Page 33 of More Than an Ex-Girlfriend

“Thanks for driving me home. Want to come over for dinner?”

“Sure. I’ll text when I’m wrapping up my chores.”

“Awesome.”

I might need to swap out my boots for cleats. Maybe those would stop me from sliding back into Lettie’s arms. Because going with the flow is leading me that direction. And I need to resist the slide.

* * *

Friday evening,I text Lettie before walking into my house. We’re still being cautious even though her mom hasn’t shown her face in town again.

And when I get inside, she’s standing in the safe zone, the magic doorway. “Dinner’s almost ready. Go shower; then we’ll eat.”

“Smells good. I’ll be quick.” I haven’t eaten dinner in the mess hall at all this week.

And every time I miss, Anderson texts me a happy face. I laugh when it pops up on cue, then hurry to my room.

Showered and smelling like a bar of soap, I walk out to the living room. Lettie has food set out on my table. Tonight it’s chicken of some sort and roasted vegetables. I’m eating just as good as I do in the mess hall, and I don’t spend dinner worrying if Lettie’s location has been discovered.

Lettie fills two glasses with tea, and then I pull out her chair.

Once I’m seated, she passes me a napkin. “How was your day?”

“Not too bad. We moved cattle and cleared along a fence line near Beau’s fishing cabin. I should take you over that way someday. It’s pretty out there.” I cut into my chicken. “And once this thing with your mom isn’t a worry anymore, you can come to dinner with me one night. You’d like it.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose on your ranch friends.”

“Are you kidding? I’m not sure they even know what that word means. Ava feeds everyone all the time.” After popping a bite in my mouth, I moan. “Lettie, this is so good. Seriously.”

Her reaction reminds me of the way I feel when she stares at my chest.

A blush highlights the apples of her cheeks. “I’m glad you like it.”

“You mentioned starting a new project. How’s it going?”

For the next several minutes, she tells me about her newest graphic design project.

Our morning drive and dinnertime are my favorite parts of the day, and they have one thing in common.

“You still up for a wild night of mining and building?”

She stands and reaches for my empty plate. “Absolutely, I’m hoping I’ve dug down far enough in that new mine to reach diamonds.”

I take the dishes from her. “Go ahead and get things going. I’ll get the dishes tonight. You cooked. I’ll clean.”

That same adoring look is back, but I try to ignore it. Acknowledging it will worsen the slide.

* * *

Sunday eveningafter we finish dinner, Lettie and I team up to clean the kitchen. And while I’m wiping down the table, she makes us tea. Prior to having her as a neighbor, I wasn’t a big tea drinker, but she likes it. And turns out, hot tea isn’t so bad. Good actually.

I like the minty kind best.

After draping the rag over the edge of the sink, I grab a blanket. The days are warming up, but the nights are still cool. I’m fine, but Lettie will be cold.

I push open the door, and she carries two mugs outside. The scent of mint tickles my nose. There is a sliver of light sinking behind the hills.

It’s quiet for a bit as we listen to the night-critters symphony.

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