The alarm on Tessa’s cell phone went off, and like the starting gun on Amazing Race, Jack burst through her bedroom door, his kid-sized tactical backpack loaded up and strapped to his back. A flashlight and water bottle dangled from a couple of the loops on either side. You’d think he’d packed for a week in the Serengeti, not the weekend at her great Aunt Evie’s ranch.
“Get up, get up, get up.” Jack’s boots slid on the wood floor, and his thigh thumped into the nightstand. Something slid off the paper plate he held in his hand. “Oops.”
That can’t be good. Tessa closed her eyes. When she opened them again, Jack was blowing on a piece of peanut butter toast. He held it out to her with pride. “I made you breakfast.”
With the flight hours she’d been clocking, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d swept or mopped. The hairy toast mocked her. “That’s okay, buddy. I’m not that hungry. You can have mine.”
“I already ate.” He held the plate out to her again. If she blurred her eyes, she almost couldn’t see the dust bunnies glued to the peanut butter. “And my teacher says breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”
Jack hoovered up information faster than a Dyson, and he wasn’t shy about sharing what he learned. Before he launched into the intricacies of the food pyramid, she plucked a stray hair off the top of her toast and took a big bite.
She choked it down, and he yanked the covers off her. “Hurry, we’re going to be late.”
“Okay, okay.” Tessa laid her toast on the bedside table and rolled out of bed. “I’m hitting the shower.”
“But, Mom—”
“Go,” she said. “You can play one of your video games while you wait if you want.”
Jack rolled his eyes, as he headed toward the door, his thumbs tucked in the shoulder straps of his backpack. “Billy’s dad says that too much screen time rots brain cells. Do you want me to lose brain cells? I’m only seven. If I start now there’s no telling how many I’ll lose by the time I’m fifteen, and then if I start drinking young—”
“Ho, now. Since when were you planning on a life of underage drinking? That doesn’t sound like you.”
“I’m not. Pickling your liver is no joke.” He grabbed the door as he slowly started backing out. “But statistically kids are starting to drink younger and younger, and it’s inevitable–”
“Jaaack.” Statistically. Inevitable. Who else’s second grader argued like a seasoned lawyer?
“I’m just saying you can’t fight statistics and—” She raised her brows, letting him know it was time to give up. “Okay, okay. I’m going.”
Jack left and closed the door behind him. Tessa let the smile that she’d been holding back break free. Some days it was all she could do to keep up with him mentally. What was she going to do when he was fourteen, or sixteen, or eighteen? Dear Lord, she was in trouble.
Tessa was in and out of the shower in record time. She stood in front of her mirror, a towel wrapped around her body as she brushed her teeth and worked the tangles out of her hair. There came a faint knock at her bathroom door, and Jack poked his head in.
“I’m almost ready,” she said. “Give me a few more minutes.”
Jack came into the bathroom and held up the plate with her fuzzy peanut butter toast. “Don’t forget this,” he said. “Protein is a great way to help you keep full all day.”
Tessa smiled, took her toast, and because he was watching, she took another bite. Who knew, maybe the dust bunnies would add a little fiber to her diet. Around the bite, she said, “Now go on. I need to get dressed.”
Jack hurried out, his backpack flapping against his back. Tessa shoved the rest of the toast into her mouth. Her cell phone buzzed on the counter beside her. She groaned when she saw the caller ID and swallowed hard.
“Dad? Something wrong?” She held the phone away from her face, checking the time. It wasn’t even six AM. “Why are you calling this early?”
“Been talking with your husband –”
“Ex-husband.”
Her father talked over her as if she hadn’t said anything. As if her divorce wasn’t final. The fact that her father was still talking with Bradley left a worse taste in her mouth than the fuzz-encrusted peanut butter.
It was frustrating enough that her ex wanted back into her and Jack’s life, but to have her father do her ex’s groveling? Her father should be on her side. Not Bradley’s.
She only half listened to her father talking because the gist of what he had to say never changed: Bradley was sorry. Bradley would try better. Her son deserved to have his father around.
Her father couldn’t understand why she was so difficult, so selfish.
All those things were meant to pile on the guilt, to make her into the villain, to make her think she was the one who was going to screw up their child.
“Dad, stop.”
“Be reasonable, Tessa. Bradley deserves—”
“Bradley deserves what he got. A divorce, and limited visitation.”
