"I'm going." She sat up and pushed her hair back and looked at me with those hazel eyes, steady and clear. "Same time tonight?"
"Come after dark. Park where you parked."
She nodded. Got up. Walked to the bathroom without looking back.
I pulled my jeans on and grabbed my jacket off the hook and stood at the door for a second listening to the shower run.
You've got it bad, Holt.
Shut up, Ethan.
I went to check the heifers.
EIGHT
Haven
I smelled like Wyatt Holt’s shampoo and I was absolutelydone for.
I snuck out the back gate at the ranch, then I drove my car home—home to Amber, who was definitely going to be home, definitely going to be waiting, and definitely going to have questions. I found her at the kitchen table of our little apartment off Main, peering at me over a bowl of cereal.
Her eyes went to my hair.
To my rumpled clothes.
To thehickey on my neck, which Wyatt had been polite enough to leave there.
Then she pointed her spoon at me, a bit of milk flinging across the table at me.
“That wasnotabout a cow.”
I blew out a breath and dropped my backpack by the front door. “Good morning to you too.”
“Haven Marie Sinclair.”
“Amber Lee Bowen.”
She pushed back from the table, pointing her spoon again. “You’d better sit your butt down.”
“I need a shower?—”
“Your hair is wet.” She said with an accusatory glare. “And I want to knowwhy. And how the shower or a cow could possibly have given you a hickey. Sit.Down.”
I sat down.
She sat across from me and put her elbows on the table and her chin in her hands.
“Does he have a big dick?” she asked.
My eyes widened, but I couldn’t help but smile. “Amber.”
“Don’t act scandalized,” she said. “Ma’am, you aresoexcited. And you should be. And you know I would never, ever judge you?—”
“I know, but you also love gossip.”
She mimed zipping her lips up and throwing away the key. “For you, I will keep any secret.”
I looked at her.
