Cody sets his fork down and looks between them. "Can I come?"
Mason glances at Charlie, and some unspoken communication passes between them. Charlie nods.
"You've been working hard with Wade, and you know the horses as well as anyone." Mason meets his son's eyes. "I think you've earned a seat at the table."
Cody's face stays composed, but the flash of pride in his eyes is unmistakable.
"I'll be ready," Cody says.
The evening winds down with coffee on the front porch. Gran retires early with a kiss to my cheek and a reminder that my mother's invitation is non-negotiable, and Rachel begins the process of corralling her family toward their truck. Evie waves at me from Mason's arms as they cross the yard. "Bye, Sunny!"
"Goodnight, Evie!" I call back, and the delight in my own voice catches me off guard.
We watch their taillights disappear down the drive, and I lean into Charlie as the evening air picks up a nip.
"I should head out too." I fish my keys from my pocket. "I've got an early morning, and if I stay much longer, Gran will probably invite me to stay the night."
"That's not the worst outcome." He pushes off the post and follows me down the porch steps. His hand finds the small of my back. "But I'll walk you out like a gentleman."
We reach my truck, and I turn to face him, my back against the driver's door. He braces one hand beside my head and leans in, close enough that I can smell his soap, and his grin turns lazy in a way that makes my pulse kick up.
"It's still early, you know," he says. "Barely eight."
"Is there a point you're making, Hayden?"
"I'm just saying." His gaze drops to my mouth and lingers there before drifting back up. "Are there any plumbing issues at your house that need attention? Leaky faucets? Loose fixtures? I've been told I'm handy."
The laugh escapes before I can contain it, and the look of satisfaction on his face tells me he was aiming for exactly that. I should say goodnight. I should get in my truck and drive home and take a shower and go to bed at a reasonable hour like a responsible adult with a job that starts at six in the morning.
"Actually," I say, and the word comes out lower than I intended, pitched somewhere between teasing and invitation, "there are several things at my house that could use your attention."
His eyes darken, and the lazy grin sharpens into something hungrier. "Is that so?"
"The bathroom faucet has been sticking for two weeks. And the screen door doesn't latch properly." I hold his look, and the boldness of what I'm doing sends adrenaline racing through me,because I never flirt like this, or invite men back to my house with thinly veiled innuendo. Except, apparently, Idonow.
"Give me five minutes to grab a few things." His voice drops to a register that makes my skin prickle. He presses a hard kiss to my mouth that has shivers shooting through my body. "I'll be right behind you, Sunshine. And I promise I'll take care of everything that needs my attention."
The way he sayseverythingin that deep sexy voice sends heat pooling low in my belly. He pulls back, and the look on his face is equal parts tenderness and intent.
"Don't take too long," I manage.
He jogs toward the house, his shoulders broad against the darkening sky, and I climb into my truck, heart hammering. I just invited Charlie Hayden back to my house on a Sunday night with zero pretense about why.
I head down the lane with my headlights cutting through the dusk, smiling so hard my cheeks ache. In my rearview mirror, the barn lights flicker on, and I know he'll be behind me in minutes.
The drive home has never felt so long.
Chapter 12
Charlie
The five minutes it takes me to grab what I need from the house seems like an eternity. And the drive into Stone Creek passes in a blur of dark pastures and fence posts, and every mile between the ranch and Pecan Street feels about three miles too long.
Rounding the corner on her street, I spot her truck already in the driveway. Sunny is stepping out of the cab when I pull up to the curb, keys dangling from one hand. The porch light catches the loose strands of hair around her face and the pink tank top hugging her curves that's been driving me to distraction all afternoon.
I cut the engine and cross the yard in long strides, my gaze traveling from her boots to her hips and that creamy strip of skin where that tank top has ridden up. She watches me approach with her chin lifted and her keys swinging from one finger. The challenge in her posture only makes the view better.
"That was quick," she says.
