Page 30 of Claimed By the Cowboy
Kitty
We’re both quiet as we clean up and dress before heading back to the house.
The guilt hits me the moment I walk through the ranch house door.
Not guilt about what happened with Tom—that was the most perfect experience I’ve ever had. The guilt comes from what we’re about to do to the arrangement that was supposed to save everything. I don’t want to be the reason Tom and his family lose their ranch.
The front door bangs open behind us, and Angus walks in with Henry right behind him. They both stop dead when they see us.
“Well, hell,” Henry says slowly. “What happened to you two?”
Angus squints at us. “Is that moss in your hair?”
I open my mouth. Close it.
Tom steps in valiantly. “We, uh… took an unplanned swim.”
Angus crosses his arms. “Fully clothed?”
“Slippery rock,” Tom offers. “Kitty fell in. I went after her.”
“Like a rescue mission,” I add, nodding too fast. “Very heroic.”
Henry raises one eyebrow. His gaze drops meaningfully to Tom’s shirt, which I suddenly realize is inside out. “You didn’t have time to dress properly after… rescuing her?” he asks politely.
Tom runs a hand through his hair, still avoiding his brothers’ knowing looks. “Things got... complicated real fast.”
“Must’ve been,” Angus says, lips twitching. “Hell of a mess you two got into.”
Tom lets out a low groan. “Weslipped. That’s it.”
“Sure,” Angus says cheerfully. “And I suppose the love bite on your neck is from a rogue trout?”
I let out a strangled sound. Tom swears under his breath.
Henry clears his throat again, clearly trying to give us an out. “You two might want to clean up before anyone sees you.”
My stomach twists.Delaney.
Angus softens his tone. “We’re not judging. Just… maybe go hose off before your alibi gets any flimsier.”
I nod mutely.
Tom reaches for my hand, linking our fingers. “Hot coffee first.”
Behind us, I hear Angus whisper to Henry, “I give it two days before one of them cracks.”
Henry’s reply is low and grave. “They already did.”
Tom and I come to a halt as we see Delaney sitting at the kitchen table, realizing she must have heard everything.
She looks up from a notebook covered in neat handwriting, takes in our rumpled clothes and guilty expressions, and sets down her pen.“I’m not stupid. I see the way you two look at each other.”
Silence descends.
Henry and Angus, who’ve followed us into the kitchen, exchange glances like they’re watching a train derail in slow motion.
“Delaney—” Tom starts.
