Kayleigh would never leave without her cat. Relief instantly uncoils the tension in my shoulders.
“He really likes you.”
I snap my head up to the sight of Kaylee in another one of my T-shirts—an old Garth Brooks concert one—and bare legs. Her feet are covered in Christmas-themed fuzzy socks that stretch up a couple of inches above her ankles, and I let my gaze drag up.
“I’m not wearing any panties,” she says, flashing me proof. “You just seem to steal them all anyway.”
“I’m not fucking you.”
She shrugs. “So you say.”
“You hungry?”
“What did you have in mind? There’s aren’t any Christmas cookies left. I shared them with your ranch hands. Thought I’d make a better impression with everyone if I showed up bearing gifts.”
“I’ll take you tomorrow,” I promise.
“What?”
“To town. To get presents for your family. I’ll take you tomorrow.”
Do I have fucking time to shop? No, not even five minutes to spare considering I spent all day handling my idiot son and cleaning up his mess. Kayleigh won’t know until after she’s on the plane Christmas Eve, but her tuition is paid in full. The money she’ll be paid from the auction is hers to keep.
Adam won’t be stealing another dime from her.
“Why?”
“Don’t you need gifts?”
“Yes, but?—”
“Try saying thank you.”
Kayleigh meets me when I stand, using those soft palms to help me out of my flannel coat. “It feels a little foreign to say, but I’ll try it on for size.” She hooks my coat on the hanger. I try not to notice the way my shirt rides up her body when she lifts on tiptoes to reach the hook, but dammit, I’m only a man. “Thank you, Elliot.”
She follows me to the kitchen as I pull out the ingredients to make us a couple of BLTs.
“I haven’t had one of these since my mom…”
“You miss her?”
“Yeah. Christmas was one of her favorite times.”
“You only have one sister?” I ask, trying like hell not to sound like I care too much. Or like I might have done a little bit of research on the future Dr. Kayleigh Kingston so I wouldn’t be so blindsided the next time she shared a simple detail of her life with me.
“Alida.” She takes a bite of the BLT I prepared for her, and I try not to watch the tomato juice run down her chin. Okay, so I don’t try that hard.
She dabs it away with a napkin, and fuck if I’m not jealous of that stupid square piece of paper.
“You’re close?”
“Very.” She takes another bite, and this time when the tomato juice dribbles down, it makes a fast track down her neck. I catch it with a napkin, and Kayleigh stares at me, licking her lips.
I’m reminded she’s not wearing any panties.
And what I’m really hungry for is not a BLT.
It’s her.
