Page 82 of Eight Second Hearts

“Good,” he nods, turning back to the stove. “Go talk about fashion.”

A few hours later, Tripp serves us up a full bowl of chili and I sit down with the three of them around the table. There’s a pile of crackers and homemade cornbread in the center that I reach for immediately. He’d sprinkled some cheese on top of my chili and told me the cornbread is the best with it, so I trust his judgement and go for that.

The first bite nearly makes my toes curl. The second nearly does me in.

“Holy shit,” I say after I swallow. “Tripp! You didn’t tell me you cooked this good!”

“I warned you,” Beau says with a grin. “His cookin’ will make your toes curl.”

“You’re not wrong,” I say, pointing my spoon at him.

Tripp flushes. “It’s just chili.”

“The best chili I’ve ever had,” I reply, before taking another bite. “I’m gonna need you to make this at least once a week from now on.”

His eyes crinkle and despite his blush, it’s the cutest I’ve ever seen him. “Deal, as long as you stick around.”

The profoundness of his comment hits me and I set my spoon down, staring at him, at all three of them. It takes me a full minute to find my words. “You. . . want me to stay?”

Tripp shrugs. “Well, with us. We’re on the road with the circuit a lot, so we’re not always here. . .”

“Is that. . . are we going to talk about what that would look like?” I ask, glancing between them. None of us have spoken about what exactly we are, let alone where it’s going.

“It would look a lot like this,” Ram answers, sitting back in his chair watching me. “You in this house with us.”

“Or in the truck,” Tripp adds.

“Or bent over it,” Beau teases with a grin. “However you please.”

I bite my lip. “Would that make us. . . Would we be in a relationship?”

“If you want a label, sure,” Ram shrugs. “Titles are up to you.”

I frown. “So, like, you three’d be my. . . boyfriends?” Somehow, the word “boyfriend” doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t feel heavy enough. We’re deeper than that already, but what title even fits something like this?

“Yeah!” Beau exclaims. “And you’d be our Indie bird. It’s perfect.”

I wince. “I’d still have to work. I don’t plan on working for Saddle & Spur forever. One day, I’ll be working for a different newspaper, maybe one in a different city.”

“Ain’t not a one of us gonna stop you from chasing your career or your dreams,” Tripp nods. “Whatever you have to do, you do it. We’d just support you along the way.”

“But why though?” I ask seriously. “I’m just a journalist. I’m nothing special.”

Tripp snorts. “Nothing special? You serious?”

Ram shakes his head. “You think we’d all be asking you to stay if you were nothing special?”

Beau tilts his head. “We’re the ones that ain’t special, Indie. You? You’re. . . you’re. . .”

“World-ending,” Tripp offers. “In a good way.”

Ram nods. “I haven’t ever been this tied up in knots over a woman. I’m hard-pressed to think you done cast a spell on me or something. That would make more sense.”

I grin. “You callin’ me a witch?”

“If the shoe fits,bruja,” he teases back. “Regardless, we want you to stay with us, for whatever length of time you’re willing.”

“But hopefully forever,” Beau announces, and then furrows his brows when the others glare at him. “What? That’s the plan, ain’t it?”

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