Page 74 of A Cowboy in the Streets

He knew something about her I didn’t. Their relationship existed outside of what James and I had together. That was something I needed to be mindful of. If things didn’t work out with us, James wouldn’t disappear from Ben’s life—or worse, if she did, it would break his heart. I wasn’t the only one with skin in the game.

I squatted to retrieve a couple of the star-shaped blooms and added it to the buttercups and some white flowers that neither of us knew the name of. “Columbine. It’s the state flower of Colorado.”

“Okay.” He plucked one carefully and studied it for a moment. “Do you think that means she likes Colorado better than California?”

I doubted James’s flower choice meant any such thing, but that wasn’t what Ben wanted to hear. What was I supposed to say? If James had her way, she would still be at Blue Skies right now, not here with us. I knew that. But dreams and reality were two different things. The reality was, James was here. And she liked it here. I was certain of that much.

I was still considering my response when Ben handed me the flower.

“People don’t seem to stay here very long,” he said. “Trainers, I mean.”

“James isn’t going anywhere,” I said firmly.

“What if Belle doesn’t win at the show next week? Does James have to leave?”

“Ben, listen to me, bud. You don’t need to worry about that. Belle is still in the early stages of her training. James is doing a good job, okay? I know that. Everyone knows that. If Belle doesn’t win, we will try again next season. Okay?”

“Okay.” Ben seemed appeased by my reassurance. He grinned. “Gramps says you can’t fire her until December, and it doesn’t matter if you do because he’ll just hire her back anyway.”

My eyes went heavenward. Of course he would. “Good to know,” I muttered.

“Come on. I don’t want to be late.” Ben was already two steps ahead of me.

We found the pine door when we arrived. The scent of pizza wafted through the screen door. Ben didn’t bother to knock, a sign that he had been here before without me. He yanked open the door and ran inside, hollering, “James, we’re here!”

Shaking my head, I grinned and followed him inside. James was at the kitchen counter, preparing a salad, while Ben filled the vase with water for the flowers.

I leaned over her shoulder with the pretense of watching her peel carrots into long orange strips, but really, I just wanted to be close to her.

“Hey,” she said, a little more breathlessly than peeling carrots warranted.

“Hey,” I returned. “We brought you flowers.” I held them up so she could see.

“They’re beautiful.” She lifted her face, her lips a mere inch away from mine.

“Columbines,” Ben said proudly.

James pulled back slightly at the reminder that we weren’t alone and that my eleven-year-old son was watching our every move with keen interest. “And buttercups.” Her cheeks flushed as she snuck another peek at me.

It was too much for me to resist. I reached over the counter to hand the flowers off to Ben to deal with and dropped a kiss on her upturned mouth, lingering just long enough to make a point.

Begin as you mean to go on, as my mom always said. I meant to go on kissing her every chance I could get.

Ben made a gagging face at me, but he didn’t look mad about it. I smirked. He was going to have to get used to that.

“I hope pizza is okay,” James said, her voice cheerful despite the deepening blush spreading down her throat. “I picked it up from that take-and-bake place in town. I don’t really cook.”

She said this last part apologetically, and I squinted down at her. “You cook all the time.”

“I bake,” she corrected. “Totally different thing.”

“Seems the same.”

“Trust me, it’s not.”

The oven timer beeped, and I stepped away. After a quick glance around the small kitchen, I located the oven mitts hanging on a nail. The pizza was cooked to a perfect golden brown when I pulled it from the oven.

“Pizza is great,” I said truthfully as I slid it onto the cutting board. “We love pizza.”

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