Page 7 of Some Cowboys Fight for Love

Then Aria shoved the large brown paper bags into his arms. “I heard you need food.” She kicked the door shut behind her and moved toward the kitchen. Two steps, and she tossed him an impatient look. “Are you coming?”

He didn’t know what it was that prompted him to follow her except perhaps a deep-seated curiosity. “You brought me groceries?”

“No, of course not,” she smirked. “I brought stuff to make dinner.”

Daniel stiffened. “With all due respect, I don’t need you cooking for me.”

She scoffed. “What? Afraid I might poison you?” Aria spun to face him, her hands on her hips. Then she jutted her chin to the cabin in general. “Why would I do that? To lay my claim on this place again? Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but I’m not that attached.”

Sweetheart?

He shook his head. “No,” he stammered. “Because I’m more than capable of taking care of myself.”

“Just like I was more than capable of taking my luggage back to the main house.”

He let out a groan and shoved the bags on the counter. “So, this is some strange way to get back at me for being a gentleman?”

Aria eyed him, and he got the distinct feeling that she wanted to argue with him. She didn’t. Instead, that mask came over her face again and she reached for the paper bags. “You’ll be thrilled to know that it wasn’t my idea. Sophia sent me.”

Daniel relaxed as much as his shoulders allowed. “Of course she did.”

She glanced at him again, and for the briefest second, he thought he caught sight of who Aria really was. The vulnerable side of her she refused to let anyone see. But then she recovered,and all he saw was that fake facade she seemed intent on retaining.

Aria removed fresh tomatoes, lettuce, and other vegetables from the bag and placed them on the counter. Then she paused and arched a brow. “Okay, handsome, I know you didn’t get all those rippling muscles by eating expired hash and green beans.”

Handsome. Another sarcastic compliment.

He worked his jaw, his focus shifting to the cans. “They’re not expired.”

She snickered. “They are. And I know what you’re going to ask. How do I know without looking at them closer?” She pointed the top of the can toward him. “Because I lived here all summer.”

Sure enough, they’d expired last year. How had he not noticed?

She chuckled—this one sounding more genuine than the others. “I probably should have tossed them out, but I didn’t spend much time in the kitchen here.”

He nearly asked her why, but he kept his mouth shut. Somehow, he got the feeling that she wouldn’t be sharing anything about herself with him. And if she did, she might be lying anyway.

Aria busied herself with getting all the tools she needed to cook up some enchiladas while he watched from across the room. He didn’t feel comfortable sharing such a small space with her when he knew he couldn’t trust her.

It didn’t stop her from prattling on about her cousins and how she still couldn’t get used to the chill in the air. He almost told her she might want to leave now before it started to snow, but again, he preferred to remain aloof.

Eventually, after she finished making dinner, they settled on the couch to eat off the plates on their laps.

Aria swallowed a bite she’d placed in her mouth and pointed at the architecture book on the coffee table. “You interested in buildings?”

He took his first bite, and a burst of flavor hit his senses with a vengeance. The food tasted so incredibly good that he wasn’t sure if he should moan and savor it or take another bite before the flavor disappeared.

“Earth to Daniel.” Aria waved her fork in his face, and his eyes focused again. She smirked. “Buildings. You like them?”

His gaze drifted toward the book, and he nodded.

She thinned her lips, her gaze slowly drifting to the book. A corner of a piece of paper stuck out at an odd angle and she plucked it from the book.

He didn’t have to lean forward to see what she’d found. He’d sketched the picture a couple days ago. It was a modest house that combined several aspects of his favorite types of architecture throughout the last century.

Her whistle was soft—almost awe-like. “You drew this?”

Daniel grunted, taking another bite of the food she’d prepared.

---