“Your son needs a positive male role model. He needs his father. He needs—”
“Look, Dad, I gotta go.” Tessa pinched the bridge of her nose to relieve the pounding behind her eyes. She didn’t have the time or the energy to argue with her father. “I’m running late. I’ll call later. Tell Mom I love her.”
Tessa hung up, her hand shaking as she dropped the phone on the counter. Six years and her father hadn’t accepted that she and Bradley would never, ever, ever be together again.
Bradley wasn’t a good man.
He was a charmer. When it suited him. Especially with family court judges, she found. He could make you want to drink the Kool-Aid and jump off a cliff. How could her father not see past Bradley’s bullshit?
Before Jack could come back into her room, she jumped into a pair of jeans, stomped into her boots and slipped on an old T-shirt and sweatshirt. Catching her hair in a ponytail, she called it good. The cows weren’t too picky.
She dumped her paper plate in the kitchen trash, grabbed a quick cup of coffee in her travel mug and called out to Jack. He’d settled on the couch engrossed in one of his new books from the library. Harry Potter? Or maybe quantum physics? Who knew. Long ago, she’d quit steering him toward books geared for kids his age. With Jack, she picked her battles, and what books he read wasn’t one she was going to win.
She plopped a Bison County Sheriff’s Office baseball cap on his head, the bill turned backward. “Come on, slowpoke, you’re gonna make us late.”
Jack grumbled and righted his cap. “Mom, that’s not the way the pros wear their caps.”
Heaven forbid her son does something against the “rules.” And really? Was she complaining that her son follows the rules? What was the matter with her?
He scrambled to his feet, tried to stuff the book into his already overloaded backpack. When it didn’t fit, he tucked it under his arm and ran out the front door. Tessa pulled up the rear and locked the door behind her.
“Uh, oh,” Jack said.
Tessa turned, her purse dropping from her shoulder at the sight of her flat tire. “Shit.”
“Mom, Billy’s dad said that swearing –”
“Yeah, yeah.” Tessa clicked her key fob and had Jack throw his gear in the back seat of her four-door Jeep Wrangler.
Jack closed the rear passenger door and grinned at her. “Does this mean I get to learn how to change a tire today?”
Tessa leaned over her tire and ran her finger along the one-inch gash in the sidewall. Her stomach shifted and the peanut butter she’d eaten stuck like glue. This wasn’t a flat tire from a simple road hazard. Someone had slashed her tire. Tessa forced false cheer into her voice. “I guess, buddy. Help me get the spare off.”
She glanced at her watch, she wouldn’t make the Lazy S by seven. She shot off a quick text to Quinn and told him she had a flat and suggested they should go on without her.
The responding text came in as she busted the last of the lug nuts loose. Jack checked her phone. “Quinn said someone will wait and you can catch up.”
She replaced the damaged tire with the spare and showed Jack how to tighten the lug nuts evenly. He pushed and pulled on the lug wrench getting the nuts as tight he could. She followed up behind him tightening them up the rest of the way.
“Take this,” she said, handing him the lever for the jack. “Slowly turn it to the left until the hydraulic bleeds down and the tire is on the ground.”
In a rush, she hefted the damaged tire in the back of her Jeep and tossed the tire tools in on top. “Saddle up, Cowboy.”
After climbing behind the wheel, she wiped her grimy hands on her jeans and glanced over her shoulder at Jack. “All set?”
He fastened himself into his booster seat. “You know, the new guidelines on child safety seats—”
“Say you have ten pounds and an inch and a half to go.”
“But Billy doesn’t use a booster seat, and he only weighs—” Tessa cut him off with a narrow-eyed look in the rearview mirror. Jack blew out a breath. “Fiiine.”
Her headlights cut through the dull gray dawn as the low cloud cover kept well east of the Rockies. About fifteen minutes later, the Jeep rumbled over her great Aunt Evie’s cattle guard. Jack giggled. The cattle guards always made him giggle. Sometimes she forgot he was a kid.
“That tickles my butt,” he said.
Jack scrambled out of his booster seat as Tessa parked. He was out of the Jeep and running for Evie’s front door before Tessa got the chance to pull the keys from the ignition. She reached into the back, shouldered Jack’s backpack, and followed him to the front door. Jack raised his hand to knock, but Massey, Evie’s grown grandson, pulled the door open before he had the chance.
“Hey, Squirt.” Massey released the grip on one of his crutches and gave Jack a fist bump.
