Uncomfortable silence flickers across the table. James clears his throat and reaches for the potatoes, closing the subject before anyone has the chance to press. A notion I am very grateful for.
“You don’t talk much.” Teagan cocks her head to the side as she stabs a baby carrot with her fork.
“Neither does James.”
Knox laughs hard, nearly choking on his mouthful of food, as James shoots me a look. If I squint hard enough, I can pretend it’s amusement.
“Fair.” Teagan’s lips twitch as she fights to hold back a smile. She shifts her body and drops her head to look under the table. Her voice is sweet, but laced with an edge, as she adds, “And those might look like cowboy boots, but I’m pretty sure they’ve never even seen mud.”
I glance down at my feet instinctively to inspect my boots. They’re worn.Barely.But not ranch-worn.
Before I can respond, she sasses, “You might look like acowboy, but those expensive jeans and boots… You don’t fool me, city boy.”
City boy?!?
I nearly laugh at the audacity.
Boy?
I have to be at least a decade older than her. If anyone at this table qualifies as a boy, it’s Knox. But I let it slide. It’s not even my first day on the job, and James had the generosity to invite me into his home.I need to be respectful of that.
“I grew up around ranches,” I reply, matter-of-factly. “I just… took a detour.”
Her gaze rolls over my face, and the corner of her lips ticks up with a bratty smirk. “A long one.”
Long enough to build a career. Lose my wife. Nearly lose myself.
“Long enough.”
Knox leans forward on his elbows, “Dad tell you we start at five?”
“Yes.”
“I hope you ain’t delicate,” he teases.
“I’ll manage.”
Teagan huffs softly. “We’ll see…”
The rest of dinner unfolds with more casual conversation. Knox talks incessantly, Teagan frequently interrupts to correct his exaggerations, and James listens far more than he speaks. I spend the meal carefully answering questionsand sidestepping details.Who I really am. The spotlight and world tours. My dreamer. The life I walked away from.
I can tell by the way Teagan’s eyes narrow slightly at my deflections that she notices. As much as I expect her to call me out on it, she repeatedly lets the slide.
Halfway through dessert—peach cobbler that tastes like summer—I catch myself watching her. Nothing about her is reserved. She says what she wants without a filter. The way laughter bubbles out of her—especially when Knox says something particularly stupid—is almost contagious. She’s strong and confident. Alive in a way that feels almost foreign to me.
When dinner winds down, James scoots back his chair. “Five a.m.”
“I’ll be ready.”
He nods once.
“If you oversleep,” Knox pauses to stretch as he stands from the table, “Teagan will pour a bucket of ice water on you.”
“I absolutely will,” she confirms sweetly with a devilish grin.
After pushing my chair back from the table, I rise to my feet. “Thank you,” I express my gratitude to James. “For the meal and the opportunity.”
“You’re welcome for the meal. You’ll earn the opportunity.”
