Page 47 of Kicking Up Dust

“He’s here with me. Everything alright? His girl okay?” Maddox asks, and my stomach flips at the fact that’s his first concern… though he could stand to learn my name, I think.

“Blair’s completely fine. Where is ‘here,’ son?”

“East pasture.”

“You’re not doing pest control or anything like that, are you?”

“Nah, hay baling. If you’re coming out, she’ll be fine. There’s no shade though.”

“We won’t be staying long,” she tells him. “See you in a minute.”

Colt is getting out of a tractor when we get there and lord have mercy, is he sweaty and filthy. I have to remind myself that his mother is sitting beside me and that this newfound desire for sweaty men is gross.

Granted, it’s not just sweaty men. Maddox, Tyler, Jamie, and the rest of the ranch hands are also very sweaty and filthy, but my vagina pays them no mind whatsoever.

“Everything okay?” he’s asking immediately, pulling open the passenger door before June even puts the truck in park.

There’s neat lines of dead grass everywhere, Maddox in a gigantic machine that seems to be eating it, Jamie on a four-wheeler behind him, and a big trailer off to the side with gigantic rolls of hay on it.

“Everything’s fine,” I promise him with a small smile, turning his hat around on his head so I can read it, and then urgently turning it back around before his mother can.

I look better bent over

He’s grinning so hard his dimples are popping, stepping up on the running board to lean into the cab and kiss my forehead.

“You’re so pretty.”

“Isn’t she?” June agrees, which has me blushing. I’m not used to such undivided attention. “We need your wallet.”

Colt doesn’t ask a single question. He just pulls it from his back pocket, opens it up to take a twenty out and hands me the wallet, pocketing the twenty for himself.

“Fending for ourselves for lunch?” he asks June.

“Yep. Or Maddox can let go of someone to make lunch for everyone. If it’s one of the hands, they have to make it in the bunkhouse with their messy selves. Or Tate. I don’t want her in my kitchen either, she’s liable to burn the place down, God love her.”

Colt grins again. “I’ll see if we can get Bailey to go. She’s the best cook after you.”

“You need the best cook to make you sandwiches?” I ask him with a raised brow.

“Nah, but at least she’ll wash her hands first. Where are y’all headed?”

“Billings. Gonna book Blair a pregnancy massage and get her a special pillow to sleep with.”

She doesn’t mention that I’ve been having issues with my joints, which I appreciate. Colt would likely insist on dropping everything and taking me to the doctor if he knew, even though it’s a very classic side effect of him knocking me up.

“Get a bunch of those cinnamon things while you’re there. Some to bring home, too,” he tells me with a nudge. I had them yesterday when I went to the mall and mentioned last night how good they were.

“I don’t need a bunch of sweets.”

“Colt!” Jamie yells, causing him to look up. The bales are piling up.

“Gotta get back to work, but I’ll see you later. Have fun. Mama⁠—”

“I’ll make sure we get some, son. If she doesn’t eat them, I’m sure someone will.”

“Thank you. Bye, pretty girl,” he says, kissing my forehead again. “Please drive safely, Mama.”

June just rolls her eyes as Colt closes the door and runs back over to the tractor he’d been getting out of when we arrived. She pulls away, getting back on the dirt path that runs through the ranch.