Page 13 of That Kiss

“Yup,” Ranger says between bites of bacon and eggs. “Mom told him it’s his last time going since he’s officially retired. She’s gonna hold them reins tight.”

“No kidding.” Tyler laughs. “When my dad retired, my mom gave him three passes a year to attend work events, but after that, nothing.”

“These Slade wives,” Ranger whistles, “if there’s one thing they’re gonna do, it’s keep us Slade men in line.” Tyler finishes the statement with him, both of them laughing.

“You know what Brooklyn said to me the other day?” Tyler refills his coffee mug before sitting at the table with us. “She was pissed at me for something, and rightly so, but I told her to mind her attitude with me or I’d give her something long and hard to think about?—”

“Oh Jesus.” I laugh into my coffee and shake my head.

“She looked me dead in the eyes, and without missing a beat, she grabbed me through my jeans and whispered, Baby, in that husky voice of hers, I’m counting on it. Make sure you bring your belt too.”

I almost spit out my coffee. “Okay, I take back my comment.”

“That’s right,” Tyler smiles from ear to ear, kicking his boots up onto an empty chair, “you might think that playboy lifestyle of yours will never get old, but I’m telling you right now,” he points a finger at me, “someday you’re going to meet a woman like that, and she’s going to bring you to your knees . . . and trust me, you’re going to fucking love it.”

I already have.

The second the thought pops into my brain, I stand up, the chair clattering across the worn wooden floor. “Well, boys, are we going to sit around gossiping all morning or are we working this ranch, hmm?”

“Damn,” Ranger slaps my back, “didn’t realize you’d turned into Dad while you were down in Texas.” Tyler says something else and they both laugh as we make our way outside. I know a lot of people couldn’t stand to not only live next to but also work with their family all day, but to me, it’s the dream. There’s no one else I’d rather be busting my ass next to than my own kin.

“I’ll be right there.” I nod, securing my hat and taking a moment to look out over the expansive plains that butt up against the mountains. The sun is just peeking over the horizon with streaks of neon orange and pink, and the silence that was almost deafening an hour earlier is pierced with the trills of a few songbirds and the ever-present shrill of the black-billed magpie.

By the time 7 p.m. rolls around, my forearms are beat from cutting barbed wire for a new pasture fence, and my lower back burns from sitting in my saddle too much. I walk up the front steps to my porch—the same porch I walked away from just a few years ago.

All of us Slades who still live here have built our homes on the ranch, but we’re still at least a mile or two apart. I try not to let Tyler’s words from earlier echo in my head, but I can’t seem to push them away. I imagine Tyler coming home to Brook and the kids, and Ranger loving on his baby girl while Dahlia makes dinner.

I should have had that . . . I could have had that, but why didn’t I fight harder for it? Why wasn’t I willing to upend my entire life for Camilla? Before my brain can go too far down that rabbit hole, I remind myself that I’m not fooling anyone. You know exactly why, but you’re still too scared to do anything about it.

My boots drag across the wooden planks of the porch as I open the door and head straight for the shower in hopes that another night’s sleep is all it will take for me to get over her—to get over Juniper.

I pause, half-tempted to turn around and walk away before she sees me, but I decide against it, reaching up to grab the box of rice Juniper’s attempting to reach.

“Here, let me,” I say as my arm brushes against hers.

“What, are you, like, stalking me now?” She takes the rice from me and tosses it into her shopping cart. “You know you can just ask me out, right?”

“I do know that,” I chuckle half-nervously as my eyes drift from hers. I pretend I’m looking for something on the shelves in front of me.

“And yet . . .” I’m not sure if she intended for me to hear her, or if she said it to herself.

“Hmm?”

“Nothing. What are you making?” She peers into my basket then glances at the shelf I’ve been staring at for an abnormally long time now. “Risotto.” She lifts her hand and points to the plastic jar in front of me. “You’ve already got salmon, lemon, and asparagus in your basket, and risotto would go great with those.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever made risotto.”

“It’s easy. Well, kind of,” she laughs. “It’s Italian rice that just takes longer to cook. Oh,” she grabs the jar and puts it into my basket, “you’ll also need some goat cheese, and be sure to stir it frequently because it can burn easily.”

I follow behind her, unsure of how my Thursday night plans suddenly turned into cooking myself a gourmet meal. I had planned on just tossing everything on the grill and calling it a night, but any chance I have to interact with Juniper always leaves me craving more.

“This is sounding a bit outside my wheelhouse, Juney.” I stare down at the basket as she places a small carton of mushrooms next to the goat cheese and what I think are fresh chives.

She gives me a coy grin, sliding her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. “Hard to believe there’s something a six-foot-three cowboy can’t do.”

God, this woman.

I feel myself throb against my thigh as I look down at her pouty lips. Her cleavage is visible from my height, a perfect shot down her tank top beneath the oversized flannel she’s sporting.

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