“Hey.”
They both pulled their hands back and extended their fingers like an explosion. Jack skipped into the house, and Massey pulled Tessa in for a hug. “Hey cuz, how you been?”
Tessa rolled her eyes. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say this was a Monday.”
“That good, huh?” Massey chuckled and started crutching his way to the kitchen. Massey had Cerebral Palsy, but he rarely let that slow him down. When he spoke, his consonants came out soft. When she and Jack had moved to the area, it had taken them no time at all to get used to the way he talked. The local women had learned to appreciate it. He never seemed short of female companionship.
Tessa dropped Jack’s bag on the couch on her way to the kitchen. Evie greeted her with a hug. Evie was a slight woman who had more steel in her spine than Lady Liberty.
“I thought this would be nice for your ride.” Evie handed her a full thermos of coffee. “It probably won’t warm up for another couple of hours.”
With thanks, Tessa took the thermos. She glanced toward the table where a set of architectural drawings were spread out over the top. Massey bumped his chin toward the man standing in the kitchen. “You remember Wyatt Wolfe?”
“Sure.” Wyatt and his new wife lived on a houseboat on Evie’s large stock pond. When you pulled up to her aunt’s house, it was kind of hard to miss. She stuck out her hand, and they shook. She leaned over and looked at the drawings for what looked like some sort of barn or warehouse facility. “What’s this?”
Wyatt glanced at Massey. Massey shrugged as if to say, ‘sure why not?’
“It’s a training facility,” Wyatt said. “For Steele-Wolfe Securities. I’m trying to keep it on the down low for right now.”
In other words, don’t tell anybody. Fine by her. “Ohhh,” Tessa said. “I want to come play when you get it finished.”
Tessa had known that the former detective with the Bison County Sheriff’s Department was now a private investigator, but this was the first she’d heard about him opening a security firm.
“Who knows,” Wyatt said. “Maybe you’ll like the facility so much you’ll want to stay on.”
Tessa raised her brow. “I’m pretty sure you can’t afford me. Or my helo.”
Wyatt’s warm smile said that maybe she didn’t know as much as she thought she did. “We’ll see about that.”
Jack downed half a glass of the milk that Evie had poured him, leaving a white mustache on his upper lip. “You’re going to be late, Mom.”
“Is that your nice way of getting rid of me?” She ruffled a hand through his dark brown hair. She really needed to get him a haircut. “No crying, no whining, no Mom please don’t leave me?”
“Nope.” No thought. No hesitation. Tessa loved Jack’s newfound independent streak, but sometimes a piece of her wondered what happened to that little boy that used to cling to her neck and never want to be put down. But this was good. This was really good.
She started backing out of the kitchen. To Wyatt, she said, “Hey I know a guy in construction if you’re looking for bids.”
Massey leaned against the counter, most of his weight on one crutch. “Who’s that?”
“Boomer – I mean Brian. Brian Wilcox. He built a bunch of the cabins at the Lazy S. Quality work. I don’t know if this job is too big, but you might think about giving him a call.”
“Thanks,” Wyatt said. “I’ll do that.”
To Evie, Tessa said, “You sure you don’t mind keeping Jack for the weekend? I can pick him up tonight. I don’t think we’ll be super late getting back.”
“Mooom,” Jack complained. “You said I could stay all weekend. You promised—”
“It’s fine.” Evie patted Jack’s shoulder. “We love having him.”
“I’ve got my riding lessons.” Jack drank the rest of his milk and used his sleeve to wipe the remains from his lip. Boys.
“And Jack was going to help me build that teeter-totter for the horses,” Massey said. “Go on. Enjoy your time off. You deserve it.”
She smiled, warmed by the way her extended family had embraced her and Jack when they’d moved to the area. What she wouldn’t have given to have that kind of support when Jack had been younger, and Bradley had been nowhere around.
“Go.” Jack waved his hand in a shooing motion.
“Okay, okay. I’m out of here. I have my cell phone if you need me. She pulled out a piece of paper from her pocket and handed it to Evie. “Here’s the Lazy S’s satellite phone number. You should be able to reach me there if need be, once I’m out of cell phone range.”
Evie took the paper and slipped it into her back pocket. “Don’t worry. Everything will be fine. Go have your fun.”
