3
Something was burning.
Cord threw himself out of bed and was halfway down the stairs before he realized it was the scent of bacon grease.
Someone was cooking breakfast.
Molly's head popped through the kitchen doorway. "Good morning—"
Her words cut off at the same time that he realized he was wearing only a pair of basketball shorts.
Her gaze bounced off his bare chest. "I woke you up. Sorry."
He cleared his throat. "I'll just…" He hitched one thumb over his shoulder.
She ducked back into the kitchen, but not before he saw her gaze flick back to him.
He returned to his room to pull on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. He was buzzing with awareness. He'd felt that glance like a touch.
He had to get her out of here. Not only was she way too young for him, but it was obvious she was in trouble. Somebody skittish like she was needed more than he had left to give.
He glared at the clock before he stomped down the stairs. He'd gotten soft in his time away from the ranch. On a job site, you showed up at six-thirty or seven. Not oh-dark-thirty.
He was still squinty-eyed when he walked into the kitchen. Ice was pelting the kitchen window. It was not gonna be fun pitching hay for the cattle this morning.
He went straight to the coffeemaker even as his taste buds perked up.
He eyed the stove from his peripheral vision as he filled his mug.
She'd scrambled eggs, too, in addition to the bacon. And was rolling everything into... tortillas?
"I thought I'd make breakfast as a thank-you for letting me stay the night."
A nice gesture, but he wasn't changing his mind. She was out of here today.
He grunted, sipping his coffee. He swallowed the scalding liquid. "What's in this?"
She glanced up from the plate she was filling next to the stove. "Oh, I added a little cinnamon to the grounds. Like it?"
"No." He was a black coffee kind of guy. Why mess with a good thing?
"I also fed the dog for you."
Geez Louise. She was way too chipper this early in the morning.
"Are you going to sit?" She motioned to the table, which was conspicuously clean of all the clutter that'd been present last night. The pile of papers Mackie'd left him to deal with.
"What'd you do with my stuff?"
"I moved it to the living room so you could eat in here. I kept everything organized, don't worry. I'll put it back after I do the dishes."
She gave him a winning smile.
Not buying it.
"You aren't staying," he said.
One side of her smile faltered. It was a minuscule movement, but he caught it. He'd guessed her game.
