Page 117 of Recipe for Rivals

“He didn’t really come for them,” I said. “I mean, that’s what he said, but it was just a stupid power move. He wanted me to agree to move the kids back to New York, but for what? So he could have us under his nose. I hope I’m wrong, but until we know for sure, it would be best if no one knows he was here.”

“So it doesn’t get back to Ben and Alice,” he said. “I get it.”

“They’re so little. They won’t understand.”

“Disinterested parents are hard to deal with, no matter what age you are,” Dusty said quietly, his eyes raking over my face with concern and breaking my heart for the pain he’d gonethrough as a kid. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re making the right call.”

“In refusing to take him to them tonight?”

“That, yeah, but also in staying. That’s what you meant when you said no one was leaving Texas, right?”

“Yes,” I whispered.

He took my hand, his fingers holding mine in a loose grip, and tugged me away from the sidewalk and down to the end of his truck. He put down the tailgate and lifted his eyebrows. “You look like you need to sit down.”

“My adrenaline rush is fading.”

He put his hands on my waist and guided me up to sit on the edge of his truck bed, the cool metal seeping immediately through my skirt. The truck dipped when he lifted himself to sit beside me. “Should we go ask Mr. Roberts to turn off his insanely bright porch light so we can see more stars?”

I stared at him. “Do you knoweveryonein town?”

He gave me a sheepish smile. “Most people, yeah. I’ve spent my entire life here. Well, almost all of it.”

“It looks good on you.”

“The town?” he asked, his brow bent in confusion.

“The small-town Texas thing. The Arcadia Creek community. The Wranglers.”

Dusty’s face brightened in a grin. “You like my jeans.”

“Everyone likes your jeans,” I shot back. He couldn’t be entirely blind to how women looked at him.

“I only care if you do.”

“Well, I do. They’re very nice.”

Dusty laughed, the sound breaking through the cool night and my residual restlessness. It was like a comfort blanket, or a hug from Peaches after a long day.

“You didn’t meet my grandpa at the Battle of the Badges,” he said carefully, meeting my gaze, “and I assumed it was a message.”

“It was.” I slid my hands under my thighs to warm them. “I was nervous. It felt like a big step, but I know that was mostly in my head. I’d just—Alice had asked if you were my boyfriend, remember? It made me think we needed to keep our distance until we knew where we stood and how my kids felt about it.”

“Where do we stand now?”

“Honestly, I don’t know.” Inhaling fresh air, I let it out in a rush. “I like you.”

“I like you, too.”

“I wouldn’t say no to another date.”

“Me either,” he agreed.

“But I have to ask Ben and Alice what they think.”

“I’m a patient man.”

“You’d have to be. You’re a Longhorns fan.”

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