Page 42 of Stay Wild Darlin’

“I mean . . . there might be some attraction happening here⁠—”

“Speak for yourself,” I cut in, smirking over the rim of my beer.

He barked a laugh, head tipping back slightly. “Jesus, you’re quick.”

“I’m only trying to keep you humble.”

The smile faded from his face as fast as it came. He looked back at the fire and flexed his jaw. “I might be attracted to you, but I can’t⁠—”

“I know,” I said before he could finish the part I didn’t want to hear. “I know. It’s okay.” I laughed, but it came out awkwardly. “I was drunk. Nothing happened. That’s all. No big deal.” I looked away and took another sip of beer I didn’t want. “You’ve got plenty of other women out on the circuit to entertain you.”

I tried to smile, but he didn’t laugh with me this time.

“I—uh . . .”

I glanced up from my drink and caught him staring off, jaw tight. “What?”

The crickets filled the quiet between us. I’d miss this job when it was over. There was no official end date, but eventually, Dalton would retire. Cora would grow up. Things would shift. Nothing stayed the same forever—and no matter how much I didn’t want to admit it, this . . . whatever this was, wasn’t permanent.

I’d have to enjoy it while it was here. It had only started, but damn, it was already hard not to get attached.

“I gotta head out tomorrow. Outside of Dallas. There’s this guy who makes Brazilian bull ropes. Custom work, best you can get. Mine’s finally ready to be replaced.”

I nodded, pretending to understand more than I did.

He looked over at me then, almost hesitant. “There’s a baby store near his place too.”

My brows lifted slightly, waiting for the rest.

“If you’re up for it . . . I was thinking you, me, and Cora could all ride out together. You could help me”—he paused, rubbing the back of his neck—“pick out a crib.”

My heart stuttered.

“It’s about time she had something more permanent to sleep in instead of that portable playpen.”

I nodded slowly, swallowing the sudden knot in my throat. “Wait . . . is that, like, required? Or are you asking me to come?”

As soon as it left my mouth, I winced. Stupid. Why did I say that? He was my boss. Of course it was required. What kind of nanny didn’t go on baby crib field trips?

“If you got other plans,” he said with a small smirk, “I can take her myself.”

I looked away, suddenly very interested in the label on my beer. My face was hot, and I had no idea if it was from the drink or the way he said plans like he knew damn well I didn’t have any.

“No,” I mumbled, trying not to smile. “I wanna come. I mean—go. With you. And Cora.”

He raised his brows, clearly enjoying me being flustered.

“Uh-huh,” he said and took another slow sip of his beer.

“Fuck,” I groaned, tossing my hands up. “I’m your nanny. I’m coming to help. Now can we shut up and listen to the damn crickets?”

Dalton burst out laughing. A deep, easy kind of laugh that filled the quiet night air.

“It’s . . .” I picked at the label on my beer. “In Seattle, we never get silence like this.”

He didn’t say anything, just nodded, tipped his beer to his lips, and leaned back in his chair. I mirrored him, both of us watching the fire crackle down to embers, the night wrapping around us soft and still.

The crickets sang. The logs popped. Neither of us spoke.