It’s a masterpiece.
“You’ve got mail,” I say, setting the mug beside her.
She looks up, sees the note on top of the coffee cup and smiles.
“You know, I really missed these,” she says, fingers brushing the corner of the Post-it. “I think this is by far my favorite one, though.”
“Yeah?” I reach into my back pocket. “I think this note’s better.”
I set the form on the desk, and she unfolds it, her expression shifting. Her eyes flick back and forth from me to the paper. “Duke … you signed it?”
I take a sip of coffee. “Yes. I trust you’ll tell my part of the story the way it needs to be told, and as long as you protect Stedman, I’m good with it.”
I swear her eyes get a little misty when she stands and comes to me. “Thank you. This is only going to help the ranch.”
“I didn’t do it for Firebird. I did it for you.”
She plants a soft kiss on my lips and circles back to the desk. “What’s the plan for the rest of the day?”
“Need to check in with Rusty and Topper and catch up on some things since I was gone, but there’s a cookout tonight.”
“Can’t wait.”
I kiss her goodbye, load Jameson in the golf cart, and head to the main lodge where Rusty said he and Topper would be after they finish with a new hire who will be helping as a ranch hand this fall.
The drive to the main lodge isn’t long, but today it feels endless. Maybe because I can’t shut my head up.
Roxanne only has a week left.
Seven days of mornings and coffee, seven nights of falling asleep with her beside me.
It’s not enough.
I thought I could let her go when summer ended. I can’t. Iwant the middle-of-the-days, the little fights about the dishwasher, the smell of her perfume in my house forever. Hell, I’ll follow her to New York if I have to. I’ll sit in the back of the room while she makes her pitch, but I’m not letting her walk away without a fight. Plus, the damn turkey is not going to be the same if she leaves forever.
Thankfully, the new hire is already gone by the time I storm into the conference room while Rusty and Topper finish chatting.
“Stop what you’re doing, we have a situation,” I say, bursting in through the glass doors.
“How about‘Good morning, stop what you’re doing, we have a situation’?” Topper says, glancing up from his paperwork.
“What’s got your feathers in a ruffle now?” Rusty asks.
“Don’t say you’re in love,” Topper says.
“I’m in love,” I reply, finally taking a seat.
“What did I just say?” Topper says.
I know he’s razzing me, but I don’t have time for games. “I love her. Mercy mild, I love her. What am I going to do? Do I … I … con her into marrying me? Lock her in a tower? Chain her to the bed so she can’t leave?”
“Hmmm.” Topper narrows his eyes and rubs his chin. “Since you’re not a medieval dungeon master, no. How about starting with a more modern approach like having a conversation with her?”
“No good,” I say, pulling out a chair.
Topper tents his eyebrows. “No good?”
“She might be fond of our boy here, but she’s not fond of Colorado,” Rusty adds.
