Page 102 of Dust Storm

I picked at my nail beds. “Are you really asking for details? He’s your brother-in-law.”

Becks smirked. “He’s not your usual type, and that’s not a bad thing.”

She was right about that.

I shrugged. “My type hasn’t been working for me lately. Or ever. I think a short fling was just what I needed.”

“And what? You’re going to stay here for the next few years to oversee the revitalization project, but you’re not going to touch each other again? What if he starts dating?”

“First of all,” I said as she pulled into a space in front of the nail salon. “I don’t care if he starts dating. That’s his business, not mine.”But the pang in my chest told me I was a dirty liar.“Second, I’m here until the contracts are signed and things are rolling on their own. I’ll find local contacts to see the plans through. I won’t be here much longer.”

“So you can get back to what? Working for the Carrington Group with your cheater ex-fiancé? Being tied to your phone twenty-four seven? Spending your days off in airport lounges and hotel rooms?”

I hopped out and stepped up onto the sidewalk, breathing in clean, small town air. “I miss the smell of jet fuel and terminal coffee.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Becks said as she locked the truck and hooked her arm around mine. “The girls will miss you.”

The tightness in my chest returned as she yanked open the door and I was hit with the comforting smell of acetone and polish.

But this time, Becks was none the wiser. “Come on. I want my toes pretty for when a million doctors and nurses are watching me push out a baby.”

It waslate afternoon by the time Becks and I returned to the ranch. Nail appointments turned into lunch and a stop by a store for some nursery items that Becks couldn’t remember if she had already gotten or not.

I said my goodbyes, made a tentative promise to do an outing next weekend if she hadn’t gone into labor yet, then made the long walk down the dirt path that led from Becks and Nate’s house to Christian’s.

The lights were on, but the house was oddly quiet.

They were probably out for a ride or something.

I loped up the steps, pausing at the top to pull my heels off. I wiggled my freshly painted toes on the weathered wood and slumped against the post.

Tired.I was damn tired.Not after today—though it had been a while since I socialized, and I was a little rusty.

I was just tired. Period.

My mind always felt loud and hurried. If I was being honest, the quiet around the ranch was nice. I understood why Becks felt safe here after a year and a half in a war zone with Nate.

It was probably a nice break from flying all over the world to cover global conflicts.

Instead of immediately heading inside, I pivoted to the porch swing. The breeze was gentle as I used one foot to rock back and forth. The back of the swing pressed against my neck as I draped my head backward and let out a heavy breath.

Maybe Becks had a book I could borrow. Did Christian have wine in the house?

I wanted to stay out here until the skies turned to cotton candy, sipping something full-bodied, and reading something salacious.

The dog popped out of nowhere and darted up onto the porch, plopping down beneath the swing.

“You’re back already?” Christian surprised me when he stepped out the front door.

I sat up quickly. “I thought you were out with the girls.”

A dish towel was draped over his shoulder. He pulled it down and wiped his hands. “They’re up at my mom’s house for the night. She has them sleep over once a month so I can have a night to myself.”

“Oh.” I glanced toward Claire and Silas’s house. “I’ll make myself scarce so I don’t intrude on your night.”

“I’d rather you didn’t.” And with that, he left the front door wide open, and disappeared inside.

When I finally left the swing, I found him at the sink, scrubbing plastic containers.

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