Page 69 of Spur of the Moment
Grabbing it with the tongs, I pulled it off the grill to set on the clean plate I had ready. My mother’s scalloped potatoes were inside in the oven with ten minutes left on the timer, and the salad was prepped and ready for dressing.
I didn’t have to go all out with this dinner for Lettie. Hell, she’d be happy with to-go tacos from the Mexican joint in town. But I needed her to know I was taking this seriously. I didn’t want her to think all I wanted was a hookup. What I wanted was far from that.
I wanted her to take my damn last name.
Nothing with Lettie and me was ‘too fast.’ If anything, we took things way too fucking slow. I’d been falling in love with her throughout our whole lives, and the last thing I wanted to do was lose her again because I didn’t make my intentions clear enough this time around.
This was my second chance with Lettie, and I’d be damned if I fucked it up.
But that didn’t mean I’d be proposing to her tonight. Sometime in the future, of course. Tonight was to prove to her that we could be more than just childhood friends crushing on each other.
It was no secret she felt the same way. She may think she was hiding it well, but I saw right through the walls she tried to put up, and I was determined to break them down one by one.
I could win her over and figure out a way to keep this ranch in my parents’ name. They needed more land in order to grow more, which in turn would bring in more profit. But the acreage around this part of Idaho was going up in price each day.
We weren’t the only ones falling on hard times, though. The locals were feeling it just as hard. The Bronsons had the rescue bringing in extra funds on top of the money Reed and Callan brought in for them, so they were better off than the lot of us.
We’d figure it out. We always did. But tonight wasn’t about that.
After another minute, I pulled my steak off the grill, dialed the knobs down, and kept the lid propped open before headinginside with the plate of steaks. Using the toe of my boot, I slid the slider door shut, then set the plate on the island to slice the steaks.
There weren’t too many five star restaurants around Bell Buckle, but this would come pretty darn close to one. My mom’s scalloped potatoes and these steaks? Could never go wrong with that.
I sliced through the meat with a knife. My mouth salivated at the thought of digging in. Hopefully, Lettie got here soon because I was starving.
The timer for the potatoes rang out. I spun around, grabbing an oven mitt and opening the door. I pulled the glass dish out, turned off the oven, and set them on the stove to cool while I dressed the salad.
I drizzled the honey vinaigrette over the summer salad containing strawberries, corn, avocado, and an assortment of other vegetables to bring the dish together. It sounded like an odd combination, but once Mrs. Bronson talked me into trying a bite a few summers ago, I was hooked.
Grabbing the potato dish, salad, and plate of steaks, I walked back out onto my porch. I carefully went down the porch steps and headed for the white gazebo I’d built about a hundred feet from my back porch a couple years ago.
It was nice to come out here after a long day on the ranch and enjoy a beer. I’d purchased more high-end outdoor furniture for the gazebo since the roof protected them. The chairs were farmore comfortable than what I had on my back porch, so this was my go-to spot ever since I completed it.
I arranged the dishes on the white tablecloth to fit in between the array of candles I’d set out.
After adjusting a few things, I stood back, checking off my mental to-do list to make sure everything was perfect.
Salad fork, dinner fork, knife, spoon, plates, water, wine...
I forgot the damn napkins.
Making sure I had foil over all of the dishes in case pesky bugs decided to ruin all of my hard work, I headed in the direction of my parents’ house on foot.
I’d moved into their in-law unit on the property shortly after I’d turned eighteen. It was convenient with working on the ranches, and rent was decent, so I never thought about leaving here.
Thinking about it now, it may seem odd that I was still technically “living at home” at the age of twenty-seven. It was the same property, just not the same house. That counted for something, right?
It’s not like I sat around playing video games in my parents’ basement. I worked my ass off every day, rain, snow, or shine. Working was like my therapy. Keeping my hands busy kept my mind from spiraling.
When I found out Lettie left Bell Buckle, I’d mucked stalls, filled water buckets, swept the barn, cleaned the damn cobwebs from the rafters. Anything you could think of doing on a ranch, I did it, and I didn’t stop for sixteen hours.
My hands were to the point they were nearly bleeding, but I knew if I stopped, the thoughts would take over. The overthinking.Was it me? Did she hate me that much, after everything we’d been through?
Unfortunately for me, there’s only so much the human body can handle. I hit my breaking point physically, which in turn made me hit my breaking point mentally.
Lettie may never understand how much her leaving affected me, but now that she was back, I was past that. I wanted this new beginning with her, regardless of the past.
For all I knew, she may have been running from her mental breaking point, too.
