I meet Parker’s eyes, laughing as he stalks to me.
“Morning, Firefly.” He doesn’t hesitate to pull me into his arms and plant a searing kiss on my lips.
“Morning,” I murmur against him.
“Sleep good?” he asks.
“Better than I have in years.”
He kisses me again, but it’s short and sweet. “You got plans today?”
“Mom should be coming home tomorrow. I was going to go to the house and clean up for her. Make sure everything is in place. Get her some groceries.”
“You’re a good daughter, Laike Sheppard,” he praises.
“I don’t know about that.” I run my hands down his biceps. “Speaking of moms. How is Maggie?”
“Stubborn as ever. But she’s doing okay. She was diagnosed early, so they’ve been able to help maintain her symptoms better, but unfortunately, it isn’t something that will be cured. She just takes it one day at a time.”
I frown, my heart going out to his mom. She was always so sweet. His dad, on the other hand, I was not a fan of.
“You think she will ever move back?” I ask.
“I don’t know. I think a part of her doesn’t want anyone to pity her. Plus the fact that my dad ran out on her, she thinks everyone will say ‘I told you so’. Especially Penny and Ruthie.”
“They’re her sisters. They love her.” I step away, moving into the kitchen. “Isn’t she lonely?”
“She has some friends in Wimberly Cove.” He shrugs. “But deep down, I think she misses the ranch.”
“Then I guess we will just have to convince her,” I declare.
“We?” He lifts a brow.
“It’s you and me, right?” I sass.
His smile wraps me like a warm blanket. “Damn right, baby.”
Chapter forty-one
Laiken
I swipe a rag over the counter, finishing the last bit of cleaning. Mom should be stocked and ready to go when she gets home. I know she’ll be exhausted and have to be back to work the following day.
I sneak a glance at Trace, who’s playing on the front porch, but I do a double take when I spot headlights coming down the road. A familiar Ford is racing down the street.
I quickly move to the door and swing open the screen. “Trace, I need you to come inside, please.”
He must notice my tone because he doesn’t argue. I usher him inside and lock the door behind me.
“What’s wrong?” He presses. “I thought you said I could play on the porch? I had the light on.”
Sweet boy.
“Sorry, bud, I need you inside.” I give him a squeeze.
Tires screech, the truck coming to a jolting halt in the driveway. Trace frowns, but I guide him away from the entryway.
“Laiken!” My name is bellowed from the yard, that same angry bass in his voice.
