“It was just …”
“Hey!” I held my hands up in surrender. “I’m not judging. If you want to read mommy porn then more power to you. Just let me know which bits tickle your fancy. Maybe we could recreate a scene or two?”
“We’re not discussing this,” Grace declared embarrassed.
“Oh, we are.”
“No, Cole. We’re not. What are you doing here anyway?”
Grace was adorable. Sitting in the barn reading porn to the poddy calf. Dressed like that, she almost looked like she belonged. With her jeans, tennis shoes, and one of my button-down shirts that she’d knotted at her hip, the girl could easily pass as a farmer. Or maybe even a farmer’s wife.
All day as I’d worked my mind had been elsewhere, and I knew it. Ben’s call was on replay. He didn’t say much. I think he was surprised when I answered, but it was what he didn’t say that had me worried. He was calling Grace for a reason, and I wasn’t entirely convinced it would do her any good to hear it. Then when I found out he’d been messaging and calling her, my fury bubbled.
I didn't know what he wanted, but in the pit of my gut, I knew I could lose her. She could choose him. And as much as I wanted her to stay, she needed to be happy. If that meant returning to the city and working for some asshole who didn’t appreciate her or didn’t understand what he had, then I’d suck it up, kiss her goodbye, and wish her the best. I’d deal with my pain later. Grace was what mattered. What she wanted, where she was happy, that’s all I wanted for her. I was still trying to figure out away that she could be here with me, but I didn’t have the puzzle solved. Not yet anyway.
“I went to the house looking for you, but you weren’t there,” I told her.
“No. I thought I’d hang out with Daisy.”
“Daisy?”
“She needed a name.” Grace shrugged as she reached over the gate and let the calf nuzzle against her hand.
“And you chose Daisy?”
Grace spun around to face me, folding her arms under her boobs, propping them up and distracting me. If only one more button was undone …
“What would you have chosen then, huh?”
“I dunno. I don’t usually name my cows.”
“Well, that’s just sad. Cows need a name too.”
“Fine. What about prime rib or maybe brisket?” I suggested, watching as shock transformed Grace’s face.
“Brisket? Really? You’d call this sweet little girl, brisket?” Grace was stunned and it was the cutest thing ever. She knew I was a farmer and did farmer things as she liked to put it, but suggest naming a cow brisket and she was losing her mind.
“Well, I wouldn’t name her.”
“Daisy loves her name,” Grace declared with an adorable stomp of her foot.
“Then Daisy it is.”
“I think it suits her,” Grace told me as we both leaned on the gate and looked down at her. I had a feeling this poddy calf could be the answer I was looking for. Or at least part of it.
“I need to head into town to pick up some supplies. Feel like a drive?” I invited.
“Sounds good. Do we have time to stop by the house first?”
“Sure.”
“Let’s do it then. I just need to grab my purse.”
“What do you need that for?” I asked.
“Because if we’re going into town then I want a brownie from the Clever Cookie,” Grace told me.
Together we walked out of the barn, hand in hand. It felt oddly familiar and right. Like it was something we should do every day. “You should really look at buying shares in that business. Half the town raves over the brownies.”