At the Lazy S, Gil watched as the headlights from Tessa’s Jeep popped over the gentle rise. His guts felt light and he tamped down on the thrill. Yes, Tessa was a beautiful, fascinating, intriguing woman, but a little flirting didn’t mean she had any interest in a relationship with him. Gil pushed himself off the rails of the round pen and tightened Sierra’s and Mr. Ford’s cinches for the final time.
“You made it,” Gil said, as she climbed out of the Jeep. He led the horses over to her. “I was about to give up on you.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you wait. I hate to hold you guys up.”
“It’s all good. They were a little late leaving anyways. A little trotting, a little cantering, and we’ll catch up to them in no time.”
She smiled, but it came off a little unsure. “Quinn did tell you that I’m just now getting back into riding, right? I don’t have to go. I don’t want to slow you down.”
“You’ll be fine. If we start going too fast, you let me know, and we’ll slow down.” He handed her Sierra’s reins.
Sierra was one of the ranch’s older horses, a babysitter, Jenna had told him. The kind of horse she could put kids and new riders on and the mare would pack them around and treat them like fine bone china.
“Where’s your hat?” Gil bobbed his chin toward her head. “Your face is going to fry.”
She glanced at her Jeep as if a hat would suddenly appear, then glanced back at him. “I’ll be fine.”
Her complexion wasn’t too fair, but the sun at this altitude was strong. Stepping closer, he pulled his black-felt Stetson off the top of his head and plopped it down on hers, sorely tempted to cup her face, run his thumb over her plump bottom lip and lean in and taste for himself what he’d been missing. Would her kisses be sweet and tender? Or would the heat scorch them both?
Instead, he reached up and tugged on the end of her ponytail. “The hat suits you.”
She pulled the hat off her head and held it out to him. “I can’t take your hat.”
“Don’t argue.” He took a step back, pulling an old beat up ATF baseball cap from his back pocket and tugging it down over his head.
The morning sun shone through the bullet hole in the brim. Luckily, he hadn’t been wearing the hat when the bullet had struck it. “Let’s go, daylight’s wasting.”
She replaced his hat on her head. He liked seeing something of his on her. Not like he was claiming her. It wasn’t like that, but it put a self-satisfied smile on his face.
They both swung into the saddles and trotted down the two-track dirt road, past the new cabins, and even further past the old ones. They continued on the trail leading down to the Lazy S’s hot spring and rode on, their horses’ noses pointing toward the foothills.
The horse he rode, Mr. Ford, seemed to know the way. They trotted for a mile or two, over scrub and scraggly grass, his saddle squeaking to the gentle rhythm. Gil kept Tessa ahead of him to make sure that she wasn’t riding above her abilities.
But the truth was, he liked watching her ride from behind. He loved watching how her hips swayed in the saddle and wondered what it would feel like to have those lithe thighs wrapped around him. At a small creek, they slowed the horses to a walk, and let the animals catch their breath.
“Why were you late?”
Tessa remained quiet for a moment, glancing at him and then looking away as if deciding how much she was gonna tell him. The trail widened, and Gil trotted up and slowed Mr. Ford to a walk beside her. She rolled her head from side to side and said, “Flat tire.” She didn’t look at him when she said it.
“Something tells me there’s more to that story.”
“Maybe.” She shrugged, but there was a stiffness to her shoulders. She wasn’t as indifferent as she pretended. “I … It’s nothing.”
“Whoa,” Gil told Mr. Ford. The horse stopped, so did Sierra. “What’s nothing?”
Tessa turned her horse to face him. “My front tire was slashed. But I don’t live in the nicest part of Murdock. It could have been anyone. A bunch of kids on a dare. It doesn’t mean anything.”
By the way she scrunched up her face, he didn’t think that she really believed that. Neither did he. She may not live in the affluent section of town, but while Murdock wasn’t the slums of New York, it also wasn’t the wild, wild, West. “Who was it?” He would bet his left nut that she knew who’d done it.
“It doesn’t matter. I can’t prove—”
“I’m not asking you what you can prove. I’m not a prosecutor. I want to know what you think.”
She turned her horse and started walking off again. Gil squeezed Mr. Ford into a trot and pulled her to a stop by her reins. “Tell me.”
“I really—”
“Tell me.” There was no asking in his tone. He’d been in law enforcement long enough not to let something like this slide. He waited her out.
She scratched Sierra’s brown and white neck and ran her fingers through the paint’s thick mane. “I think it was my ex-husband. Or maybe one of his lackeys.”
