“Right back atcha, Sweetness. I’d do anything for you.”
He smells like cardamom and clean sweat, and with his arms holding me close, I can’t help but think how lucky I am to have him in my life, even if babies don’t end up working out for me. I should probably follow Norinne’s advice and think about babies tomorrow. “How about we get a midnight snack and fall asleep to an audiobook?”
He releases me and pulls back, holding out his hand. “Probably a good idea. I don’t think you have the focus tonight for what I had planned.” When I take his hand, he winks. “We’ll rain check for tomorrow when you’re not so titillated by turquoise.”
He helps me up, and I rummage through my bag for my phone before scrolling to my audio app. “Okay, your choice,” Isay. “The latest Karen Smirnoff thriller orThe Billionaire CEO’s Secret Amnesia Bride? I think they both sound good.”
Chapter
Eighteen
SHARP AS A MASHED POTATO
Dallas
“Drink your tea,” the duke commanded, his breeches surely so tight they were putting him in quite the mood.
She took a sip, only to nearly gag as fire raced down her throat. “Wh-what is this?” she rasped.
“Whiskey. Perhaps now you will not faint for a fourth time.”
She glanced at her teacup, then took another tentative sip. She found she rather liked the taste of whiskey now that she was properly braced for it. Perhaps this was the missing ingredient from all the boring tea she’d been forced to drink during the season. She giggled out loud, then clapped a gloved hand over her mouth.
“Dad?” Ryder’s voice echoes across my workshop, startling me. I hit pause on the audiobook I’m listening to while I stain the matching coffee tables I’m just about finished with. The morning sun is streaming through the windows and making my work look that much better. I could do without the heavy smell of chemicals coming from the varnish though. “What are you listening to?”
“It’s an audiobook calledThe Duke and His Devilish Desires. I don’t really have time to sit down and read, so I figured this would do.”
Ryder comes over to inspect the tables. Nelly lifts from where he’s been napping to greet my son. “Do what?”
Sighing, I carefully place my brush across the top of the stain can. “I’m trying to understand women.”
Watching Shelby cry the night of her birthday made something in me break. I meant it when I offered to give her children, but I don’t think she understands how I feel about her. She probably thinks I’m still that guy who flirts with every female. I’ve got to come up with a way for her to take me and my feelings seriously before we waste any more time. Her poor ovaries don’t have much left before self-destruction, according to the articles I’ve been reading about perimenopause. Frightening stuff.
I also saw the title of the romance novel Shelby started reading yesterday and instantly downloaded the audio version. I figure if I can understand what she loves about these fictional heroes, I can simply copy what they do. Surely, she’ll fall in love with me if I make a grand gesture like her fictional friends. I pat myself on the back in my head. Look at me go, already using Shelby’s language. Now I just have to figure out what grand gesture to make.
Ryder wrinkles his nose. “It’s not really that hard. Mom says women want to be listened to. Which seems a bit basic. Doesn’t everyone want to be listened to?”
I clap a hand on his shoulder and wonder if now’s the time for another birds and bees lecture. Probably not. I haven’t figured out anything further about women worth imparting.
“I think listening might be just the first step.”
He gags and spins in a circle, mimicking another flip turn. Nelly darts around him, tail wagging. “There’ssteps? Like, how many? Two? Four? A hundred? How many, Dad?”
Oh boy. There he goes, down a rabbit hole lined with questions on a subject I know nothing about. Time to try redirection. “Hey, did I ever tell you about the day I met Shelby?”
Ryder stops moving, and Nelly sits like a good boy. “Weren’t you my age?”
I ruffle his hair. “Just a bit older. Teenagers.” And then I tell him the story, embellishing along the way because why not make the story even funnier? When I get to the end, I have a lightbulb moment. “Hey, buddy. Want to help me out with something?”
“I need a favor,” I say the next day as I stop by the ranch to help out.
Ridge is in a mood, stomping around and scaring all the sick animals. Nelly even took one look at the guy and headed off in the opposite direction. Ridge lifts his head to scowl at me. Hey, at least he didn’t take a swing at me.
“I’m doing this grand gesture thing for Shelby when she gets here to check on the calves. Pops and Frankie are in on it. I’d appreciate it if you just let it happen. Don’t spread your sunshine.”
“What the fuck do you mean by that?” he growls. I don’t miss the way his hands ball up into fists. Damn, he’s not taking Tiff’s absence very well at all.
“The grand gesture thing or the sunshine thing?” I clarify.
