Madison laughs and shakes her head. “Mom says you don’t know the difference between a mustang and a mare.” Suddenly Madison’s body is attacked by a fit of giggles.
Her laughter is almost enough to break through my mood. Almost.
“She said you think a mustang is a car,” she gasps out. With that, she skips toward the trailer, and I crack a smile despite myself. But it fades fast, and five minutes later, I’m kicking off my boots and padding into a kitchen that smells of roast chicken,herbs, and Mama’s gravy. She’s at the stove, humming softly to herself, wearing her usual oversized red Stormhawks jersey. Harper is setting the table, laughing with Mama over something I don’t catch.
Buck jumps out of his bed in the corner to greet me, pushing his head into my hands, tail thumping as I stroke him. “Hey, Buck.” I crouch and run my hands over his yellow fur. “It’s good to see you, too.” Buck might be Jake’s dog, but he spent plenty of nights keeping me company when the Stormhawks were playing and I was stuck at home with an ice pack on my knee. “You staying here next week?”
Harper replies for him. “You don’t mind? I can keep him with me in the city, but we both know he’d rather be here.”
I scratch Buck’s ear and he tilts his head, leaning into my touch. “Be good to have the company.”
“So… you been working today?” Harper asks with a little hesitation. I don’t miss the way Mama pauses her stirring from across the kitchen to listen.
I nod. “Had to show up sometime,” I say, heading for the door before another question comes my way.
In the shower, I let the hot water beat down on my aching body, cleaning off the dirt and sweat of the day and wishing it was as easy to wash away the failure that feels like it’s clinging to my skin. I shove my head under the spray of water and my thoughts pull back to Izzy, to the fire in her eyes this morning during our fight. How the tension felt like it could snap at any moment.
My thoughts drag to the kiss in The Hay Barn. The press of her body against mine. Her tongue exploring my mouth. Her hands on my body. Heat coils low in my gut, and suddenly my dick is hardening. I grab it in my hand, letting images of Izzy play through my head. My release comes fast, leaving mebreathing heavily against the shower wall as the water beats down on me.What was that about?
I turn off the shower, dry fast, and throw on fresh jeans and a clean tee, willing thoughts of Izzy away as I head downstairs. But when I walk into the kitchen, she’s the first thing I see. She and Madison are standing at the counter with Mama, who’s showing Madison how to stir a pot of gravy. Madison is wearing a pink tee with a horse on the front, but it’s Izzy my eyes are drawn to. She’s wearing a simple black sundress that stops mid-thigh, showing her tanned legs and sandaled feet. Her hair is loose like the first time I saw her, falling in waves down her back. Something about the look, after seeing her in work boots and denim for the past week, catches me off guard.
She sees me staring and there’s the same spark of defiance and challenge in her expression she’s had since we met, like maybe she knows exactly what I was thinking about in the shower. I glance away, addingpervto the growing list of reasons I’m failing at life right now.
At least this look is better than the one where she knows I’m in way over my head with this ranch. That one makes me want to walk right out the back door, climb in my truck, and drive the hell out of here for good.
NINE
IZZY
“If you get tired of the grumpiness, I’ve got a spare room in the city with your name on it,” Chase says with a wink so exaggerated it feels like it should come with a health warning. The man’s magnetic, with that shaved head and the mischievous spark in his dark brown eyes. I can already see he’s the kind of person who lights up a room just by walking into it. Just as I can see his outrageous flirting is more about annoying Dylan than it is about me.
I laugh, happy to play along. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Is that the spare room where you and JT store your football equipment?” Jake asks from across the table, mentioning the Stormhawks kicker Chase moved in with when he came back to Denver. “That room is a biohazard.” Jake has one arm slung casually around Harper’s shoulders, the pair of them practically glowing. His dark hair is longer than Dylan’s, curling slightly at the ends and pushed away from his face, and his smile is broad and easy, which I guess has a lot to do with the rock sparkling on Harper’s delicate finger.
“And yet it’s still nicer than being around Dylan’s grumpy ass.” Chase laughs.
Dylan barely grunts in response as he takes a sip of water. He’s like a storm cloud in the middle of all this sunshine. And yeah, I think Dylan is a massive jerk with a serious attitude problem, but even I can see it can’t be easy having your brothers still playing NFL football when you’re not.
Across the table, Dylan shifts in his seat and reaches for the bowl of potatoes. He looks around the table, pausing when he sees Madison’s near-empty plate. Without a word, he spoons the last two onto her plate.
“Thank you, Dylan,” she says, stabbing one of the potatoes with her fork and popping it straight into her mouth.
It’s a small gesture, but I’m surprised he noticed or cares enough to make sure Mad has enough to eat. I force my eyes away before he catches me staring. Dylan is as closed off with his family as he’s been with me. If there’s anything else beneath that scowl, it’s buried deep.
Madison’s fork clinks against her plate as she sets it down and leans back, rubbing her belly with both hands. “Why are you all so big?” she asks, staring from one Sullivan brother to the next.
“Mad,” I hiss as the table erupts in laughter, the kind that’s impossible not to join in with.
“What?” Madison asks, her face the picture of innocence. “I really wanna know.”
Mama reaches to pat Madison’s hand with a conspiratorial smile. “You ask whatever questions you like at this table, Miss Madison. The answer might have something to do with my boys always eating a second helping of vegetables,” she says with a wink to me before pushing the bowl of roasted carrots and green beans toward my daughter.
With a gleeful smile usually reserved for ice cream, Mad scoops two heaping spoonfuls of vegetables onto her plate and starts eating.
I shake my head in disbelief, hiding my own laughter as well as the yawn threatening. Caring for the horses while making sure Madison has my full attention has been exhausting, and I still have a pile of clothes to handwash in the sink of the trailer after dinner. I really need to get my washing machine fixed.
The conversation flows easily around the table as Mad munches on her vegetables. Harper lights up as she talks about dividing her time between working on features atSports Magazineand writing a book about vampires that’s being published next year, her voice animated as she describes the process. Jake looks like he’s about to burst with pride as she speaks, and I like them both already.