“What about security cameras? Is your house monitored?”
She laughed, it was a little sad, but sweet. “No. And before you ask, my neighbors don’t have any either. It’s not that kind of neighborhood.”
They rode on toward the canyon again. If they didn’t hurry, they’d never catch up to Quinn and the rest of them. Not that that would bother Gil any. He’d much rather spend a little alone time with Tessa, than ride at the back of the herd eating dust and wiping grit from his eyes. “Did any of the neighbors see anything?”
Far in the distance, a horse called out. Mr. Ford pricked his ears and returned the call. They must be getting close to the others. As they walked on, the scrub grass slowly gave way to greener pasture. With careful steps, they negotiated a steep downhill, crossed the shallow river, and trotted up the gentle slope of the embankment on the other side.
“I was in too much of a hurry to check with the neighbors.”
“Check with them when you get home.” It was an order. Even if it wasn’t his to give. An ex, angry enough to slash a tire, could easily escalate. He’d seen it happen too many times. She bristled but didn’t say anything. If she didn’t do it, he would. She was living alone in a not good part of town with a young child. This wasn’t the kind of thing where you shrugged your shoulders and dismissed it.
“Look, my ex is an asshole, clearly, but he’s basically harmless.”
“And angry. Clearly,” he said, mocking her tone.
They came over a rise, and saw the rest of the group a few hundred yards ahead. This time it was Sierra who called out, but none of the other horses answered.
“Yeah, well, he thinks he can swoop back into his child’s life after being AWOL for the past six plus years and get full custody. Not gonna happen. He’s going to have to get over himself. As it is, the judge granted him limited visitation. Not as much as my ex would have liked, but more than I’d wanted.” She stared off into the distance, where everyone from the Lazy S had gathered, but Gil could tell she wasn’t seeing them.
“Who is this guy?”
She looked at Gil then. Eyed the embroidered letters on his baseball cap. She was law enforcement herself, but she flew helo’s, she wasn’t the kind to bust down doors, guns blazing. He was. The way her eyes narrowed, she’d guessed that about him.
“Why do you want to know? You going to bust down his door? Tell him to back off? Rough him up?”
Yes. Yes. And hell yes. “Maybe,” he said, deciding to answer her honestly. She wasn’t a damsel in distress, and he didn’t have a white knight complex. She was tough, he could see that, but even the toughest people needed backup.
“I’d rather not say. I don’t need you, or Quinn, or any of y’all’s buddies making matters worse. It was a slashed tire. He made his point.”
“Which is?”
“That he’s not happy with me. Look, can we drop this? I want to enjoy the day. The last thing I want to do is to bring my ex on this ride with me. Think we can do that?”
“On one condition.” He held back a smile. “Have dinner with me tonight.”
She pulled Sierra up short. The horse tossed her head. “Aah… Look, Gil, I’m not looking for –”
“It’s dinner, Sunshine. It’s not a proposal. Even you have to eat sometimes, right?”
“Sunshine? I seriously don’t think anybody has called me that before.”
Up ahead Quinn broke away from the rest of the riders and trotted toward them on a heavily muscled black gelding. Despite what Tessa had said, Gil got the impression she kind of liked the nickname. Who would’ve thought? He’d been prepared for her to reach over and slug him in the shoulder.
Quinn hardly slowed down. He gave them a rash of good-natured shit for taking so long, then told them to get a move on. They spent the next hour rounding up the cattle before they could start pushing them toward the big box canyon.
By the time the cattle had settled into their new grazing spot, it was afternoon, and everyone pulled up to break for a late lunch. They dropped their reins, ground tying their horses. Quinn and Boomer unpacked the food from their saddlebags, while Jenna and Sidney passed out bottles of water.
Tessa pushed Gil’s hat up high on her forehead, cracked open a bottle, and sucked down four long, gulping swallows. A few drops of water escaped the corners of her mouth, and Gil couldn’t take his eyes off of the water as it dripped down her neck before disappearing beneath her shirt. Quinn stepped up beside him and bumped him in the shoulder. “Enjoying the view?”
Gil tore his gaze away from Tessa. Quinn had a shit-eating grin on his face. Damn. It’s wasn’t that he really cared if Quinn knew that he was interested in Tessa, but after years of working undercover, it was hard to get used to living a more public life.
