Cord looks across at me. “They do work, I promise. This time of year is?—”
“Crazy, I know.”
He grins, taking a well-worn track that heads away from the yard. “I was going to say hectic.”
“Aren’t you used to it if you’ve been hosting the event for so many years?”
Cord doesn’t answer my question. His hand slides from the gear shift to my knee, squeezing gently. “I’ve wanted to take you out to see the land since that night on Winnie’s doorstep. Hell, that feels like an age ago.”
“It does. And I need to call her.”
Guilt swamps me. I’ve been so wrapped up in Winnie’s brother that keeping in contact has slipped by me. Suddenly the mini family unit we had together—me, Winnie and Sally—it’s not there. I chew my lip.
“You’re fine, babe. She’ll get it.” Cord sends me a lazy grin.
“How come you get to be so easygoing?” I grumble, berating myself for not having texted my best friend since the first day I’ve shacked up with her brother. Thoughshacked upisn’t technically the right term because we haven’t done anything beyond kissing.
Yet.
The waking hours spent waiting for Cord to appear each afternoon, knowing he won’t, has developed into a constant burn. Each painful hour hiding beneath my new version of everyday life at Coyote Falls only makes it worse.
As if reading my thoughts, Cord slides his hand along my leg, his thumb brushing the inside of my thigh.
My lungs forget how to work for a handful of precious seconds.
Not that Cord notices. His attention is fixed on the twin wheel ruts that disappear into the thick gold grasses speckled with wildflowers that rise on either side of his truck as we head toward the tree line.
“I’m sorry we haven’t had a lot of time together this week,” he says in a low voice. “And I want to promise you that it’ll get better, but…”
“You have a rodeo to plan. Is this what everyday life is like here?” I ask, my curiosity taking over.
“Will you stay if I say yes?”
I smile. “I understand, Cord. If I get data from your wolves, you probably won’t see me until I’ve got it all sorted. That could be…weeks. I might officially be Treetop Girl or wherever I’ve camped out by then.”
“I’ll have Levi deliver you platters of nutritious snacks,” Cord says solemnly, though the corners of his lips tip up.
His life passes by in acres of stunning landscapes as I stare out the window. “Who knew a rancher stuck in one place permanently would be the man who…gets it,” I mutter, fixating on the zenith of a mountain that’s so far out I can barely define which edges belong to it.
His fingers massage slow circles on the inside of my thigh, an absent gesture, but somehow I know it’s not. Nothing with Cordell Rand isabsent, except sometimes himself.
“We’re perfectly matched—two workaholics who never see each other, except for when we choose to socialize at mealtimes. Congratulations on that. I never thought I would see that table full of people.”
“You don’t mind?” I squeeze my knees together, trapping his hand in the middle. “I’ve been wondering ever since that first night, inviting people into your home without checking with youfirst, and?—”
“Lanie. Stop.” Cord pulls the truck up to a stop at the edge of the golden grasslands, facing me. “If I objected to what you were doing, I would have said as much. Trust me. I don’t keep that sort of thing on the inside. Ask West if you need proof, all right?”
I huff a laugh. “I can see how that conversation would go.”
“Yeah, he gets grumpy.” Cord resumes rubbing my thigh, prying my knees gently apart. “Have I stopped you?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Then you’re good, okay?” He pauses. “You keep telling me you’re not good with people, but you’ve made my entire staff fall in love with you. Tell me your secrets.” He leans in, brushing his lips to the corner of my mouth. “All of them.”
My breath stutters. I’m already a molten puddle of heat on the inside, and anything we start now will devolve fairly fast. West isn’t here to interrupt us this time, which is kind of the point.
I clear my throat as Cord backs off a fraction to offer me breathing space. “I spent a few months in Croatia, after college. The families I stayed with had their own houses, in a sort of square around a communal vegetable garden. They shared a table, one for all four families. Mealtimes were raucous events, but they were my favorite times of the day. I wanted to recreate something similar here.”
