Page 5 of Bailey

“So you want me to go to the wedding with you,” Reeves said.

“We could just go as friends,” she said.

“But we’re not friends.”

“We could be,” Bailey said. “We live right next door to each other in a tiny Wyoming town. Don’t you want to be friends?”

Reeves sighed. “Yeah, of course I want to be friends, Bailey.” His dark eyes never left hers. “If you don’t have time to meet people, how do you have time to go to the wedding?”

Bailey didn’t want to get into all the complexities of the Young family. No one in the world had time for that, and she didn’t want to go to Boston and Cora’s wedding at all.

Yes, she knew them, but they weren’t her close friends. And though she had been asked by Bryce and her mother if she would be bringing anybody to the wedding, Bailey hadn’t truly given it any serious merit.

“Tell you what,” she said. “If you tell me what you really do for a living, I’ll just go to the wedding by myself.”

Reeves blinked almost lazily. “I already told you what I do for a living.”

“Yeah, but I’ve seen your house,” she said. “And I’ve known farmers my whole life. There’s something else going on there.” She grinned at him and got to her feet. “And you know, if we’re going to be friends, I’m going to find out anyway.”

She moved into the kitchen, pulled open her cupboard, and got down a bag of orange essence herbal tea. “In fact, I bet I could look it up online.”

“Don’t do that,” Reeves growled, and Bailey lifted her eyes back to his.

“Okay,” she said. “The wedding’s off the table.” She shook her head. “I don’t even know why I thought to ask you.”

She poured the kettle water into her favorite mug and started to unwrap the tea bag. “You can just tell me what you do—what you really do—and we’ll call it good.”

He said nothing, and Bailey peeked up at him from beneath her eyelashes.

“I mean, if we’re going to be friends….” She let the words hang there, and then told herself to stop talking, as Reeves seemed like the type of cowboy who would stay silent until forced to speak. Bailey had plenty of experience with cowboys and “farmers” like him, and she simply smiled sweetly at him, determined to wait him out.

CHAPTER

THREE

Reeves glared at Bailey, and the tiny smile that still wreathed her lips told him that she thought she was being really cute. Still, the playfulness of it sent a zing straight through his heart, and he reminded himself that the last thing he wanted—or needed—was a girlfriend. He’d deliberately kept Bailey at arm’s length for months now, and it had gotten easier with every encounter they’d had that had ended awkwardly. Seeing as how he currently sat on her couch in his underwear, he didn’t see this situation finishing up any differently.

“I’m telling the truth,” he said. “I really am a farmer.”

“How long have you lived in Coral Canyon?” she asked as she poured the steaming water into a mug.

The scent of coffee also rode in the air, and Reeves could admit his fingers and toes had chilled, and a hot drink sounded great about now.

“Six or seven years,” he said. “Only the last four full-time.” He kicked himself the moment he finished speaking, and he wondered what about this woman made his tongue so dang loose.

“So you had more than one place for a while?” She stirred the liquid in her mug, the spoon clinking against the ceramic in a calming way.

“For a little bit,” he hedged. “I had some loose ends to tie up up north.”

“Where?” she asked, and Reeves dang near rolled his eyes.

“I didn’t know today was going to be twenty questions,” he said. “I was just trying to get out of the rain.”

Bailey turned and looked out the sliding glass door into her backyard. Reeves followed her gaze, though the edge of the fireplace partially obstructed his view. The rain still came down in sheets and ran in weeping rivers across the windows.

“I can’t believe we have to deal with a flood.” Bailey sighed and flipped over another mug. “How do you take your coffee?”

“Just sugar, please,” he said, able to answer that question without a problem.