Page 47 of A Reckless Memory

“I’m not fucking ancient, Aggie.” He rolled his shoulders. “I just feel like it most days.”

“You doing okay?”

“Fine.” As if a Knight would give any other answer. “You can’t deny it’s convenient, you know.”

“What is?”

“He’s somehow gotten close to you again, just as Barns is about to pass.”

Money. Again with the thought he couldn’t be with me for any reason other than money.

“I sought him out. He didn’t know Daddy was sick when he took the job.”

Ansen also hadn’t known I would be his boss. But...he’d been chatting with Daddy here and there. No. It didn’t matter. I wasn’t falling into Ansen’s strong arms with those talented fingers again.

“Did he stay after he found out?” Eliot wasn’t dropping the topic.

I didn’t have a reply that wasn’t yes.

He gave a knowing nod. “Watch yourself with him. I don’t want to go another ten years with you avoiding us because he hurt you. Anyway”—he backed up a step, like he was at his limit with the depth of emotion in our conversation—“a couple of the steaks aren’t frozen, but the rest should stay solid for a three-hour trip.”

His boots thudded on the floor as he went deeper into the house. I’d be at the peak of naivete if I didn’t heed his warning, but everything in me wanted to wall off his words and shove them in a dark corner. I loaded Tex and took off.

Two and a half hours later, I pulled into my garage, sick of wondering how Ansen’s holiday weekend had gone, tired of wishing I could just call and talk to him, and over how much my brain circled back to him. Tex popped up and panted against the window. I let him outside. I’d gotten the horses used to his presence, he was trained around the chickens, and I hoped he was tired enough from a day of frolicking on the ranch that I wouldn’t have to chase him down after I hauled my suitcase and meat inside.

Once everything was carried in, Tex wasn’t doing his business yet. Confident he wouldn’t go far, I got into pajama shorts and a fluffy, oversized, purple sweater. With all the people in Daddy’s house, I’d stayed in jeans and a sweater all weekend. Tonight, I looked forward to lounging on the couch under a pile of blankets and reading.

I skipped unpacking my suitcase and focused on the meat. The two unfrozen rib eyes got set by the stove. I was putting the last of the roasts in the freezer in my mudroom when I heard heavy steps on the porch along with the skittering of claws.

I went to the front door. Ansen was squatting and nuzzling a delighted Tex. Opening the door, I shivered against the gust of cold air. Ansen glanced over and his gaze stuck on my bare legs.

“Hey,” I said. I should’ve left the door shut, but I couldn’t bring myself to regret opening it. It’d been a week since he’d gotten me off, and my body’s craving for him would forgive this infraction. Seeing him should’ve put Eliot’s warning at the forefront of my mind, but it tossed a nice blanket over the recollection. It’d been an emotionally draining weekend, and like it or not, Ansen was a friendly face.

He rose, continuing to scratch around Tex’s ears. “I was bringing the eggs, but I wasn’t sure Tex would stay out of them.”

“He’s been good about them, but yes, a package on the porch might not be safe.” I drank him in. He was wearing a ball cap today, and his dusky-gray coat was new. “Are you keeping eggs for yourself?”

He shook his head and held out the carton. “They’re not mine to take.”

“Dammit, Ansen. There are plenty of eggs. Keep what you’ll eat.” A breeze snuck around the corner of the house, and I shivered. “Here—come in. It’s too cold to talk outside.”

“When you’re in shorts, yes.”

I playfully scowled at him. “Eliot sent me home with steaks. I have to use or freeze two. Are you hungry?”

Bad idea to offer to feed him, but he’d worked through the holiday and all weekend, and he hadn’t asked for more compensation.

He paused like he wasn’t sure if I’d kick him right back out. Tex had already raced into the house and was noisily drinking water in the kitchen.

I pinched the arm of his coat and dragged him in, then closed and locked the door. “I owe you a meal. The omelet was good, even reheated.”

“I wasn’t sure if you’d eat it.”

I ate every morsel, and I’d replayed that orgasm with each bite. Sex and omelets shouldn’t go together, but they were forever paired for me now.

He shrugged out of his coat, juggling the egg carton, and hung it next to mine. I blinked at the picture it made. I didn’t have many visitors other than the few times my brothers had dropped by. I doubted seeing a guest’s jacket hang next to mine would spark fantasies of the future, of sharing a home with this man.

I’d had all week to think about running away from him last weekend, and each day I was certain I’d done the right thing. After returning to Buffalo Gully and hearing Daddy go on about him and Eliot’s warnings and being in my old room, I should’ve been ready to return home and fire Ansen.

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