Page 81 of When Sparks Fly

His grin only drops minutely.

Izzy and Leah barrel through the front door five minutes before six. I’m coming out of the hallway into the foyer and jump at the welcome intrusion.

Leah calls, “What’s up, sweet cheeks,” as she nearly sprints past me into the kitchen and I hear her rummaging through cabinets when Izzy wraps me in her arms.

“How are you?” It’s a loaded question at this point.

“I’m getting better.” She eyes me speculatively, scanning my face and body, and then wraps me up again.

“It looks like you are.” As if I need her agreement. I breathe a laugh. She leads the way to the kitchen. “Come on, I need food and all the details on your sexy cowboy.”

“He’s not mine.” She throws a look over her shoulder, brows furrowed and lips pursed. Ok, so we both know I’m lying. A smile tugs at my lips.

In the kitchen, Leah is mixing margaritas in a pitcher, snacks sprawled all over the counter. She fills three plastic margarita glasses, all of which read, ‘But first, Tequila!’ Always the creative, she spent a month hand-lettering vinyl onto everything. “I propose Margarita Mondays become a permanent thing.”

“As in, mutual Happy Hour on the phone?” I smirk.

Leah’s smile falters. “No. I mean you keep your ass here permanently.” She perks up. “Then we can test different flavor combinations each week. Lemon Lavender, Pina Margarita, Prickly Pear…”

I blink. “Prickly Pear?”

She shrugs.

“Are you on another Pinterest kick?” Izzy asks, swiping the first glass. Leah flips her hair over one shoulder and grins. I move around to stand byLeah on the other side of the island, picking up my own drink. “Saw the tire swing out front. When did you put that up?”

I take a big drink before responding, giving myself brain freeze. “Sutton found it and put it up today.”

“Today?” they parrot in unison.

Leah smirks next to me. “Come on. Let’s take this shindig outside. It’s gorgeous.” We gather the snacks into dishes, each of us grabbing one in one hand and our drinks in the other, following Leah out the backdoor to the porch.

“Today?” Izzy prompts again, once we’re seated.

I grin. “Yes.” Izzy pops a cube of cheese in her mouth as I start talking. “He went all caveman on me after the window incident I texted you about, so I spent the rest of the weekend with him and he brought me back this morning.”

Izzy’s chewing slows and Leah’s mouth falls open. They both stare at me without responding. I keep talking to fill the heavy silence. “He found it in the garage and put it up while my window was getting repaired.”

“Like a surprise?” Leah sips her margarita. I shrug.

Izzy looks between us and settles her gaze on me. “Anyothersurprises? Staying over that long seems serious.” She has always been the most cautious of the three of us and I can tell by her tone and the way she’s eyeing me that she’s concerned. No doubt because whatever is going on with Sutton and me is developing quickly, especially for me, and I’m set to leave any day now.

“I know what you’re thinking. I don’t know how to explain it. Everything is just so easy with him.” I shake my head at myself and chew my lip. How do I convey what’s going on without sounding cliche?

They continue to watch expectantly. I take a deep breath. “Ok. The night we met at the bar, he only came over because Colt was making me tense—"

“Only?” Leah sips her drink as if she didn’t interrupt. I ignore her despite giving her a dirty look.

“—andhe saw that I was happy on the dance floor, so he danced with me.” Izzy’s face softens, spurring me on. “When I asked to use one of his trailers for the Fall Festival photos, he didn’t even balk. He cleaned it and drove up there, ready to go before I arrived. This morning, he let me sleep when he got up, and then he brought me coffee. With a reasonably appropriate creamer. Even though we’ve never discussed it.”

“You do have a bit of a caffeine addiction,” Leah says, margarita glass pressed to her lips.

I smile. “When he took me out for our only official date, he brought me a cactus.”

Both of them seem confused, and they exchange a look of questioning my sanity. “A prickly pear,” I say with a pointed look at Leah, “because he heard me yelling at flowers one day and remembered that I don’t like them and the prickly pear grows at the ranch.”

Leah is gaping at me now.

“He took the time to propagate one?” Izzy crosses her legs on the bench. “Where’s the caveman part?”

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