Page 36 of Peaches & Pistols

I mean, it wouldn’t hurt to make sure she has everything she needs. It’s just a few steps in and out, nothing to feel guilty about.

Her backpack’s nowhere in sight. Did she finally unpack?

I dare to open a few dresser drawers and am pleasantly surprised to see them full of her and Everly’s belongings.

Cool relief washes over me. My anxiety over her leaving has faded over the weeks, but the fear still lingered, until now. Maybe she’s here to stay.

God I hope so. She’s simplified my life so much, I don’t know what I’d do without her.

Something tugs in my chest thinking about Mia disappearing from our lives, and it has nothing to do with her domestic expertise.

My phone rings, and I dart out of her room. Even if it’s her calling, she won’t know I was in her room. What the fuck is wrong with me?

Thank fucking god. For once, James calling is a welcome distraction.

“What?”

“Hello to you too, dick.”

My best friend’s smug voice carries too loudly through the speaker. I don’t say anything. If he wants to talk to me, he’ll get to it.

“Such a ray of sunshine, Clark. Just thought you might want to know your girl’s a natural.”

“Harper? At what? She’s supposed to be at school.”

“She is at school, moron. I’m talking about Mia.”

“What are you on about? She’s not my girl.”

But not for the first time in passing weeks have I wondered what it’d be like to have a nuclear family. To give Harper what I so desperately missed after Dad died.

Not that the picture my mind paints includes Mia. Because it doesn’t. Some of the time.

“Suuuuure. Reid had her tack up her own mount today. Pretty thing did it without complaint, and nearly perfectly. She looked damn good on that horse.”

The growl that rumbles in my chest is alarming. My lizard brain doesn’t like James looking at her that way. I have no business looking at her that way either, but my amygdala begs to differ. Loudly.

Yet another reason I make myself scarce when the kids aren’t home as a buffer.

“Why are you telling me this?” I try to ask as disinterested as possible.

“Just thought you might want to know Connor’s stable manager couldn’t keep his eyes off her.”

Guess I’m not the only one…difference is, I feel like a dirty old man lookin’.

When I got her legal documents, I saw her date of birth, and simple mental math told me I’m eleven years older than her.

The stable manager at Lucky Spurs Ranch came on after Connor moved into his role as farrier full-time. He’s a decent enough looking guy. Much closer to her age, not that I’ve given it any obsessive thought.

I don’t want her fending off unwanted male attention when the ranch is supposed to be a safe space for her. Might have to tag along with her the next time she wants to go riding.

“That all?” My patience is growing thinner the longer I think about another man with my nanny.

“Yep. You coming to Sunday dinner?” he asks.

“Plannin’ on it.”

“You bringing your girls?” My girls…that sounds way too good.