Page 91 of Knot Your Problem, Cowboy
“Forwhat, exactly?” Walker drawls, raising a brow. “Because I’ve got a ten-pound roast and theconfidence to serve two salads. Sounds like I’m thriving.”
“You made two kinds of salad,” I say, pretending to be scandalized.
Walker leans in slightly. “You said you liked options.”
Ridge clears his throat. “Some of us just wanted to eat dinner without a pissing contest.”
“It’s not,” Cash states, reaching for another roll. “I already won.”
“Withwhat, the personality of a golden retriever?” Walker deadpans.
“They are beloved,” Cash points out. “You, on the other hand, are broccoli. Useful. Occasionally impressive. But no onecravesyou.”
“Speak for yourself,” I mutter, immediately regretting it as three sets of gazes swing my way.
Heat rushes up my neck, and I stab a green bean. “I meant the broccoli. Obviously.”
Walker’s low chuckle is warm against my skin. “Uh-huh.”
“Try the cornbread, Sophia. It’s Rose’s recipe.” Ridge, mercifully, changes the subject.
I don’t waste time and help myself, nodding with approval as I take a mouthful. “Tastes like Sunday mornings.”
For a second, no one speaks, just the soft clink of silverware and the quiet strum of country music from the speaker on the counter. It’s warm. Comfortable.
Until I glance toward the mantel and seehim.
Nolan stares back at me from the photo like a ghost. It’s the face of a man who made me feel like I never quite measured up. Who made me feel invisible, even while I sat right beside him. Who kept me as his possession for show only.
Walker is staring at me. Of course he is.
He stands abruptly, crossing to the mantel. “You know what? This needs to go somewhere else.” He takes the photo, disappearing into the hallway.
“Interior decorating phase?” Cash teases. “What’s next, feng shui?”
“Scented candles,” Ridge suggests. “Maybe some healing crystals.”
“Those little signs that sayLive, Laugh, Love,” I add to join in on the fun.
“I can hear you assholes,” Walker calls from the hallway.
But when he returns, he catches my attention and winks. He noticed. He fixed it. Such a simple thing, but my throat tightens.
I return to my food, and we’re all silent for a while, enjoying this incredible feast until I’m ready to burst.
Cash suddenly stretches in his chair, arms behind his head like he doesn’t have a single shameful bone in his body. “Been sleeping well lately, Sophia? Like, real deep sleep? Waking up full of energy, feeling… satisfied with life?”
I pause mid-bite of cornbread, one brow lifting. “That’s oddly specific.”
Across the table, Ridge is suspiciously invested in refilling his glass of sweet tea, mouth twitching at the corners. Walker’s smile is pure innocence, which makes it absolutely criminal.
“Just making conversation,” Cash shrugs, grabbing another spoonful of mac and cheese. “Sleep’s important. Found a whole article about it on the internet. Said it affects mood, hormones, even your scent.”
Okay,nowthey’re being weird.
“Sure,” I say slowly, chasing a green bean around my plate with my fork. “Sleep’s great. Love it. Big fan.”
Walker clears his throat, failing miserably to hide a grin. “Dreams been… vivid, by any chance?”
