Page 24 of Rip Ryder's Second Chance

Rip laid his spoon down and switched his gaze to Noelle who seemed interested in pushing cornbread crumbs around the plate. “Fake meat, huh?”

“It’s not only fake meat that I eat. There are many choices for non-meat-eaters these days.”

“And now you own a cattle ranch.” Rip couldn’t help himself, he laughed.

She apparently didn’t find it humorous. “As I said, no one should go out of their way for my diet.”

“Can we even buy fake meat in this town?” Bea asked nonchalantly.

“Good question.” Rip polished off his bowl. “Wonder if I can get a fake beef at the cattle auction?”

Noelle sighed. “You should shop for better jokes.”

“If I remember correctly, you used to love steak as much as I do. Big, juicy steaks that come in a puddle of—”

“Don’t finish that statement please.” Did she look a shade pale? “I took a class in college, and after weighing all my options, and researching, I decided that choosing to not eat meat would be best for me.”

“Mavis Barten won’t eat chicken,” Bea blurted. “She once had one of those fat tumors…what are they called…oh yeah, lipoma. She had a big one on her neck. She couldn’t even drive because she couldn’t turn her head. The doc removed it and laid it on the table right in front of her. She said it looked exactly like a chicken cutlet. After that, she refuses to eat chicken. Says it makes her sick.”

Rip nodded but he’d rather not hear about Mavis’s lipoma at dinner, or ever for that matter.

He did notice that Noelle had stopped eating.

People had the right to change, but the girl he remembered was a country girl through and through. More than likely back in the day she would have been sharing her own raw stories for the reaction. Now she looked like she’d spotted a hair in her stew.

“You should fill Noelle in on the comings and goings on the farm. Better yet, take her around and show her the place. A lot has changed in the last fifteen years,” Bea encouraged.

She could say that again. As much as Rip didn’t think a tour was a good idea, he couldn’t deny the truth that Noelle needed to have a good understanding of the ins and outs of the property. Whether she was prepared or not, she was part owner of Bluebird and needed to learn the ropes.

“I’m sure Rip has better things to do this evening than be my private tour guide.” Noelle gave a tight laugh.

“Don’t be silly. You don’t mind, do you, Rip?” Bea said without apology.

Looking from both women who were now staring him down, each for their own reasons, he shrugged. “I can spare an hour.” Sixty minutes wouldn’t kill him.

Bea smiled widely and Noelle’s shoulders turned limp. “It’s almost Ollie’s bedtime.”

Rip found it almost comical watching her reach for any, every, excuse.

“I’ll be right here. He can stay with Auntie Bea. Right, munchkin?” Bea said in a cartoonish voice. “He likes my singing.”

Of course, Ollie liked it. “Sing.” He clapped his hands.

The kid was happy.

“See. He’s all for the idea,” Bea said proudly.

Rip felt sorry for Noelle—almost. She’d run out of excuses.

It appeared like they were stuck taking a tour together. It wasn’t as if Rip wanted the task either, but he also didn’t want to argue with Bea. She tended to win arguments. Rip had learned that when she and Tuck would go head-to-head.

Chapter 8

Rip followed Noelle through the living room and onto the porch. He’d waited patiently while she had put Ollie to bed. He’d wondered if she’d intentionally taken longer than normal?

His gaze naturally locked on her swaying bottom which was better than any sunrise or sunset in his book. Shards of desire shredded his gut. He doubted he’d ever stop wanting her.

He promised himself he’d keep everything on a strictly business-professional level.

---