“All of it.”
“I’m recreating the day we met. It’s some romantic crap that Shelby loves, so I’d appreciate it if you’d keep your bad mood far away from my grand gesture.”
His top lip curls up. “No problem.” And then he stalks away.
“You know, you should get your hormones checked. You might be in perimenopause!” I call after him, remembering what I read about mood swings.
He raises his right arm in the air and flips me off. A few moments later, I hear the front door to the house slam shut.
I shake my head at his foul mood and pull out a walkie-talkie from the set that I gave both Pops and Ryder. I’ll have to deal with Ridge later. Stepping out of the paddock, I only have to wait a few minutes until I see Shelby’s blue heap of metal turn into the drive. I press the button on the side of the walkie-talkie.
“Standby, good men. The eagle is almost in the nest.”
The thing squawks in my hand before Ryder’s excited voice rings out. “Wait. An eagle? Can I come see?”
Pops saves me from his own walkie-talkie in the house. “The eagle is Shelby, son.”
It squawks again. “Why didn’t you just say Shelby?”
I grin, wishing Ryder was right by my side instead of back behind the barn so I could rough him up in a bear hug. God, I love his brain. Shelby’s car finally comes to a halt, a dust cloud fanning out behind her. I press the side button again. “Okay, Ryd. Let her loose!”
Shelby steps out of the truck and slams the door shut. I hide the walkie-talkie in my back pocket. “What are you doing here? I thought you were delivering the end tables?”
I walk toward her, grinning like a fool. Damn, she’s pretty. Tight blue jeans, a cotton work shirt, and coppery hair tied up on top of her head. Something about a smart, capable woman really revs my engine. Especially now that I know what it takes to get her to drop her toughness and moan my name.
“Hey, Sweetness. Imagine seeing you here.”
She tilts her head like she’s trying to figure me out. And then her gaze skates over my left shoulder. I hear hooves digging into the dirt. Shelby points, and I turn to see our old milking cow, Clara, leaving the barn like she’s breaking out of prison. I whistle, and Clara’s eyes widen.
“Well, shit. One got loose,” I say loudly.
Shelby spares me a single bewildered look, and then she takes off after Clara, already crooning at her with that voice that makes animals and men alike melt at her feet. Clara slows, then turns in Shelby’s direction, wanting to bask in her attention. I follow, my plan unfolding perfectly. I wait to play my part until Shelby gets her hands on Clara’s head to give her a good scratch.
“Did you steal my cow?” I ask, real innocent like. If I had to choose a new career, I’d have to say acting would be a good one for me.
Shelby looks at me like I’ve suffered a stroke. “I’m sorry, what?”
I point to her, pushing back a full-on grin. “Did you steal my cow?” I lean in and whisper as loudly as I can. “Now you’re supposed to deny it. Remember?”
Shelby’s fist plants itself on her hip. “Have you lost your mind?”
“I have not! This cow was just running down the street!” I declare. Okay, fine. We’re switching roles. I can run with that.
Shelby’s mouth flops open, then snaps shut.
I soldier on. “Well, I thank you for catching her for me.” I hold out my hand. “Dallas Gamble.”
Shelby lets go of the cow and takes my hand with all the reluctance she showed me the first time we met. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing. Mind filling me in?”
I flash her my flirtiest smile. When her cheeks take on a pink glow, I know I still got it, even after all these years. My stage whisper is unnecessary because no one else is around to overhear us getting off script. “I’m recreating the day we met, Sweetness. It’s what you call a grand gesture.”
Shelby guffaws. “I know what a grand gesture is, Dally.”
“Then play along!” I let go of her hand to redirect our attention to the cow that we need to put in the trailer I already placed in the driveway, but Clara’s gone. “Oh, shit.”
Shelby’s gasp rings out as we both turn to see her chewing up Pops’s flowerbed in front of the house. I run over there as fast as I can, knowing Pops will kill me if Clara ruins the flowers. He’s been tending these flowerbeds in Momma’s absence for years now.
The walkie-talkie screeches from my back pocket. “I’ve gotta pee. Can I leave the barn now?”
