—C
I stared at the loop of her initial longer than any sane person would. My mom had picked her up and Charlotte had gone willingly.Of course.
My mother adored her and Charlotte clearly gravitated toward people who loved loudly and easily. Claira Shepard absolutely did that, regardless of what some people might’ve thought after all that nastiness with Sadie before she and Jameson had made it official.
Back then, evenI’deventually started thinking about my mother as a shallow, pushy socialite who was completely out of touch. Buckling under pressure from my dad, she’d agreed to cut my sister off and had tried to push her into marrying a complete dick.
In my parents’ defense, Sadie’s spending had gotten way out control, not just generous but ruinous. If they hadn’t done anything and she’d gained access to all her trust funds, she would’ve burned through everything she had within a few years.
Mom, Sadie, and I had since made up. Dad was happy with her marriage to Jameson, but I knew he was still worried.
As for Charlotte, I folded the note once, then again, and then slid it into my pocket before I could think too hard about why.
Work. I need work.
I made the rounds, checking water lines, feed levels, the southern fence, and the equipment shed. Routine usually centered me, but today, every damn task put her right back in my head.
But mostly, I got stuck on that one thought.
Me being too stupid and too slow to cross the hall.My jaw clenched.
I wasn’t like this. I’d always been a man of control. No vices. No slips. I didn’t chase highs or impulses. That discipline had helped me build the ranch into something real. It’d kept my life clean, predictable, and safe after that whole mess with Savannah, but it’d also kept me alone.
I’d never even made a list of what I wanted in a relationship. That chapter with my ex had closed so hard, it’d sealed the door shut on romance for me and I’d never opened it again, but even the ghost of Savannah didn’t stand a chance against thoughts of Charlotte today.
Every time her face flashed in my mind, it pushed the old hurt further and further away until there was nothing left but her. Trying to fight it was starting to feel like a losing battle.
By midday, my agitation was so obvious that Colby flagged me down near the barn. “Boss, you’re stomping around like a bull with a burr in its butt. Take a breather before you snap a fence post in half.”
I gripped the handle of the gate beside me and felt the metal dig into my palm. He wasn’t wrong.
“Yeah,” I muttered. “I hear you.”
But taking a breather wouldn’t fix the problem. Because the fucking problem was living in my house, sleeping in a room right across the hall from mine, and for now, there wasn’t a dang thing I could do to change it.
CHAPTER 19
CHARLOTTE
Claira Shepard insisted on making the breakfast she’d invited me to herself. All I had to do was sit there while she fluttered around her kitchen like the physical embodiment of sunshine, her big hair and bigger pearls glowing gold in the early morning light streaming in through the kitchen windows.
“Are you sure I can’t help?” I offered for the umpteenth time, my fingers wrapped around a cup of the most divine coffee. “I’m not completely useless behind a stove. Although my brothers always complain that my pancakes are too salty.”
She laughed but shook her head. “I’ll be done in two shakes. Before you leave, I’ll give youmypancake recipe. It’s completely foolproof, but you might have to be prepared to make it every day. Your brothers will keep begging.”
“That doesn’t sound too bad.”
She shot me a glance over her shoulder, but the next moment, breakfast was ready and I was treated to enough food for a family of six. Biscuits, honey butter, bacon so crisp it snapped, and grits so creamy I was pretty sure they violated several laws of physics.
“This looks amazing,” I said honestly as she put the plate down in front of me. “Wow. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, sugar.” She smiled and lowered herself into a seat across from mine at their kitchen table, her plate not piled nearly as high. “Make sure you have all those biscuits. You’re just a wisp of a thing. Trent has been working you too hard, hasn’t he?”
I chuckled into my coffee. “He hasn’t even made me pick up a shovel just yet.”
“Yet,” she echoed knowingly, smiling behind her mug like she had decades of Shepard-family secrets stored between her dimples. “It’s only a matter of time. Well, dig in, darlin’. It’s not going to eat itself.”
As soon as I set the coffee down and picked up my cutlery, she shot me an approving smile, then proceeded to mostly watch me eat while she drank coffee, chatted, and picked at her food like a baby bird.
