Page 115 of Pretty Little Scars

“Yeah, Duchess.”

“Probably about a twenty-six.”

“Is that all?”

“Maybe twenty-seven.” He lowers his lips to mine, and I kiss him lightly. “I could use that sandwich, but I don’t want mustard.”

“Good because I’m not sure where the mustard went.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

DARBY

“These veggies are growing so well,” I say to Sylvester, who’s currently rolling around in the dirt like it’s his damn job. The orange cat never fails to make me laugh with his silly antics, and there’s never a time that I’m in the garden without him. I still don’t see much of Tom, but her babies are getting big and mischievous, and I wonder if I can keep that last kitten that hasn’t found a home yet? He’s the smallest, all black, and he has the prettiest green eyes. He could curl up with me while I read and hang out while I make my salves and such in the cabin, which I need to do soon because I just ran out of my scar salve.

Maybe this little kitten is my familiar, since I tend to lean toward the witchy side of things.

And then it occurs to me thatIdon’t have a home to take him to. Not really. Tucker is lending his ranch to me while I continue with my internship, and when the year is over, well, I don’t know what will happen. I definitely don’t want to leave, but Tucker hasn’t invited me to stay, so I shouldn’t assume that this is my home for the long term.

Therefore, it probably wouldn’t be the most responsible thing to keep a kitten.

I sit back on my haunches and rub the back of my hand over my forehead. It’s been two weeks since little Belle was born, and we’ve rolled right into early summer, with warmer days and plenty of sunlight. Harper’s recovering well, and she and the baby are as healthy as can be.

Xander had surgery on his knee last week and is undergoing therapy in Denver, working with the team’s doctors to recover as quickly as possible. Whenever I’ve heard Tucker talk to him on the phone, he sounds damn determined to get back on the ice.

I’m pulling weeds in the potato bed when something slithers next to me, making me scream and jump back, my heart beating a million beats a minute.

“Oh my God!”

I blow out a breath and chuckle when I realize that it’s just a little garden snake. They’re harmless. In fact, there are no snakes in this part of Montana that can hurt me, but still. I don’t like being surprised by anything that slithers.

“What’s wrong?” Tucker’s running my way from the barn, his face pulled tight in a scowl.

“I’m fine.” I stand and stretch my legs. I’ve been pulling weeds for a while. “Sorry about that, false alarm. There was a little snake in the garden, and it startled me.”

“Fuck, baby, my heart can’t take that. I thought the bear was back.” He pats his chest and then smiles down at Sylvester, who’s on his back, belly exposed, sleeping. “He’s still helping?”

“Oh, for sure. He’s convinced this is his job. This isn’t my garden without Sylvester in it.”

I catch myself and bite my lip, frowning down at the ground.

“What’s wrong?” Tucker asks.

“I mean that it’syourgarden, I’m just?—”

“It’s yours, Duchess. As you know, I have no intention of planting anything, or I would have had something like this a long time ago. I’m headed back to the barn, but do you need anything?”

“No thanks. I’m going to make salves in the cabin later, if that’s okay?”

“You can make them in the house.”

“I know, but this way it keeps everything separate. I like the cabin.”

His eyes narrow just a bit, and I think he might march through the gate and kiss the hell out of me—okay, Ihopehe might—but then he nods and pushes his hand through his hair.

“The cabin’s yours to do with what you want, as long as you sleep with me, I don’t mind.”

I smile softly at him. Hell yes, I’m sleeping with him. There’s nowhere else I want to be.