Page 50 of September’s Cowboy Travis

“Good.” He latched the trailer and checked it once before stepping back. “If Morgan wants the ledgers, tell her to call me.”

“I will.”

Beau climbed into the truck, and a moment later the trailer pulled away from the curb with the Clydesdales shifting quietly inside.

Travis watched him go. “Do you think he has any idea what he's volunteering for?”

“No.”

“Should we warn him?”

I took Travis's hand. “Absolutely not.”

He grinned and led me toward his truck.

The sun was dropping behind the mountains by the time we reached the ranch. I went upstairs to finish packing a few things to head back to Bozeman while Travis checked the horses.

My overnight bag sat open on the bed. I put my laptop charger inside, added two shirts, then stopped when I realized my toothbrush wasn't there.

It was still in the bathroom. I left it.

Travis came upstairs a few minutes later and leaned against the bedroom doorway. His gaze moved from me to the bag.

“When are you back?” He didn’t ask if I was coming back or how long I’d be gone. Just when I’d be back.

“Thursday.”

“Good.”

I zipped the bag.

Travis looked toward the bathroom. “Are you forgetting anything?”

“My toothbrush is staying.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes.”

He crossed the room. “At this rate, you're going to end up living here.”

I hooked my fingers through his belt loops and pulled him closer. “I haven't decided yet if I'm staying in Mustang Mountain forever.”

His eyebrows lifted.

I smiled. “But I'm keeping the cowboy.”

“That’s one lucky cowboy.” He kissed me, slow and familiar, one hand settling at my waist. When he pulled back, he didn't let me go. “I love you, Kaycee.”

There was no hesitation in it. No joke afterward to make the words easier to take back.

I touched his face. “I love you too.”

His mouth curved, and he kissed me again. When he finally lifted his head, his gaze went to the overnight bag sitting open on the bed. “You know, you could stop packing that thing every few days.”

I looked at him. “Is that your subtle way of asking me to move in?”

“I wasn't trying to be subtle.”