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“Yes. That’s an amazing idea!”
I feel relieved she agrees.
“I danced all through high school and college. I would love to help. I mean, if you want me to,” she adds.
“Oh my God, yes. I was gonna ask if you’d like to be a part of it. I think it’s going to take some planning and time, but it’ll be worth it. I haven't run it by my mom yet. I want to get the details together before pitching it to her, but now that you’re on board, I think it will be a lot easier. Mom knows I can’t dance. Or paint. And I suck at sports.”
She chuckles. “I love the idea. I really think the kids will too. It’ll keep them occupied and allow them to learn new things.”
“Yes. Exactly. It will provide opportunities for those who don’t get to typically do things like that too,” I say, my thoughts lingering on the few foster kids we have. I want them to have a good experience, especially after everything they’ve been through at such a young age. While I can’t imagine what that’s like, I want to be a positive light in their lives.
Lacey’s eyes soften as if she can read my mind, but before she can say anything, the oven beeps. I stand, feeling the tequila rush through my veins, and take it out. Sloppily, I cut it in half and put it on plates. We grab our food and drinks, then go to the living room.
“I might’ve made our beverages a little too strong, but I think it’s time for round two,” she says when I land on the Hallmark channel. Before I can reply, she’s standing to do just that.
When she returns, she hands me a glass, and we dive into our food.
The heroine and the hero in the movie are as cheesy as our pizza. It’s more than obvious the two have an underlying attraction, but they’re too stubborn to admit it.
“Oh look, it’s kinda like you and Grayson.”
I whip my head toward her and hurry and chew the bite I just took. “Don’t think so!”
She arches her brow. “Sure ’bout that?”
“Absolutely. He’s annoying. Not my type. And an asshole. I’m happy with my nonexistent dating life at the moment, thank you very much.”
“Mm-hmm,” she responds.
“I am! I mean, I haven’t seen anyone since college, and even then, it was casual dating and nothing serious. I have high standards. You’ve seen my parents,” I remind her.
“This is true, but there’s still hope for you. Aren’t there two new ranch hands? Either one of them single?”
“Oh yeah, Luke and Payton. They’re as single as a dollar bill, but even so, I’m not interested. Though, Luke has flirted with me. He’s just not my type either.”
“’Cause ranch hands aren’t your type?”
“Exactly,” I say with a sigh.
“If you change your mind, there’s always Grayson,” she taunts.
I groan. “I mean, full disclosure, I am attracted to him.” I point a finger in her face. “Don’t you dare tell anyone I said that, but I could never go there, not after what happened between us all those years ago.”
Lacey gives me a sad expression. “I get it. But honestly, you should confront him about it. So then he at least knows why you hate him.”
Meeting her eyes, I shake my head. “I can’t. It’d be way too humiliating, and then the last thing I want is his pity or worst—excuses for why he did what he did. I’d rather just write him off and pretend he doesn’t exist.”
She lifts her drink and makes a toast. “For all the single ladies who are DTF but won’t settle for just any dick.”
I snort. “Now, that’s something I’ll drink to any day of the week.”
Chapter Five
MACKENZIE
I wake up in the morning feeling like complete crap. Lacey’s snuggled up on the couch with a blanket, and all I can think about right now is coffee and food. Since she drank too much to drive home, she stayed over.
I plop down by her feet, and she stirs.
“Why did we drink tequila, out of all things?” she mutters with a groan.
I’m blaming you for this raging hangover I’m dealing with right now.”
She lies back down and covers her face. “I’m blaming me too. It was such a bad idea.”
“I think I need some breakfast. Want to go to the B&B with me?”
Lacey forces herself to sit up and smiles. “Yes. God yes.”
On the way to the B&B, we’re both silent. After drinking a half bottle of tequila, we’re miserable. At some point, it tasted like water, so we kept going until midnight.
We mosey up the porch steps, and I can already smell the crispy bacon.
“If food doesn’t work, they say to just start drinking again,” I tell her as she follows me.
“I may never have tequila again after last night,” Lacey admits.
