“What happened to you?” I ask, noting that only Wes is covered in mud.
Tripp laughs. “One of the mamas got pissed off when he tried to tag her calf. Nearly trampled him.”
Wes skewers him with a dark look. “You were supposed to keep her distracted.”
He shrugs. “I did what I could.”
“Whatever,” Wes grumbles.
“You two are like an old married couple,” I say, my lips twitching in amusement.
They both snort.
“On that note, I’m out of here. Let me know if you need any help getting settled.” Wes squeezes my shoulder and then bounds down the stairs and out the door, hinges screaming behind him.
I look around the tiny room once more, cataloguing what I need to get done tonight to make the space more habitable, adding even more to my mental to-do list as I spot the mess in the closet. Unpacking will have to wait.
“Did you eat supper yet?” Tripp asks from the doorway.
I shake my head. “Not yet.”
“Come on. I’ll take ya to the diner. You need something in your belly if you’re gonna tackle this room tonight.”
“I don’t know if I can eat,” I admit.
Tripp throws an arm around my shoulder, warm and solid. “Pops is gonna be alright.”
God, I hope he’s right. But if I keep dwelling on it, I’ll spiral. Better to grab onto something lighter. I huff out a beleaguered sigh. “Do they still have those cheese curds?”
His dimples pop with a grin. “Still the best thing on their menu.”
“Alright, I’m in.”
Bambi
Tripp
Excitement has been buzzing through me ever since I saw Quinn, making it nearly impossible to sit still as I hunt for a parking spot in front of the diner. The street’s packed, so I end up parking a block away.
She’s out of the truck before I can reach her door, and I roll my eyes. “Did you forget the rule when you’re riding with me?”
Her brows knit together.
“In my truck, you let me get the door.” I shift her onto the sidewalk, my hand on the small of her back so I’m between her and the road.
She gives me an amused look. “I didn’t realize that rule still applied.”
“Excuse you, that rule always applies.” I nudge her gently toward the diner, a teasing grin tugging at my mouth. “I’m a gentleman.”
I hurry ahead to open the door for her. She gives me a shy smile, tucking a curl behind her ear as she slips into the dim, crowded restaurant.
I still smell like sweat and dirt from a day’s work, but Quinn’s dressed in pink slacks that hug her curves, heels that have my blood heating with every step, and a white blouse that I’m trying really hard not to notice is sheer enough to tease the soft pink of her bra.
“Tripp, sweetheart, I’ll be with you in just a sec,” the owner says in a raspy voice from behind the cash register.
“No worries, Rita.”
A slap on my back has me turning to find Harold—Pops’ partner at cards—staring me down. “Tripp, didn’t expect to see you out tonight. How’s Vern doin’?”
