Page 79 of When Sparks Fly

“Just Daisy.” He extends the mug to me. “For you.”

“Me?” I don’t wait to take the mug from him, enlivened by its cozy heat. I take a whiff, squeezing the porcelain in my hands, surprised by its creamy color.

“I know you need coffee in the mornings. It’s hazelnut creamer. I don’t think that’s your favorite, but I figured it was better than black.” His hands land on his hips.

Stupid fiery butterflies. It’s only coffee. It’s not that serious.

Without taking my eyes off his, I lift the mug to my lips for a deep drink. “Thank you.”

He responds with his usual dip of his chin. “You look ready to go.”

I wince. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think about your timeline today. I should have asked you. I need to get back for the appointment on my window.”

In the shadow of his hat, his brows furrow. “Why are you apologizing?”

“I know you have a large operation to run and now you’re running around trying to be my protector.” My hand waves around in the air, gesturing at the entirety of the ranch.

He steps closer to me and I clutch the mug tighter, looking up at him. “We have employees for a reason. And nothing is more important than your safety.” He arches one brow, daring me to argue, and I purse my lips in response. That perfect mouth tips into a smirk. I’m ruined.

“Come on.” He hitches his head toward the front of the house and I fall in step with him. Gravel crunches under our feet, soon interrupted by mooing cows and a whinnying horse.

Daisy is making her way down the grassy shoulder of the driveway on a solo mission I can’t figure out. Her auburn body waddles side to side on her way.

Sutton stands silently with the passenger door open, his intense gaze on me. I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to that.

He reaches for my mug and I relinquish it slowly. Once I’m seated, he says, “I’ll be right back,” and closes the truck door.

Taking the stairs two at a time up the front steps, he disappears into the house and reappears shortly with an insulated mug. He rounds the truck and climbs in, extending the new mug to me. This man.

We make it back to Nana’s with a few minutes to spare before the appointment. Sutton sets to work removing the makeshift cover he put in place of the glass.

My phone rings as I unlock the door. Stephanie’s name shows on the screen threatening my good mood.

“Good morning.” I walk straight through the house to the back porch.

“Maci.”

“Yes.” Who else does she think she called?

“Randi received the death certificate.” Well that was abrupt. Predictable enough.

“Ok. I’ll reach out to Ha-Mr.Campbell and let him know so he can get started on the probate process.”

“I’ve already left a message with his secretary.” Of course, she has.

“Well, thank you for letting me know.”

“You’re welcome.” A prolonged silence drags.

“Alright, well I have an appointment. If I hear anything else, I’ll keep you updated.” I don’t wait for her to respond before ending the call.

Heading back to the front porch to offer Sutton breakfast, I drop my things onto the table in the foyer. I’m sure he has a long day, but he’s driven me all the way here and I’m starved. The technician is already working on my window as I make my way outside, but my eyes are trained on Sutton, standing beneath the largest oak tree in the front yard, fastening a tire swing to it. The tire swing of my childhood. I stop in my tracks.

Momentarily, I can’t decide if I’m mesmerized by the swing dangling beneath my favorite tree as it once did, or him tying a knot into the rope in an erotically aggressive manner.

It’s smaller than I remember. Or I just thought it was bigger at the time because of how small I was. Where the hell did he find it?

Forcing my feet to move, I head down the steps and approach him under the tree. His head snaps my way and a sheepish look covers his usually sure face. “I hope this is okay.” He grips the rope tightly, waiting.

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