She was glad the wagon had stopped because she might have fallen off otherwise, with how quickly he released her. Then he scrambled off the back. But he didn’t rush off. He held his hand out to her, to help her down. But when she put hers in his, she noticed that his hand was shaking just like she was shaking.
What in the world was happening between them?
And why?
This wasn’t part of her plan for her future. This was the exact opposite of what she’d said she wanted. She didn’t want anyone in her life but her babies.
And her business partners.
She didn’t want a life partner.
* * *
Frankie didn’t knowwhat to think of the kiss she’d just witnessed. At first she’d been too stunned to do anything but stop and stare. She hadn’t even known anyone had been on the wagon but Trish.
When she’d hopped on the tractor for the trial run, only Trish and the kittens had been riding back there. But when she stopped the tractor and came around to help Trish down, she’d found that her cousin was no longer alone.
Brett had joined her.
And they looked like they were really together. What in the world was going on with them?
They broke apart the minute she cleared her throat. Maybe she shouldn’t have done that. Maybe she should have just walked away.
But this wasn’t like Blake and Maci, who she loved together. Or Elise and Liam, who were perfect together.
This was Trish and Brett.
Brett, who Frankie had once thought would never forgive Trish for not being there for her dad when he got hurt and then for his funeral.
But he must have forgiven her if he was kissing her.
Or maybe he hadn’t.
But even if he had, this wasn’t a good idea. Trish was newly divorced and very pregnant. And Brett wasn’t much better with kids than Frankie was.
She couldn’t believe these two people, of any two people she knew, would be able to make a relationship work. And if it didn’t, the fallout would make life at the ranch messy for everyone.
The only more unlikely pair Frankie could imagine would be her and Nolan Stokes.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“What were you thinking?” Once Trish left the yard where Frankie had parked the tractor and wagon, she and Brett hurled that same question at each other.
Instead of answering her, Brett rushed on, “Why would you let her ride on the back of the wagon like that? She could have fallen off and hurt herself and the babies!”
The color receded from Frankie’s face while his was probably flushed since his skin was hot. He’d been hot since he’d run for the wagon and then wrapped his arms around Trish.
“That was dangerous.” To be honest, he wasn’t certain if he was talking about the wagon ride or what he’d done, wrapping his arms around Trish and then kissing her like he had.
“I made certain to go really slow,” Frankie said in her defense.
“But there are no sides or back on the wagon,” he pointed out. “She still could have fallen off.”
Frankie nodded. “Yeah, that was stupid.”
Guilt rushed through him for upsetting her. “We’ll fix it,” he said. “Even though I don’t think hayrides are a good idea.”
“That’s not how it looked a minute ago,” she said. “Now, tell me what you were thinking.”
