Shoot.I promised to call him last night, didn’t I? Staying here means I need to really get on track of talking to him. We’re too close; he’ll have separation anxiety otherwise. The way I’ve been ignoring him… I need to be better.
In an attempt to return his call, I’m met with the lovely sound of his voicemail. Leaving him an apology, I sent him a text with praying and crying emojis right after, hoping he’ll forgive me. When he calls back, I’ll apologize a thousand times over.
I still need to try that pie and tell him what I think. That’ll be for later. Right now, pancakes are the only thing on my mind. Well,almostonly. Cyrus has made himself a space in the corner there, all for himself.
Finding all the ingredients I need, I can’t stop the smile that spreads across my face as I cook.
Already imagining him coming inside, exhausted from the day, just to wrap himself around me has me getting all giddy.
So, this is what love really is, huh? Cloud nine really is soft and fluffy.
Making more than I probably should, I’ve got a plate stacked high when the sound of the front door opening echoes in the distance. Wondering how I should greet him after everything that happened the night before, I bit my bottom lip out of eagerness.
Spinning on my heel, expecting my favorite cowboy to be standing there all sweaty and sexy, I’m met with someone the literal opposite.
No.NotCyrus. Not atall.
“D-Dad?” Sputtering, I step back against the oven and barely avoid burning myself. Yanking back, I’m sure I look absolutely mortified. And that’s before I realize my current state of dress.
Oh. My. God.
I can’t even figure out how to ask him what he’s doing here. Especially when the smile that came to greet me suddenly disappears on his face. It doesn’t take a genius to look at me and figure out what is going on. He’s come to surprise me, but I think I’ve beaten him to the punch.
“Wait.” Sputtering the word, I fumble with the knobs of the stove. “I made breakfast. I’m so glad you’re here. Let’s eat and chat. I actually have something I need to tell you and—”
When I turn back, my dad is no longer standing there.
He’s either going to get upset, hop back in his car and drive all the way back home, or he’s going to…
Oh no.
I’m running out of the kitchen without thinking twice. Not bothering to change or even throw on shoes, I’m leaving the home in hopes of avoiding a big misunderstanding.
Seeing Dad already approaching the barn, I know it’s going to be ahugeone.
“Dad!” Calling after him, I run across gravel. Should’ve grabbed shoes. The grass is more forgiving, more than I probably deserve.
The barn’s empty, thank goodness. Having no need to yell at the cows, I’m given the chance to catch up.
It’s the strangest thing, really. I’ve never seen him mad before. Maybe a little grumpy if it rains, or if something doesn’tgo his way, but I’ve never seen such a frown engraved on his face before. Not like this.
He’s red in the face, like a bull ready to pummel the fool who shakes the red cloth. If he were smaller, I wouldn’t worry much. Unfortunately, they’re about the same size.
“I just want to talk to him.” Dad keeps his voice calm and steady, but boy, his tone gives the truth away. “Where is he?”
Instead of answering him, I distract him with a question of my own. “What are you doing here? You shouldn’t be here. I mean, I’m glad to see you, but—”
“You don’t call, insisting on stressing me to death.” Flexing his jaw, he jerks his chin like he can’t look at me. Instead, he searches the pasture for movement. “Thought you might’ve gotten hurt or something, but didn’t want to tell me.” He laughs. “Fuck, Millie. What have I done?” He shakes his head and continues, horrifying me with his next words. “I sent you here, to a place I thought was safe.”
“Safe?” Sputtering at the implication that Cyrus is dangerous, or that he’s even bad at all, has me feeling heat rising. Maybe we share a similar rage. “Cyrus is—”
Dad’s moving again, this time in a straight line. When I follow his gaze, not only do I see Cyrus on his horse, but I see the horrified expression on his face.
Yeah, this is going downhill really fast. I need to get control now before someone ends up hurt. Caring about both men, I don’t want to see any of them in pain. Plus, with how long their friendship has lasted, I don’t want to be the cause of it falling apart.
My heart slams against my ribs as Cyrus guides his horse toward the fence line, his eyes darting from my father’s thunderous expression to my panicked, barely dressed state. He dismounts smoothly, his usual easy grace replaced by a coiledtension. Dipping between the gaps of the fence, he tries to act normal as he approaches.
“Jerry,” he says, his voice more nervous than I’ve ever heard. ”Didn’t know you were stopping by.” He glances my way as a silent question, and my shrug confirms that I didn’t have a freaking clue.
