Page 30 of Sunrise & Serenity

The warmth of the scene triggers a wave of homesickness, which makes no sense. Why the hell would I feel homesick when I’m already living here? I don’t. It’s the rodeo I miss. The road. The competition. The place where I know exactly who I am. That’s what I’m planning on getting back to.

I scan the space for Taryn.

And Sage.

Neither is here. Still, I swear I can almost feel Sage’s presence. A buzz of energy I’ve only ever felt the instant before getting on the back of a bull I’ve never ridden—unsure whether I’ll last eight seconds or end up in the dirt, but with a deep-seated need to find out.

Quinn glances up and spots me loitering in the doorway. “Ah, a rare dinner appearance by the middle son. Call the paparazzi.”

When I glare at him, his brows shoot up. “Still too soon?”

My middle finger twitches, along with my lips. “Smart-ass.”

It’s too damn hard to stay mad at my youngest brother. Even when he pokes at sore spots. Dragging a hand over the back of my neck, I step into the room.

“Why’s Quinn a smart-ass?” Taryn asks from behind me.

I turn, my attention snagging on Sage, who’s lingering in the doorway just like I was. Her dark hair is loose, tumbling thick and silky over her shoulders. And she’s changed outfits. The new jeans might have a more practical cut than her first pair, but they hug every curve they’re meant to. The tailored shirt from this morning has been replaced by a soft, lightweight flannel, unbuttoned to reveal a tank top underneath.

Before I can stare too long at the way the thin fabric clings to the swell of her breasts, I force myself to focus on my sister.

“We all know he’s generally a smart-ass. But what’s the particular reason this time?”

“Hey!” Quinn interjects.

I shake my head at the pair of them. “Just talking shit as usual.”

Without looking at Sage again, I turn away and join Dad at the stove. “Anything I can help with?”

“Almost done.” He opens the oven door and pulls out a tray of roasted vegetables. “Go sit down, son.”

The smell wafting around me makes my mouth water, so I don’t argue. I take a vacant seat at the end of the table, though when Sage pulls out the one across from me, I realize I’ve made a mistake.

A few minutes later, there’s a full spread set out before us, and I have to admit, it beats the canned stew I would have cooked up back at the cabin.

When Dad sits down, Sage smiles at him.

“Thanks so much for letting me stay for dinner.”

He grins back. “It’s nice to see the table full again. With River away and Holden and Sterling missing most of the time, it’s a bit too quiet around here.”

I scoop up a spoonful of vegetables and dump them onto my plate before passing the tray to Sage.

“River doesn’t work on the ranch?” she asks Dad as she fills her own plate.

“He does. But he’s down in New Mexico for now, starting colts for a rancher we know. He’ll be back soon, so you’ll get to meet him.”

“Sounds like you’ll have a full house.”

“First time in a long time.”

Guilt lodges in my throat. Most years, I only made it home once. Sometimes not even that. It always seemed easier to stay on the road. Keep my head in the game. Not break the rhythm of the season.

The scrape of serving spoons against platters pulls me back to the table. Everyone has started eating, and I join them. For a few minutes, the room is quiet as we set about demolishing the meal.

Eventually, Dad props his elbow on the table. “What kind of photography did you do in New York, Sage?”

She smiles at him. “I did fine art and conceptual mainly. Some editorial.”