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He points a spatula at me and grins. “I don’t wrestle bulls. I ride them. And besides, you’ve never actually seen me ride.”
Somehow, he makes that look sexy, too.
“I actually did see you ride in Vegas.” I smirk. “And I saw a few videos.”
His grin widens, and he motions to the dirty kitchen. “I’ll have you know this is organized chaos.”
I glance around the kitchen at the eggshells, a butter wrapper, and, somehow, flour, along with a whisk he never actually used. “I don’t think you know what organized means.”
He tips his head back in a laugh that crinkles the corners of his eyes.
I’ve started noticing there are different versions of his laugh. There are the quiet ones, the surprised ones, and he also has one that he saves for when he’s caught off guard. That one might be my favorite. I’m learning all these things about him, and I realize that I love it. I love figuring him out.
I was genuinely sad when I left Vegas and didn’t think we’d ever see each other again. And somehow this feels like a Christmas gift. Something I’m treasuring. Because he feels like a gift. When he told me about his family yesterday, I couldn’t believe it. How can they not see how great he is? How can they just want to take advantage of him like that?
By the time breakfast is finished, we’re eating scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, and drinking more coffee.
We talk about everything. The first jobs we ever had. I told him about Walker and how much he means to my brothers and me. About Tessa, the ranch manager who is so much more than that to all of us and whom I love so much.
The dumbest injuries we’ve ever gotten. He has me beat for sure.
My first speeding ticket was from Sheriff Matthews, who still has it out for me to this day. He gives me the look every time he sees me in town. I know he’d love to get me again for speeding.
The worst movie we’ve ever seen. I have a list of them with verified reasons. I am in the film industry after all. I have big opinions on all things TV and film.
The best meal we’ve ever eaten. I’ve eaten at several Michelin-starred restaurants, but nothing holds a candle to the home-cooked mom-and-pop restaurants I’ve stumbled upon while out in random production areas. We both agree we love simpler cooking.
The conversation never stalls. There’s never that awkward moment where someone feels like they should fill the silence.
The silence just...fits. Like us. The thought startles me enough that I immediately shove it away.
Ty glances toward the window. “You busy today?”
I laugh. “I’ve got a pretty packed schedule of absolutely nothing.”
His smile turns almost mischievous. “Perfect. I’ve got plans for us if you’re up for it.”
“What kind of plans?” I ask, curiously.
“If I told you, they’d ruin the surprise,” he says with a smirk.
“That sounds suspicious. Don’t you have to work? I thought you and Tucker had an arrangement?” I tease.
“I have it all covered.” He grins. “Get ready and bundle up warm.”
An hour later, we’re bundled in coats, scarves, knit hats, and gloves as we crunch through fresh snow toward the barn. His gloved hand slides into mine.
The cold nips at my cheeks, but the sky is impossibly blue, and the whole ranch sparkles as if someone had dusted it with diamonds overnight.
We walk into the barn and Jack’s leaning up against the wall, the collar on his black coat turned up, a toothpick in his mouth. “What’s up, slackers?”
I laugh. “Whatever, Jack.” I give him a hug, and he returns it.
Jack is my oldest brother, and he’s tough, but tender. He left as soon as he could and joined the Navy. All of us tried to escape our father one way or another. I remember one time Jack telling me that SEAL training was easy compared to the brutal punishments our father gave us. That made the training easier for him, and that horrified me. We’ve all been through it.
Jack and Ty disappear down the stalls, and Jack goes over a list of things he needs done today. Ty nods, takes the list, and tucks it into his jacket pocket. “Got it.”
Jack claps him on the back and nods as he heads out into the cold air.
