AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I usher her forward. “I don’t know where we’d be without it.”
When we get to the kitchen, Dakota freezes.
“It’s a chef’s kitchen,” she breathes.
“It is. My little sister designed it.” I step inside but Dakota lingers in the doorway, admiring the expensive stainless-steel appliances Emmy Lou insisted on. “She likes to bake, too.”
“Shame.” Her soft tone is wistful. Slowly, she follows me in. “This big kitchen just sits empty all these months.”
I open the huge fridge and curse at the meager contents. Moldy bags of salad, a ham steak, and a twenty-four pack of Miller High Life. On the large steel counter is a family-sized can of green beans.
I curse again when I see the joint sitting in the ashtray.
Fucking Wyatt.
I turn back to Dakota, and my gaze falls to her stomach. Even though we had dinner at Stede’s, I ask, “You want something to eat?” Not that there’s much I can make for her.
She shakes her head. “No. I’m fine.”
I frown at the strain on her face. She’s not fine. Her dark eyes dart around the kitchen like she’s looking for an exit, and there’s a slight tremble to her shoulders. Something has her on edge.
“Can you bake with one arm?” I ask in a low voice.
Dakota glances toward the steel countertop. Another wave of rage crashes over me at the sight of her bruised jaw.
“I don’t know,” she says in a small voice. “I haven’t tried.”
I place a palm on the cool countertop, making a mental note to get this kitchen clean for her. “You could try here.” I want that spark of fire back in her dark brown eyes. “This giant kitchen’s empty. Waiting for your chocolate cake.”
She shies away from me. “I changed the recipe. It isn’t as good.”
“Bullshit.”
I never eat sweets. But with Dakota, I remember every pastry, every cupcake, she ever brought me. Her sweets are legendary.
She flinches. “I get the cast off in six weeks. I’ll try then. When I’m in my own place.”
Alarm speeds through my senses. Whatever happened to her took place in a kitchen. I’m 100 percent sure of it.
I search her eyes, hating the shame I see there. Hating how she’s acting like I’m a stranger she can’t wait to shake.
Still, tonight’s not the night to press the issue. She needs sleep. Her body needs to heal from the hell she’s just been through.
“Upstairs,” I tell her, pointing at the stairs just off the kitchen. “This way.”
Her shell-shocked eyes clear and without speaking, she follows me upstairs.
The attic isn’t as much of an attic as an entire living space. We renovated it our second year at the ranch, when I was sick of living in dust and disrepair. It has a kitchenette and an island in the center of the room, with two bedrooms on opposite sides. Built-in skylights across the arched, planked ceiling let in the Montana sky.
“This is…uh, where I stay.”
“You live up here?” Dakota roves her eyes around the space. “Like a permanent Phantom of the Opera?”
I bite back a smile. “Ever since we opened.”
She tilts her head. “And it’s just you here?”
I rough a hand over my scalp, trying to ignore the tug of her plump lip between her teeth. “Just me and Keena.”
