Page 50 of Second Chance With a Cowboy

She laughed and playfully kicked at him with her good foot.

Mack dodged the kick as he turned to Chevy. “You’re in a knitting group?”

Chevy shrugged. “Yes, but it’s not as hokey as it sounds.”

“He’s a terrible knitter,” Leni added.

“It was for my grandma,” he explained. “It was her group. I started out just giving her a ride into town then she convinced me to come in and say hello and visit a spell. Then I started picking up a couple of her friends on the way, and then…I don’t know…when she was gone, I just kept picking up the others and somehow, I became part of the group.” He shrugged. “It’s fun, and I guess it still makes me feel close to my grandma.”

“Sorry man,” Mack said. “I wish I could’ve met her.”

“You would’ve loved her,” Chevy said. “Everyone did.”

Leni noticed the way Mack had deflected the questions about himself, but maybe he really did think his life was boring and didn’t have anything to add to the conversation. He seemed like a good guy—polite, thoughtful, attentive to Max, and kind to everyone, especially Lorna, and he was completely smitten with Izzy—but it wasn’t the first time Leni had noticed that he’d redirected the conversation away from himself.

Was he just being a good listener, or did he have something to hide?

Leni wasn’t sure.

One thing he couldn’t hide was his ineptitude atSettlers of Catan. But maybe that’s because he was paying too much attention to Lorna and playing a side game ofCandylandwith Max to focus much on his strategy.

“That was a fun night,” Leni said, hours later when she was walking Chevy out to his truck.

It was already dark, but the streetlight at the end of the block gave off enough light to see by. Mack had already headed back to the ranch to help with the evening chores, and Lorna was reading to Max while she nursed Izzy before putting them both to bed.

“Yeah, it was,” Chevy agreed as he leaned back against the door of his truck and pulled Leni against him to nuzzle her neck. “We could have nights like this all the time…if you stayed.”

Her body stiffened, and he noticed, letting out his breath but not letting go of her.

“Sorry. Don’t know why I said that. I know you have a life and a job you love in Washington. It just feels awful good having you here.” He brushed a lock of hair from her cheek and looked down into her eyes. “And I don’t want there to be any doubt or question as to whether I want you to stay. I’m not puttingpressure on you or asking you to. It’s your decision. I just want you to know that I do. Want you to stay. If you want to.”

She didn’t say anything—wasn’t sure what to say—so she just nodded and pressed a kiss to his lips.

Five minutes later, or maybe it was an hour, it was hard to tell how much time passed when she was wrapped up in Chevy’s arms and kissing him, she finally pulled away. “I should probably get back in and check on Lorna.”

He opened the truck door and the light from the cab spilled onto the street. “Hey, with all the excitement today, I almost forgot. Murphy bought you something.” He pulled a plastic bag from the seat and handed it to her.

“For me?” She opened the bag and pulled out a black T-shirt. Holding it up, she laughed out loud as she read the front. It had a picture of a cowboy hat in the middle surrounded by pink lettering that said, Cowboys & Dirt Make Me a Flirt. “Wow, this is perfect.Exactlymy style.”

“That’s what Murphy thought,” Chevy said, teasing her since they both knew she would haveneverpicked that shirt for herself. “He wanted to replace the one he stole, but there weren’t a lot of choices for black shirts at the Mercantile. It was either this or a blue one that said,Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy.”

“Always a classic choice.”

“Oh, and they had a red one with a rooster on the front that said,Just a Girl Who Loves Peckers. Murphy really wanted to get that one. It was a real toss-up, but in the end, we went with the solid black and pink choice. We thought this one seemed the most sophisticated, and that you’d appreciated the way the words rhymed. It felt almost like a poem.” He pointed to the shirt. “I mean, that’s some cowboy poetry right there.”

She laughed harder as she pulled the shirt on over her head, thankful he hadn’t chosen the one proclaiming she lovedpeckers. “It’s perfect. I love it. I had no idea your dog had such good taste.”

“Yeah, well, he comes by it honestly,” Chevy said.

“Tell him thank you. I love it.”

And I love you.

She’d almost said the words. They were on the tip of her tongue.

“I’d better get inside. I need to put Max to bed. I’ll see you later.”

“Call you tomorrow,” he said before sneaking in one last kiss.

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