In the past, he’d avoided any type of long-term relationships. They didn’t work out when you couldn’t be completely honest. If truth be told, the type of women he’d attracted while undercover, weren’t the type he’d wanted to take home to his mother. But Tessa… Tessa was a new and interesting wrinkle. “None better.”
Quinn slapped two sandwiches in Gil’s hand. Gil walked over, sat on the boulder next to Tessa, and handed over one of the ham and cheese sandwiches.
“Thanks. I’m starving.” She unwrapped her sandwich and took half in her hands. These weren’t your average sandwiches. The bread was homemade and thick, the ham piled high. He had to unhinge his jaw to take a bite.
He tore a section free and tucked it into his cheek. “What’s the verdict on tonight?”
The more he’d watched her on the drive, the more he wanted to get to know her better. There was something about her, beyond the physical, a boldness perhaps, that intrigued him. It showed in the way she drove the cattle and handled the horse even though she’d had limited experience.
She took a bite of her sandwich and wiped away the mayonnaise from the corner of her mouth with her thumb. He captured her wrist, and brought her thumb to his mouth, sucking it clean.
He released her hand. “What do you say?”
Her gaze locked on his. He glanced at her lips, then lower, to the spot where her pulse thrummed at the base of her neck.
“Maybe that’s not such a good idea.”
“Why’s that?”
“Look, I’ve got a kid…”
“You say that like he’s a contagion.”
She gave him a look he didn’t know how to interpret. “Is your having a kid supposed to make me run for the hills?”
She took another bite, chewed it slowly as if chewing on her words. When she swallowed, she said, “I like you.”
“That’s a yes on dinner then?”
“No. It’s not.”
He washed down his sandwich with a big swig of water. “I’m not following you. I’m interested, so I asked you out. I may be reading this incorrectly, but when you say ‘I like you’ I’m thinking you’re interested too. Explain why you’re flashing a giant Do Not Pass Go sign? You have a thing against dating fellow LEO’s?”
“I don’t have anything against dating law enforcement officers.”
Bold, like he’d thought. Tessa wasn’t one to play head games. He liked the fact that she didn’t deny she was interested. “Then what is it?”
“Five more minutes.” Hank—the foreman of the Lazy S, and Jenna’s father—started gathering their trash and stuffing it into his saddlebags. Alby and Santos had already finished eating and were tightening their cinches. Jenna drank the last of her water, and Quinn walked over and caught their horses.
Tessa handed Gil the last of her sandwich as if she’d lost her appetite. “My life is a little complicated at the moment. I don’t need to throw a wrench in it and make it any worse.”
He polished off the rest of her sandwich and brushed the crumbs from his fingers. “It’s not a complication, it’s dinner. Think about it.”
With that said, he gathered up Mr. Ford’s reins, tightened his cinch, and swung up into the saddle. Sierra had wandered about thirty yards away from the other horses, and Boomer trotted over, ponying Sierra behind him.
“Thanks.” Tessa took the reins but was slow to get up off the bolder. Her leg seemed stiff, and she looked a little bowlegged.
“How is your rear?” Boomer asked. “You sore yet?”
“Maybe a little.” Tessa tried to put her foot in the stirrup, but her leg wouldn’t bend enough.
Boomer chuckled.
“Okay,” Tessa said. “Maybe a lot. But it’s nothing I can’t handle.”
Boomer flashed a grin. “Never doubted that for a minute.” Boomer squeezed his horse and trotted off to catch up with Sidney and Jenna.
Tessa gathered her reins, and with a soft groan, that made Gil’s jeans a size too small, put her foot in the stirrup and gingerly settled in the saddle.
The day had been hot, and dirt clung to the sweat on Gil’s skin. Grit ground between his molars every time he closed his mouth. He spat, trying to clear some the grime, but it didn’t seem to do much good.
When they were almost back to the ranch, Boomer and Jenna galloped away on their horses, disappearing behind a rise.
Gil, Tessa, Sidney, and Hank rode four abreast. Alby and Santos brought up the rear about fifty yards back.
Sidney’s horse jigged in place, his head high as if he wanted to run after the other horses. Mr. Ford and Sierra were content to plod along. “You’ll have to excuse them.” Sidney waved her hand, indicating Boomer and Jenna. “They have this little rivalry.”
“I’m surprised you don’t want in on that,” Tessa said
“Oh, no.” Sidney shook her head.
“That’s kind of their thing,” Hank said. “We stay out of the way and let them get it out of their systems.”
