“I think I want to grow something,” Ben said as we gathered round the table.
“Oh, yeah? What’s that?” I asked after I swallowed a bite of sandwich, which, to my dad’s credit, was damn good with just the right amount of salt and crunch.
“Watermelon,” Ben said. “That would be nice. I could plant it right there, in Grandma’s garden.” He pointed to the side of the house, where weeds had overrun the flowers, peppers, and cucumbers she used to grow there.
I personally enjoyed watermelon, but it wasn’t my call. I looked at Dad, eyebrows raised in question.
He shrugged. “I like watermelon.”
Ben beamed. “Great.” He took a huge bite of sandwich, chewed, and swallowed it down. “This is your best one yet, Gramps. What did you name it?”
“Good News. Because we got some today.” Dad’s eyes glinted with amusement. “And I can’t wait to see how it turns out.”
One week later, clouds gathered overhead as I hustled through my list of errands, pushing out the morning sunlight. Bank, groceries, feed store for watermelon seeds, gas. I ended the afternoon at Jo’s, the local coffee shop. Probably a bad idea. It was late enough and I was old enough that a shot of caffeine would keep me up past midnight. But we were expecting the new hire, James Campos, this evening. I needed to be sharp for that, and like always, I was drained from the day’s work.
The new barista was there. Chloe. She was cute, like my dad said. She was also frowning at me as I approached the counter.
“Coffee. Black,” I said, pulling out my wallet.
She nodded, grabbed a to-go cup, and stepped to the coffee pot, leaving me face-to-face with my reflection in the long mirror behind the counter. And shit, I was frowning, too. In fact, it was entirely possible I was frowning first, and her frown was only a response to my own. I wiggled my jaw, trying to relax, but my face felt stiff and frozen.
I was stressed. All I did was worry, it seemed. I worried about Ben. That whole thing with the watermelons was weird, right? Or maybe not. How the hell would I know? It wasn’t like I had a posse of eleven-year-old boys running around that I could ask.
And I worried about Lodestar Ranch. This place had always been important to me, but for most of my life, I had been a secondary player while my dad ran things. He stepped aside when Mom got sick, and while I didn’t blame him for his grief, all that responsibility was a heavier weight than I was prepared for. I felt like I was constantly failing. There was too much to do and not enough hours to do it in. And, fuck, I was tired.
And now I had James Campos to worry about, too. Whether he’d get along with the other staff at Lodestar. Whether he’d be man enough to train Belle the Bitch. Whether he had what it took to turn this business around.
Chloe passed me my coffee and I paid up, slipping a dollar in the tip jar, aware that I was still frowning while I did it. Fucking hell.
And then the bell jangled as the door opened, boots tapping lightly against the old wood floor beams, and I could swear my back felt warm, like I had walked into a sunbeam. Chloe smiled past me. An honest smile, not the fake kind.
I stepped aside, letting the woman take my place at the counter. She beamed at me like I had done her a favor when all I did was get out of the way. She smelled like hay and vanilla, and suddenly I was hit with a memory. Sitting between my mom and dad when I wasn’t more than six years old, watching the horses in the fields, the warm summer sun on my back. All of us licking vanilla ice cream cones. It was a good memory. Happy.
I frowned harder, lowering my gaze so she wouldn’t think it was directed at her. My eyes fell on her pink cowboy boots. Like something a little girl would wear. Or a rodeo queen. But she was definitely not a little girl, although there was something youthful about her face. The freckles maybe, or her big cow eyes. I wouldn’t peg her as a rodeo queen, either. If she was wearing makeup, it was minimal, and her clothes were distinctly lacking in rhinestones.
She raised an eyebrow at me. “Sorry, were you done?”
It dawned on me that I’d just been standing here, staring at her like a creep. “Yeah. Go ahead.”
“Great.” She lit up like I’d just told her she won a fifty-dollar scratch off ticket. “Thank you.”
I moved to the bar cart across the room, where I could add cream or sugar to my coffee, if that appealed. It did not. There was literally no reason for me to linger there when I already had everything I needed.
But I lingered anyway.
I didn’t recognize her. I knew everyone in Aspen Springs, and most of their cows, too. Which was harder, actually, because there were more cows than people here. But she was definitely a stranger.
The woman said something, and Chloe laughed. I’d never seen Chloe look anything but aggravated, and now here she was, laughing. Then the woman laughed too. Loudly. Head tossed back, her thick brown hair reaching almost down to her exceptionally nice ass. She laughed like she enjoyed it. Not just the joke, but the actual feel of laughing. She laughed like she wasn’t holding anything back.
I haven’t had sex in three years.
The thought popped into my head unbidden. Probably having something to do with the way her ass looked in those jeans. Though if I was honest, it had more to do with her laugh. I didn’t know what that said about me, that I was more turned on by her laugh than her ass. That I was pathetic, probably. Because watching her smile at Chloe, hearing that booming laugh, I couldn’t think of anything more attractive than someone who actually enjoyed my company. Not a single thing.
And that probably had something to do with Ben’s mom, my ex-wife, Emily. But I wasn’t going to give that thought another second of my time.
I’d lingered enough for one day.
Chloe grabbed a card, wrote something on it, and passed it to Ms. Pink Boots along with the iced coffee she ordered. I knew in my gut it was her phone number. Damn. I felt more disappointed than I should, considering I had zero interest in a relationship with either woman. Relationships were for people with time and good mental health, and I was seriously lacking in both.