After a few minutes, she pushes from my hold, straightening her hair and giving me a tentative smile. “I meant to ask... where is your truck?”
“Broke down on the circuit. Got the part coming end of the week. Should bring her home Sunday, all things going to plan.”
“Oh. Then how did you get to the last event?”
My gut flips instantly.
“With one of the other rodeo folk. Carpool, you know.” Heat rises on my neck. What am I, fucking seventeen again?
Her eyes narrow as her head tilts. “Uh huh? Would this rodeo person be a woman?”
I’m too old for this shit. I tamp back the temptation to talk about Maggie. If my sisters get wind of anything, even a platonic something, I’ll never hear the end of it.
“Nah, one of the guys.”
Mom deflates, and I feel like the world’s biggest asshole. The glimmer of hope that flickered through her gaze dies out.
“Oh, that’s good, I guess.” She shifts her focus to the field behind the house where the horses graze.
I rise and head back inside.
In all truth, nothing lies between Maggie and me. At least nothing bar the one-sided attraction I have for the kindest, most stunning woman in the damn world.
I open the freezer and shove my head inside it, groaning.
Hell, the thought of the woman has my body on fire at the worst possible times. A chair scrapes behind me, and I jerk my face from the freezing space.
Nia’s shit-eating grin grows wide.
“Hadley has a crush.” Gemma’s eyes light up.
How the?—?
Kayley . . . is a dead woman walking.
The sister in question turns back, her face tugged into a faux serious expression. The mashed potatoes in the bowl she’s working over hit the counter as I tug the tea towel from the oven handle and flick it around. Nia and Gem move to the opposite side of the dining table, as if that’ll save them.
For a heartbeat, nobody moves.
“Run,” I growl.
Their squeals tangle with bubbling laughter as they fly through the kitchen and out the back door, and I’m hot on their heels. Giggles smack me in the face as I burst past the back door and sprint after them barefoot over the grassy yard, gasping for breath around my own hearty laughter.
This right here is why I do what I do.
Period.