A couple of rolling hills ahead, Jenna and Boomer popped into view, the sound of thundering hooves came to them even from that distance. Dual clouds of dust streaked behind them like dusty contrails from a jet’s engines. Moments later they disappeared again, and Gil didn’t see them again until they’d all made it back to the barn.
Boomer was all smiles, and Jenna had a playful scowl. The big blue roan Jenna had been riding blew a cloud of dust from his nostrils, his sides heaving, his nostrils flaring. Boomer’s horse, a sorrel, was tied to a hitching post. The mare lowered her head and cocked a rear leg as she relaxed.
Boomer walked over and lifted Sidney out of the saddle and gave her a big smooch on her lips. “You were right, Irish. Bullet has jetpacks and a turbo drive.”
He grabbed Sidney around the waist and spun her around before setting her down again. “I knew you could find me a horse that could beat Angel.”
“That was a one-off,” Jenna said. “Don’t get used to winning.”
Boomer jogged over to his horse that had managed to pull his rope free. “Never knew you were a sore loser. It’s not a great feeling. But you’re tough, you can deal.”
They all went to work unsaddling their horses, hosing them down, and settling them into their pastures for the night. Mackenzie Nash, Hank’s wife, stepped into the barn, a large wooden spoon in her hand. “Soup’s on if any of you are hungry.”
Hank walked over to her, tugged the USMC baseball cap off her head and kissed her on the lips. It wasn’t quick. It was slow and—
“Ew, gross,” Jenna said. “I would tell you to get a room, but we can all see what happens when you do that.”
Hank grinned and splayed his hand over Mac’s ever-expanding belly. He leaned over, his mouth at his wife’s belly. “Hey, Littlebit. Have you been good to your Mom today?”
“The brat’s been kicking my kidneys all afternoon, that’s how he’s been.”
“She,” Hank said. “She’s been kicking your kidneys.”
“It’s a boy,” Mac insisted.
“We’ll see about that.” Hank kissed his wife again. “Come on everybody, before it gets cold.”
“Uh…” Gil hung back and glanced over at Tessa. “I think Tessa and I are going to head to the diner. Y’all go on ahead.”
Tessa shot him a quick look but didn’t contradict him. Smart woman.
Jenna opened her mouth to say something, but Quinn caught her hand and dragged her toward the big house. Mac took his announcement in stride. “Suit yourself.”
“More for me,” Santos called from the tack room.
Hank, Mack, Quinn, and Jenna headed off to the big house. Santos jogged after them. “Hey, wait up.”
Alby clapped Gil on the shoulder. “You kids have fun. We won’t wait up.” He gave Tessa a wink and strode after the rest of them.
She turned to Gil and said. “I really should say no.” She looked down at herself, her arms held out. “Look at me. I’m filthy.” She ran a hand across her forehead, and held her fingers out, showing him the grime.
He took her fingers and wiped them on the front of his shirt, trapping her hand against his chest. He caught a finger under her chin and tilted her face up and pressed a light kiss to her lips. “It’s the diner. Unless you would prefer my place. You could catch a shower, and I could cook.”
“You cook?”
“I can microwave a hot dog with the best of them. Plus I think there are a couple slices of pizza in the fridge, but they’ve been in there a few days. It might poison you.”
She glanced at his lips, then back at his eyes. “Tempting, but the diner seems less… dangerous.”
Dangerous?
“Wait.” He was a big man, but Tessa didn’t strike him as a woman who was easily intimidated. Gil eased out of her space but didn’t let go of her hand. “Are you afraid of me?”
Though it wasn’t just his size that people found forbidding. He’d be lying if he said his overseas tours of duty and his time undercover hadn’t blackened his soul.
He wasn’t violent.
He wasn’t mean.
But he’d done things he wasn’t proud of and seen things he couldn’t unsee. He would never be the man he was before he’d deployed, and that frightened some people. She of all people should understand that. Even if she’d spent her time in the military in the helo’s and not on the ground, she knew firsthand what the men and women on the ground had faced.
“Should I be afraid?” An open and honest question. Her eyes narrowed. She expected the same honesty in return. He liked that she wasn’t scared to ask the hard questions.
“No.” He didn’t elaborate. He figured the response was self-explanatory.
“A shower and the diner then,” Tessa said. “Unless you want to rescind your offer.”
“Not on your life.”