I step closer to her. Sweat lines her forehead from her own workout. It reminds me of all the things we used to do that would get both of us sweaty.
Shit. These are not thoughts I should be thinking about Audrey. Not when she’s now glaring at me.
“Whatever, Logan.” She turns, trying to brush me off. “I need to get back to my workout.”
“And I’ve got to get going. Family dinner.” I pull my hoodie down over my head.
This time, when Audrey faces me, a warm smile tips her mouth up. “How is your family? I always liked them.”
“Good. Hovering over me too much, but good. You can always join me.”
“No.” Her answer is immediate.
“Invite stands. If you ever want a home-cooked meal, I know they would love to see you.”
“Thanks, but I need to finish here today.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Audrey ignores my goodbye as she goes back to the weight bench. Not that I can blame her.
She consumes my every thought as I head back to Dixon for the night.
The thought of Audrey coming to family dinner would almost be too much for me right now. The few times Audrey came home to Dixon with me, my entire family loved her. It’s not that they’re a hard bunch to get to know, but they’re protective.
I still remember how upset they were when I told them Audrey and I had broken up. The details I gave them were sparse. I knew they’d be pissed at me.
Hell, I was pissed at me. But I did it for the right reasons.
Maybe one of these days Audrey will stop looking at me like I’m the gum under her shoe.
By the time I’m pulling in to the ranch, darkness has settled across the mountains.
I love this time of year. Something about winter coming and the coldness it brings always settles me. It was always one of my favorite times to play football. Who wouldn’t want to play in the snow?
I only hope that I get to do it again one day.
Based on the number of cars, I’m the last one here.
“There’s my favorite grandson.” Gramps pulls me in for a hug as soon as I walk in the door. The open room is packed to the brim. People on couches. Others setting the table. It’s almost too small to fit all of us, but it’s cozy. Where we’d always come growing up even though we lived close by.
It’s everything a grandparents’ house should be.
“That’s just mean,” Peter says. “I thought I was the favorite.”
“You can be the favorite tomorrow when you remember to bring more Claras over for me.”
“Suck it, bro.” I give him a playful punch as I toe out of my tennis shoes. “What’s for dinner?”
“Chef Wayne is trying out some new recipes over at the ranch, so we get the extras.” Gemma sets a huge platter of chicken down. “It’s a new lemon cream sauce.”
It smells and looks delicious. One of the perks of owning the ranch is we get all the food they test out. Baked potatoes, macaroni, rolls, and steaming Brussels sprouts sit on the dining room table. With the way the Winchester clan has been growing these last few years, there’s not much room left for us to sit.
“You want something to drink?” Nash asks as I amble over to the table.
“I’ll take whatever beer we have.”
“You got it.”
