do it at Teller’s, but we were busy all through the day.
The new bathroom partitions were supposed to arrive soon and the cabinets for the bar were due the week after. Once the windows were installed, I could do a soft open, start bringing in money, and refine how the bar would run. I could even make some goodies, like cupcakes, cookies, and my homemade caramels.
No. Flatlanders was a bar. It was known for rough edges and strong drinks. But desserts might distract patrons from noticing the mixed drinks were actually mixed.
I rolled out of bed and took a few extra minutes in the shower. The warm-water-and-high-pressure combo was still a treat. After I was done, I grabbed my jeans and a navy-blue T-shirt. I stepped into the pants but stared at the top while I zipped and buttoned the jeans. I had brought the rest of my clothing. Did I have a better shirt?
We weren’t going on an official date, but I could look like I cared a little more. I’d already braided my hair. Doing anything else would be a big ol’ signal that I had my hopes up for more. I wasn’t ready to show him that I cared. He could do better than me, but I didn’t have to make it more obvious to everyone than it was.
I found a shirt with minimal wrinkles that was cream-colored with a bright sunflower on the front. It was too short to tuck in. To anyone else, it’d be a normal top. To me, it was like wearing a dress. Bright and girly.
I shrugged into the shirt and tugged the hem down, staring at the sunflower. I’d shown it to Damien after I’d bought it.Not really your style, is it?That was all he’d said and I hadn’t worn it. But I also hadn’t given it away.
Downstairs, I found a coffee from Mountain Perks in the fridge with “Mads” written on it. Smiling, I pulled it out and tossed it in the microwave for a minute. I wouldn’t need to make food. More room for Curly’s buns.
How’d he get them so soft? Someday, I’d have the space and time to refine my own recipe.
I took a sip of the warm coffee. I had the house to myself. We’d been coming and going, and in between, we’d been messing around. The chance to snoop hadn’t presented itself. I loved the vibe of the place and wanted to see the rest. Were all the rooms as welcoming and cozy?
Before I poked around, I shot a message off to Teller.I’m awake. Thanks for the coffee.
I took a drink and wandered through the living room. Hands down, this was my favorite spot. The square footage was almost as big as the house I’d grown up in, except for the garage Mom and Dad had converted into an all-seasons rec room so Dad could watch football and drink beer. No girls allowed.
I found the main-level bathroom I’d heard Teller use that first night we’d been together-ish. There were two more doors in the hallway. One must be the office Teller had mentioned.
I opened the door closest to the bathroom and laundry room and poked my head in. Yep. An office. “Nice.”
It could be a bedroom, but the way he’d decorated it was a work of art. Crisp aluminum prints of Copper Summit hung on the walls over a moderate-sized streamlined desk. No large hunk of wood for Teller, which surprised me. This room was like him. Rugged but modern.
A large window took over the longest wall. Copious sunlight streamed in and there was nothing but trees and green grass for a view. So gorgeous. I closed the door and went to the next one.
It was a bedroom, very similar to the guest room I was using. The artwork was softer, canvas prints of the Bailey family ranch with the rolling hills and the tree-filled mountains in the background.
I leaned my head against the doorframe and took another sip of my coffee. Teller loved his home. He loved his job. His family was his priority. Any one of those would be special, but to have all three? I’d never met anyone like him, and if I had, they hadn’t wanted anything to do with me.
The front door opened. I closed the door and beelined for the entry that connected with the mudroom.
“Hey.” Teller wiped his boots off like it was a habit. There was no mud and he hadn’t been working at the ranch. He wore a black polo with the copper logo of the distillery embroidered over his left pec. “I like that shirt.”
Pleasure infused me, sudden but hesitant. “Thank you.” I tensed, preparing for thebut. It never came.
Instead, he crossed to me, wrapped an arm around my waist, and pressed a kiss to my lips. He didn’t take it further, pulling back almost immediately. “I’m not going to be able to drink coffee without your flavor in it anymore.”
“I was snooping.” The confession shot out of me like a bullet. “I know you said you’d give me a tour, but I was curious.”
Humor crinkled the corners of his eyes. “Find anything incriminating?”
