“We aren’t picky,” I promise.
“I want cookies!" Bellamy announces.
I cringe. “She's had more cookies in the last twenty-four hours than she's had in her entire life. Whatever you have will be fine, though. We’ll eat anything.”
“Truthfully, I hate cooking. Flashbacks to having to stretch food to feed four teenage boys, probably.”
“Would you like me to make something?” I’m surprised to hear myself offer that. I don’t really want to extend myself like that, because what if she doesn’t like whatever I make?
“Do you like cooking?” She blinks at me. Maybe she’s surprised that I’m offering, too.
“I don’t mind it. I can follow a recipe, if you have cookbooks.” I think of the men I chased out of this kitchen. “I could make enough for your family, too. If they have requests.”
“They will also eat anything.”
Heat flares in my cheeks. It feels like we’re lobbing adon’t want to make a decisionball back and forth.
Maybe Luna figures that out, too, because she reaches for her phone. “I’ll ask them.”
Chapter 7
Zane
“Who is this person cooking dinner for us?” Ridge glares at his phone. He wandered in while I was rearranging the chicken feed, avoiding going up to the house.
I jerk my head up. “What?”
He reads the message on the screen. “Hope is volunteering to make dinner, any requests?”
“Tell her that?—”
“Never mind, we’re going to make kale and white bean soup.Who is Hope?”
I yank my hat off and shove my hand through my sweaty hair. Apparently Mom isn’t done texting, because Ridge doesn’t wait for an answer before reading another message.
“And she doesn’t have a phone, so we need to provide her one.” He lifts his head again, transferring his glare to me. “Again, I repeat,whois this person?”
“A young mother in need. I ran into her yesterday just off the range road. Her car was overheating."
Ridge's expression doesn't change.
“Offered her help,” I continue, the story spilling out of me now, which is probably stupid. “She said she didn’t need it. So I gave her some cash, pointed her toward town. She broke down again in Mercy’s parking lot, and between her and Cash, the suggestion came up that she could help Mom with the kale problem—and make some money to cover the car repair.”
His jaw tightens at Mercy's name.
Dirty trick, but I don’t need to be the only Kincaid brother on the back foot right now.
“She reminded me of Mom. I offered her the help I wish someone had offered Luna, you know?”
Ridge goes very still. "She got someone hunting her?”
“I don’t know what she’s running from. But yeah, maybe.” And that thought twists me inside out. As much as I don’t think she should be here, I don’t want her anywhere else, either.
But Ridge feels differently. “Then she needs to keep running."
"Maybe she needs a safe place to stop and rest." And now I sound like Mercy. Fuck.
"We're not that place."
