“How is it?” I ask, knowing it’s not quite right.
She covers her mouth to speak around the bite. “It’s amazing.”
I take a bite of my sandwich, savoring the rich combination of flavors. It’s good. Delicious, even. But I know Angie’s looking for something specific, and this isn’t it. I can tell by the slight crease in her brow.
Back to the drawing board.
“You don’t have to finish it,” I tell her. “I promise it won’t hurt my feelings.”
“No. It’s really good, I swear.”
“But it’s not Denver.”
She shakes her head. “No. Not Denver.”
She finishes half of the oversized sandwich. I wrap up the leftovers for her lunch tomorrow and stow the extra sourdough in the bread box. Afterward, we curl up together on the sofa as Angie’s comfort movie plays in the background.
My fingers twine in her hair. “At least you didn’t throw up. That would’ve put an abrupt end to my budding sourdough career.”
She laughs. “I don’t think you should base any future plans on my ability to stomach food.” Her fingertips trace absent patterns through my chest hair, her soft breath dancing across my skin. “Thank you. I don’t think anyone’s ever put so much effort into something so insignificant just to make me happy.”
“If it makes you happy, it’s not insignificant.”
There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to make her life easier, if only so I can see that smile directed back at me. Her happiness has become essential to my well-being. Anything less is unacceptable.
Chapter 23
Tater Tot
? Call a Cowboy - Lainey Wilson
24 weeks: Baby is the size of a barn owl
Angelina
Daddy: Are you busy?
Me: No.
Me: Stop changing your name in my phone!
Daddy: Winky face emoji
Daddy: Come out to the sanctuary.
Me: Why?
Daddy: It’s a surprise.
Me: I hate surprises.
Daddy: Humor me.
I’m dead.Deceased. RIP Angie.
Cause of death: Griffin Hayes riding shirtless through the pasture.
The man should come with a warning label. It’s not just the pregnancy hormones running rampant again, although I can say the increased libido isn’t helping the cause. His broad, hairy chest is in full view for my enjoyment, right down to his soft stomach hanging over his jeans. The muscles in his back flex with each subtle shift, wind whipping through his hair as Phoenix gallops across the field, steady and unhurried.
