“Oh yeah? How so?” This is the side of Dallas nobody but me gets to see, and I always love it when I get a glimpse.
“I don’t know. Maybe I’m having a midlife crisis or something. I mean, things with Ryder are good—or as good as they can be. It’s easy to second-guess your parenting.”
I nod, swatting at a sweat bee that’s circling my head. “But you’re a fantastic dad.” I mean, this is the guy who installed an indoor swing and bought the best trampoline on the market a millisecond after learning they could help Ryder’s sensory issues. “That kid is lucky.”
“Thanks for that.” Dallas slows his pace when he realizes I’m practically speed walking to keep up. “But sometimes I think about the example I’m setting for him. I pretty much do my own thing and put my own whims ahead of other priorities. I should be helping with the ranch more. Maybe helping Hallie with Ryd more. Hell, maybe taking a chance on a real relationship for once.” He shakes his head as if trying to knock something loose. “I don’t know. I’m probably talking out of my ass.”
No. I’m not letting him dismiss his own uncertainties and emotions. So, I link my arm in his and give it a tug. “Sounds like you’ve got a lot to think over. And you know you’ve always got me to bounce things off of. Just say the word.”
He grins down at me, a warmth in his eyes that fills up something that was half-empty in my chest. “I probably don’t say it enough, but I’m really lucky to have you in my life, Shelby Sweet.”
Right back atcha, big guy. Right back atcha.
Chapter
Twelve
HOT AS A TWO-DOLLAR PISTOL
Dallas
Nelly’s tenth whining fit in as many minutes makes me turn off my sander and flip up my goggles. “I know, buddy. I wish I was skinny dipping in the lake right now too, but duty calls.”
He blinks his doleful eyes and slumps back down to the hardwood floor I laid myself when I built my shop. He’s killing me with that innocent face, but I have to get this project done for my client. I’m already a week late delivering the custom dining room table built from the client’s own oak tree that fell in his backyard. There’s a burnt streak running through it from the lightning that struck it. It’s actually one of the coolest pieces I’ve done. I should be proud of my work, but all I feel right now is exhaustion. Between riding around the ranch and checking calves, my own woodworking, my son, and pretending to be Shelby’s fiancé, I’m beat. Something’s gotta give.
I pull out my phone and call Houston again. It’s noon. He should be up by now, even if he rode last night. Despite my irritation at him deserting the ranch and only rarely coming home for visits, I’m proud of the fucker. He’s made a namefor himself on the rodeo circuit, managing to win a few events on the Rockies circuit and avoid major injury. Rodeo is a bit like gambling, though. He can’t seem to quit until he’s won an overall, which is where the big money’s at.
“You’re, like, obsessed with me,” Houston deadpans by way of greeting.
“Yeah, well, I’m up to my elbows in the backside of an animal more times than I’d like, so I figured I’d share that experience.”
“If that’s your way of trying to get me to come home, you’re doing it wrong.”
I lean back against the table I’m building, swiping the sawdust from the scruff I haven’t had time to shave. “Seriously. I’m not cut out for full-time ranch work. Especially with my woodworking taking off recently.”
“And you think I am?” Houston scoffs. “I’ve got back-to-back rodeos lined up, man. I can’t just pull out of one when they’re using my name for advertising to get butts on bleachers.”
“Not even when it’s a family emergency? They don’t make exceptions for that?” I ask with a bit more heat in my tone. I’m tired of that being his excuse every time we try to get him to come home.
Family before all else.
That’s the credo the Gamble family has always lived by. And Houston is shitting on it.
“You being careful with Shelby?” Houston changes the subject like he always does when he knows I’m mad at him.
“I’m always careful with Shelby,” I grouse. I stand back up and run my hand along the bottom edge of the table. There’s a tiny knot there I need to sand down.
“No, I meanrealcareful. That girl had a thing for you a long time ago. Don’t go play-acting your way into messing with her heart.”
I scoff, nearly choking on my own spit. “She did not!”
Houston’s chuckle is annoying as fuck. “She did. Oh, she was real subtle about it, but I specifically remember catching her staring longingly at you when we were seniors. Be careless with the randos’ hearts, but don’t do that to Shelby. She’s my friend too, you know.”
My knees give way, and I sit my ass down on the old rickety chair I keep in the shop. The wheels fly across the floor, crunching over sawdust. Nelly barks and chases after me, his tail going crazy. “If that’s true, why didn’t you ever say something?”
Houston yawns loudly in my ear, pissing me off even more. “What would have been the point? I knew you didn’t feel that way about her and telling you would have only embarrassed her. Again, Shelby’s my friend too. I didn’t want you breaking her heart.”
There’s a commotion on his end of the phone. “Man, I gotta go. Someone’s always gettin’ in a fight.” With a click, he’s gone.
