Page 22 of Giddy Up, Daddy

He couldn’t take it back now.

And the truth was, he kind of wanted to see her do some magic tricks. Perhaps there could be more to his life than work, work, and more work.

“If you’ve got time, of course,” she said, calming down and chewing her lip.

“Things will ease up soon,” he lied. “How are you and Grandpa getting on?”

“Good. He keeps beating me at checkers, though. I think he’s cheating, but I can’t work out how.”

He chuckled. “He always wins at checkers. Always beat me as a kid. Grandma used to tell him off for not letting me win, but Grandpa always argued that if you let kids win they’ll never learn how to lose.”

“It must have been fun coming here to visit in the holidays.”

“Yeah, it was. My mom left us when I was young, and my dad had to work a lot. He was an accountant. He hated ranching. But I loved it when I came here.”

“It is really nice,” she said, looking around. “I’ve worked lots of different jobs. I like this one the best, though.”

He had to chuckle. “Really? With two bossy, grumpy men?”

“Hmm, every job has its downside.”

He laughed again. Hmm. When was the last time he’d laughed like this? He couldn’t remember.

“You seem really busy, though. You should take time to relax more,” she told him.

“I don’t have time for that. I have too much to do around here. Maybe once I get everything running smoothly, I can have a life again. Socialize. Date.”

Date? Really?

Did he really want to start dating again? He’d come out of a long-term relationship about six months before Grandpa Jack had his fall and he’d moved here. And he hadn’t been in a good space to even think about dating again since.

So why now?

“My friend said your car will be ready by the end of next week,” he said, changing the topic. “He’ll drop it out here.”

“That’s so nice of him. And I’m so grateful he’s letting me pay the bill in instalments. Thank you.” She reached out and patted his leg.

Her touch felt far too nice, even though he knew it was just a casual touch. He got to his feet.

“Time for bed,” he said gruffly.

“Oh. Right. Sure. I’ll just finish?—”

“Bed, Blakely. I mean it. Understand?”

“All right.” Her shoulders slumped and he felt terrible.

“You need your sleep if you’re going to put that magic show on for us,” he told her.

Her face lit up, and she nodded. That was better. He’d much rather see her smiling than upset.

Stafford decided not to think too hard about how much her happiness meant to him.

Chapter Eight

“Ta-da! Is this your card?” She held out the card to Grandpa Jack triumphantly.

“Nope.”

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