Page 38 of A Cowboy in the Streets

Unlike a certain grumpy rancher.

Maybe I was misreading the situation with Steven. It wouldn’t be the first time this week I had thought a man was into me when his mind was somewhere else. Maybe he wasn’t asking for a date. Maybe he was arranging a group outing. I wouldn’t say no to that.

“What do you say? You and me? A date?” he said.

Well, that clarified things.

“That’s not a good idea. We work together. If you ever want to get a group together and go out as friends, I’d be down.” I hated rejecting anyone, but I had learned long ago that if you weren’t blunt and quick about it, you could end up accidentally dating a meh guy for three solid months.

Steven cocked an eyebrow. “There’s no rule against us dating, honey.”

Apparently, he wasn’t good at taking hints. Shocking. “I’m not interested in dating a co-worker,” I said firmly.

“Calm down. No need to go all me too.” He laughed like he truly believed he was funny and held up his hands as if pacifying a filly having a tantrum. “If you want a group thing, I can make that happen.”

I was already regretting leaving the door open for friendship. I stared at him, eyebrows raised.

“Tonight?” he prodded.

“Not tonight,” came a voice I had been avoiding for two days now. It could not be denied that I was happier than I ought to be to hear that voice again.

Steven fell forward into the room with a little help from Adam. He caught himself and sent an annoyed look behind him. “My mama always taught me to say excuse me.”

“And my mama taught me not to stand in doorways like a jackass.”

His words were for Steven, but his gaze was on me. Scowling, of course. It did things to me, that scowl. Unfeminist, horny things.

I tossed my ponytail and smiled like the tension in the room didn’t have my insides quivering. “Steven and I were just talking about getting a group together for drinks at the Painted Cat. You want to come?”

“Brax wants us at Colorado Springs for the rodeo this weekend. We’re leaving in an hour.” He ripped his gaze from me and narrowed it on Steven. “Don’t you have things to do?”

Steven slid out of the room, muttering something under his breath that I doubted was very friendly.

“I’ll go pack.” I moved toward the door, but Adam’s hand shot out and lassoed my wrist.

“Wait.” I looked up at him, but he kept his gaze on that connection—his hand, my wrist—like it was a lifeline. “Has Ben said anything to you? About…stuff?”

“Stuff?” I echoed. It didn’t take me long to figure out what he meant. “Do you mean Emily?”

His fingers spasmed on my wrist at the sound of her name. I hated that. Hated that she still had this power over him all these years later. Which was stupid. Why should I care if my boss was hung up on his deceased ex-wife? I had no business kissing him anyway. That was no way to earn the respect of my co-workers.

“Yeah. I figured he’d have questions after meeting Deacon, but he hasn’t said a word. I know you’re not his nanny, okay? I know that. It’s just that—”

“I’m his friend,” I cut in softly. Because it was true.

His gaze jerked to mine. He reflected for a beat and then his lips softened, and his forehead smoothed out. “Yeah. You’re his friend. So I figured, he might have talked to you about it. He didn’t talk to me.” His voice dipped gruffly on the admission.

I had zero parenting experience, but I had enough experience as a human being to know it didn’t feel great when the person you loved most in the world kept you at arm’s length. I also knew that box was still sitting unopened in Adam’s office. Men were such cowards when it came to feelings.

“Have you tried talking to him?” I asked. Gently, because men were also sensitive about their cowardice.

He rubbed his jaw. I took that as a no.

“He didn’t say anything to me about Deacon or his mom,” I said. “But he’s thinking about it. He’s seen the box in your office. It has her name on it. He’s waiting for you.”

“Dammit.” He sighed. “I was afraid of that.”

I hesitated, not wanting to overstep. “I’m not a parent—”

---