Page 7 of That Kiss

“How’s Milly enjoying her new role on the board after taking over for you?”

“I think she tolerates it. If I had to bet, she and Kent will move to Denver within the next five years, and I don’t blame them. His family is there, and we both know Milly is a city girl at heart. Which is another reason I want you back at the ranch: I want you to be ready to step up and take over that position for me on the board.”

I sigh and take a seat at the kitchen table. I was not expecting to have this conversation this morning. Dad and Tyler always come down for the big cattle sales, but now I’m wondering if him seeing me come home those few months ago pushed his thoughts in this direction. I didn’t tell them anything about Camilla—I didn’t tell anyone, actually—but I know I looked like hell when I came home.

And then I did the unthinkable. I can feel my face growing red at the memory of kissing Juniper. I’ve replayed that kiss over and over in my brain so many times, I worry I’m going to wear it out. I can still taste her—still feel her body melt into mine as I held her.

“Is that a ‘yes,’ Son?”

My head snaps up to look at my dad, and without overthinking it, I say the first answer that comes to mind.

“Yes.”

The second I say it, it feels like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. I guess I didn’t realize how heavily this has been weighing on me. But what I can’t decipher is if the relief is because I’ll be far away from Camilla and can get a fresh start, or if it’s because I’ll be back home, and all of those missed family moments I treasure through photographs will be my reality—though without the temptation of Juniper Riley.

Chapter 4

Juniper

“Morning, Scotty.” I wave to my head mechanic, placing his coffee on the counter in the work area.

“Something, something with drips of Juniper in her hair,” he playfully sings as he grabs the coffee.

“So close this time.” I snap my fingers, pretending he almost had the lyrics to “Drops of Jupiter” by Train. It’s a silly game we’ve played for years.

“How’s today looking?” I glance at the call sheet for the pickups today. “Is Allen Greer’s combine done? He called three times over the last two days about it.”

“Yes, he’s the first pickup, and for the record, I told him it would be a MINIMUM of five days turnaround time for this repair,” he says, enunciating the word loudly.

“I know, I know,” I wave him away as I flip through the rest of the pickups, “just relaying the information to you in case he comes in here with an attitude again.” I make a note of the others being picked up and see what we have coming in. Since I’ve taken over running my dad’s shop, things haven’t missed a beat. I expected my dad to be more involved at first, but it was like the moment I said I was ready, he handed me the keys and told me he believed in me. Both amazing and terrifying at the same time.

“Speak of the devil,” Scotty mutters as Allen’s signature 2007 Ford F-150 pulls into our parking lot.

“And for the record, I reiterated your message to him and told him to cut you guys some slack, because we’ve never let him down in over 30 years of servicing his farm equipment. I’ve got your back, Scotty.”

I hand him the clipboard and he winks at me. “And I’ll always have yours, kid.”

I grab my own coffee and a stack of invoices that need to be sent out and walk back to my office. The invoice on top is for Slade Industries International. A little flutter stirs in my belly as my mind instantly thinks of that night, that kiss. I put it in my purse, opting to drop it off at the ranch on my way home from the shop tonight, something my dad always did as well. He always said it was because of customer service, but Mom and I knew it was his chance to kick back and have an evening beer while gossiping with his best friends.

If he ever overstayed his welcome in my mom’s eyes, she’d send a warm-but-stern text to Colton, reminding him to send her husband home as soon as possible.

My life has been in a constant state of chaos since moving back home five weeks ago . . . literally back home. My parents insisted I live with them until I find a house I really want instead of wasting money on rent somewhere. It’s not ideal, but considering they plan to RV their way across America soon, I’m hopeful it will leave me with a little personal time. It’s hard enough moving back home, but it’s especially tough when you’ve lived in your own place with your own space for the last few years.

And while my friends are ecstatic to have me back in town, it feels like I haven’t had a chance to see any of them due to schedule conflicts and a general feeling of exhaustion that’s been plaguing me. Our text thread is full of we have to get together ASAP! and let me know what night works best for you guys.

“Good morning,” I say to my assistant Izzy, who’s flirting with two of the mechanics.

“Morning, Miss Riley,” Noah, the newest of our mechanics, says nervously, pushing his dark, messy hair out of his eyes.

“Morning, Juney,” Mike says with a nod.

“It’s Juniper or Juney, Noah. I’m younger than you, aren’t I? So no need for ‘Miss.’” I watch him visibly relax as Mike walks over to my desk. Noah graduated high school about three years before I did, so I don’t really remember much about him, even though our school was small. From what I do know about him, he’s nice, quiet, and came from a pretty messed-up home life. Rumor has it, he was actually living alone the last two years of high school, raising himself.

“So when are we going out?” Mike bounces his eyebrows up and down. “I’m kidding,” he says with a huge burst of laughter. If I said “yes,” he wouldn’t be kidding; we’re both aware of that.

“You know I can’t show favorites, Mikey,” I give him a big smile, “but if I could, you know it would be you.” I grab a mound of paperwork I need to go through and drop it on my desk. “Just as soon as I get through all this.” I plop down at my desk and he pretends to shiver.

“Nah, too much corporate bullshit,” he says before patting Noah on the shoulder. “Let’s go, kid. Got a long day to get through.”

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