Page 46 of Slow Burn

Lyla smiles, that infuriatingly adorable cheery smile of hers, and nods. I turn to walk away.

“Those jeans make your butt look good,” she calls after me.

I stop in my tracks. She gives me no indication of where the hell that came from, but the compliment makes my chest puff out as I turn to face her again.

“Oh yeah?” I ask, flirtation lacing my tone. “I had a feeling you had a thing for hot cowboys.”

She laughs and shrugs. “Don’t let it go to your head, Bossman. I was just testing a theory.”

I shake my head and keep walking, but inside, I feel like I got the most popular girl in school to go on a date with me.

Of course, it’s not a date. Because my dad, Skye and Nash are already seated around the patio table and ribbing me about something stupid I said the other day by the time Lyla saunters over to join us. She’s still dressed in her sweater and cutoffs, but her pale legs disappear into brown western boots and god fucking help me.

Lyla Morgan is every cowboy’s wet dream.

She’s definitely mine.

Chapter 19

Lyla

I thought Beck in black leather chaps was hot? I was fucking kidding myself. Because the sight of Beck standing at the grill with his jeans and t-shirt partially covered by an apron is enough to make me drop my panties right here. I steel myself as I spot the rest of the Hollis family.

“Well, look who finally decided to join us for dinner,” Wade booms as I near the group. They’re seated around a wooden picnic bench covered in a red checkered table cloth. Skye and Nash both offer me friendly smiles.

“It smelled so good, I couldn’t resist,” I say, but I wonder if I can even eat any of it. As if reading my mind, Beck looks up from the barbecue, holding a flipper in one hand.

“I have a vegan patty here for you,” he says.

I don’t know why, but something about him doing these little things for me makes my chest pinch. The carton of oat milk he makes sure is stocked in the fridge, bringing coconut whipped cream for my dessert, going out of his way to get me a vegan patty. None of my other boyfriends back in the city could even remember I didn’t eat meat.

They’d make a reservation for dinner at the fanciest steakhouse, nothing but cows on the menu. Or, the worst one, the guy who thought it would be nice to get me a birthday cake with cream cheese icing. I couldn’t eat the dessert at my own goddamned birthday party. I used to shrug it off, and make excuses like it’s the thought that counts.

Having Beck remember and go out of his way to make sure I have something I can eat? It does something to me that it shouldn’t.

Beck turns back to the grill, and flips my vegan burger patty, and then he switches his flipper out for a different one that he uses to flip the beef burgers. His biceps flex, the muscles rippling like cords under his tanned skin as he methodically turns them over.

My cheeks burn, and I blame it on the abnormally hot June we’re having. Critter bounds around the yard, sniffing the grass happily, as I sit next to Skye. She wraps an arm around my shoulders, hugging me into her briefly.

“I’m so glad you came, Ly,” she says.

“Me too,” I answer, picking up the pitcher of sangria and pouring it into my glass. I hope it’s strong, since I have to sit here watching the grill master, with the sleeves of his t-shirt accentuating his thick biceps, forearms flexing as he flips each patty.

He’s wearing an apron for fuck’s sakes. I kind of wish I could see him in nothing but that. It’s the same kind of fantasy I’ve had about his chaps.

“So, how was your day, Lyla. Do anything exciting in the city?” Wade asks me.

I get the feeling that their weekly family dinner has a structure, and they start with this, everyone catching up and sharing any news. I like that they’re including me in it, and a warm feeling spreads behind my ribs.

“It was good,” I answer. “And no, nothing exciting.”

Even though I didn’t actually go to the gyno, I don’t particularly want to talk about anything related to that experience with everyone over sangria and barbecue. But I notice Beck flash a sidelong glance in my direction, the corner of his mouth twitching for a split second.

“It must be nice going back though, after some time away,” Skye chimes in.

I nod, swallowing a sip of my drink. The white wine is crisp and light, and it’s flavoured with frozen peach slices. I wonder if that was also Beck’s doing.

“Yes and no,” I answer truthfully. “It was also really nice to come back.”