Page 37 of Wylder Ranch
When he returns, he’s pulling a sweater over his head. The flash of abs and the memory that follows has me squeezing my thighs together. He pauses for a second when he spots us, and it’s followed by a slow, sleepy smile that has my heart beating double time.
“Good morning.” He runs fingers through his thick hair in an attempt to tidy it up. My fingers tingle to do the same. “How did you sleep?”
“We both slept well, thank you.”
Alex’s eyes fall to Everly, who’s looking back at him just as intently. Before I can blink, he crosses the kitchen until he’s so close I can feel the warmth of him, and the scent of fresh laundry fills the gap between us.
“Good morning, sweetheart. How did you sleep? Are you hungry?” he asks Everly, his voice soft and soothing.
“She slept well, and she shouldn’t be hungry. She already had her breakfast.”
“Oh. . . and I’m sure it was delicious,” he replies, buthis shoulders drop, and his smile falters a little. “Does she ever use a bottle? I was hoping—maybe—I could feed her sometimes. If that would be okay?”
I blink, surprised. “We tried it, but I didn’t bring it with me because it was too much to carry for a short time.”
“Hmm.” He nods, thoughtfully, walks over to the sideboard on the other side of the kitchen, pulls out a pad of paper from the drawer, and places it on the table along with a pen. “Here you go. Write down everything you need, and I’ll order it.”
“Alex, no?—”
“Haven, please. I haven’t been there for you. Let me help. You’re not on your own anymore, and I want to be Everly’s father in all senses of the word.”
I suck the inside of my cheek. There’s so much sincerity in his voice that I nod, because the dirty truth of the matter is I’m so used to doing everything by myself that it’s hard to recognize when I need help, and it’s even harder to accept it.
But I came to give my daughter the best shot of having a father, so why would I want to stop him when that’s everything he’s trying to do?
“Okay, but first, could I get a coffee?”
“Absolutely,” he replies, rushing back to the coffee machine. “Still take sugar and milk? I don’t have cream, but I can run and get some.”
I hide my surprise with a nod, but my cheeks warm anyway because he’s rememberedhow I take my coffee.
He doesn’t seem to notice, though, and sets about making it. While he does, the cat and the dog trot out of the pantry and over to the chair I’m sitting on. The cat jumps on the table while the dog takes a long sniff of Everly, licks her feet before I can stop it, and sits down.
“I didn’t know you had pets.”
Alex places my coffee on the table and removes the cat, only for it to jump on one of the other chairs and sit down.
“I don’t really.” He points at the cat. “This is Blackberry. Hendricks brought him over one day, having found a litter of kittens that had been dumped. They were tiny and soaking wet, and he put them on the AGA to warm up.” He turns and nods over to the big stove. “As he was leaving, she jumped out of the box and has been here since. She thinks she owns the place. And this”—he reaches out and strokes the Labrador’s silky ears—“is Dolly, who only comes for breakfast.”
My coffee stops halfway to my lips. “Breakfast?”
“Yes, she lives at Burlington with the rest of the rabble but comes down here for breakfast. It’s actually her second breakfast. She’s already been fed once, but as soon as she’s done, she walks out of the back door and crosses the fields to come here. We usually head back over together when I leave for work. . .”
Work.
Obviously, Alex works. I distinctly remember him saying he worked in sustainable agriculture because I thought how similar that was to what I was trying to achieve with my ranch.
Since then, I’ve achieved absolutely nothing because I had a baby, and my world turned upside down.
Why I’m surprised Alex is leaving me alone all day is anyone’s guess. He didn’t expect me here. He has things to do. But I’m surprised and almost disappointed we aren’t spending it together, nonetheless.
“But I’m not going in today.”
I pause. “You’re not?”
“No. I’m spending the day with you.” He stops, his thick dark brows dropping into a slash. “If that’s okay. Unless you have other plans?”
I almost laugh. I can barely remember what plans are. “No, I don’t have plans.”
