“It’s not only the time. Going back after… I’d feel weird. And what if something happens with Fudge? And Monty calls when we’re?—”
“Damn. Hadn’t thought of that.” He sighed and brought his chair back flush with the table. “I got carried away. Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Her smile was tender. “Anyway, we really should eat Auntie Ezzie’s homemade tamales.”
He grimaced. “Which are now getting cold.”
“Not that cold.” She took a bite of tamale and hummed with delight.
That sexy hum went straight to his groin, but too bad. He was the boss of his package. “Yeah, Auntie Ezzie knows what she’s doing.”
“She makes them by herself?”
“Oh, no.” He welcomed the G-rated topic. Digging into his food, he began describing the communal tamale effort, a day-long process that resulted in a six-month supply for each of them.
Jordan had all kinds of questions just as she had whenever he’d talked about the ranch or his family five years ago. She might not want to live his life, but she certainly was fascinated by the details of it.
He controlled his temptation to flirt with her. Wasn’t easy, but he needed to hone his just friends role for her benefit. Clearly she didn’t want his family to know what they were up to.
Unfortunately, the Bridger Bunch had a talent for picking up on the slightest cue. They’d be looking, too, now that everybody knew the steamy backstory. But he wouldn’t say any of that to Jordan.
She waited on the patio while he put the plates and utensils in the dishwasher. Grabbing his hat on the way out, he started to close the door. “Want to take a look inside? I’ll stay out here.”
She shook her head. “I don’t want to see any of it, especially your bedroom. I’m too fixated on tonight as it is, without feeding significant details to my very active imagination.”
“Understood. Let’s go check on Fudge.”
“Let’s do.” She started off.
Putting on his hat, he fell into step beside her. “I’m not gonna hold your hand.”
“Didn’t expect you to. Did we ever do that?”
“Come to think of it, no. We were either at the clinic, in your truck or in the motel room.”
“No strolling around town.”
“No, ma’am. I didn’t have strolling on my mind.”
She laughed. “Me, either.”
That said, he wouldn’t mind taking her hand as they walked back to the barn. But that behavior, especially in public, signaled a commitment. Didn’t fit their arrangement.
“It’s reassuring Monty hasn’t called. I didn’t ask about the plan going forward, though. I wonder how much Fudge will need to be monitored.”
“I’m guessing not much. I watched him wrap that bandage and it’s not going anywhere until it’s time to change it in the morning. The way he was talking, it sounds like the best thing we can do for Fudge is leave him alone and let him rest while the abscess drains.”
“I got that, too. Which is why I feel comfortable sending you two back to the festivities.”
“You’d stay here?” He didn’t like that idea at all.
“I think I should, just to keep an eye on him.”
“You’ll miss the laser show and dancing at the Raccoon.”
“Fudge’s well-being is more important.”
“I agree. But if he’s not in critical condition, then?—”
