Page 60 of Cowboy and the Convict

He lifted his brows. “Bail money bitch?”

“Don’t act like you’re not picking up what I’m putting down. It’s pretty self-explanatory.” Janie seemed to relax a little as she grinned up at him. “Every girl has one.”

“It seems like I might be yours.” He leaned in to whisper his lips across hers. “We need to talk about that whole thing too.” There was no room for a debt between them. Not now. “I think you’ve more than held up your end of the bargain.”

Janie’s brows lowered. “The deal was that I would clean your house for six months.”

“If you remember, the deal we made left out a lot of important information.” He’d left out a lot of important information. “If you’d known then what you know now, would you have made the same deal?”

Janie snorted. “Hell no.”

“That’s what I thought.” He pulled her a little closer. “Would you be mad at me if I said I’d make the same deal all over again?”

Janie’s mouth twisted to one side before working into a slow smile. “Only a little.”

Today was about moving forward—bringing Janie deeper into his life—and he had one more place he wanted to bring her. “Well, since I’m the only one who would make it again, then I get to be the one who says when it’s over.” Janie scoffed, but he kept going. “I still want you to come over on Sundays, but only to spend time with me and the girls.” He leaned close, lowering his voice as he added on the last bit he wanted her to think over. “And maybe sometimes you can pack an overnight bag to bring with you.”

23

Janie

"WELL IF IT isn't the latest victim of the Moss Creek rumor mill." Dianna grinned at her as she walked in the back door of The Baking Rack. "You are a hot topic around town today, ma'am."

It wasn't an unexpected development. She knew it was only a matter of time before someone said something and her private life suddenly became everyone else's business. "Well that's just fucking great."

The Thanksgiving dinner she'd had at Devon's house the day before had gone well, all things considered. She managed to get away without having to eat any of his mother's sweet potato casserole—which apparently was basically a bland concoction of mashed up sweet potatoes topped with marshmallow fluff that was then baked, turning the fluff into a rock-hard layer of tooth-breaking taffy.

She'd gotten to spend time with his girls. Gwen told her all about the project she had planned for the science fair. Olivia asked for a few pointers on perfecting her back handsprings. She commiserated with Riley over the difficulties of college math courses.

She even got to hear a little more about Sharon's shenanigans. It made her regret not knowing her landlady was off the chain sooner. They probably could've had a lot of fun together. Not now, though. Now things were weird. Because she was dating Sharon's dead daughter’s husband. And that changed everything.

"So, is it true?" Dianna spaced the words out, pronouncing each one carefully. "Are you dating Devon Peters?"

Janie tied on one of the aprons lined down the wall, trying to decide how to explain the situation to her friend. "I don't know that I would say dating."

The word didn't sit right. Not because it felt too serious, but because it didn't feel serious enough. And that was fucking terrifying. Since coming to Moss Creek, she'd been avoiding having any sort of connection with a man, and without even realizing it, she'd accidentally skipped right over a lot of the relationship steps and...

Fucking fallen in love.

And not just with Devon.

That was one of her more difficult revelations at Thanksgiving. Even harder than accepting her presence would always be a stark reminder of someone else's loss.

"We've been spending time together and getting to know each other." Again, the description felt wrong, but it was as much as she was willing to admit. The only confession she was currently prepared to make.

It was enough for her friend, whose mouth dropped open as her eyes widened. "Holy shit." She continued to stare at Janie, mouth agape. "I told everyone there was no way it was true because you hated his guts."

"I didn't hate him." The denial jumped right out, unbidden and unstoppable.

Had she hated him? At one point the thought of Officer Devon Peters made her blood boil, so maybe. It was difficult to imagine now though. Hating Devon seemed ridiculous. He was the kindest, most generous man she'd ever met. He was a good dad. Responsible and hard-working and really fucking good in bed and...

And she loved him.

Fucking hell.

The bell on the door rang and she jumped at the opportunity to get a little space from the conversation. “I got it.” She hurried out of the back room, feet moving so fast her sneakers squeaked against the tile floor as she came to a sudden stop at the sight of the man standing at the counter.

He gave her a slow smile that made her want to pick up the closest heavy object and smack him upside the head with it. “Hello, Janie.”

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