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s your dad doing?”
The girl shrugged. “Cow stuff. Uncle Bo and Uncle Cash help him. We live that way.” She pointed out past the truck. They were too far away to see these uncles, but Charlotte figured they looked like John Wayne, with leathery skin and white hair.
“Cool,” Charlotte said.
“Cool,” the girl mimicked with a smile. “You’re pretty.”
“Thanks. You are, too.”
The girl smiled, her bright blond curls bouncing. “These are my new boots. They have little hearts on them, can you see?” The girl bent down and pointed to the hearts.
“Yep, that’s awesome.”
“Yours don’t have hearts. If you want some, I can take you to the Wrangler store. They have everything. Daddy takes me there for school shopping. But it’s summer right now, so no school shopping until August, he said.”
Charlotte smiled. One, from the girl’s cuteness and willingness to take her into town on her tiny whim despite not being able to pass a tree, and two, because she actually knew where the Wrangler store was. Tripp would probably say she was halfway to being a local.
“I think I’ll take you up on that,” Charlotte said. That’s what you said to kids, right? Whatever it took to make them feel validated? Honestly, Charlotte didn’t know. Her mother was a poor excuse for a parent, and Charlotte always assumed she lacked that necessary thing women had to desire children as a result. But this girl, with her big blue eyes and pink cheeks that had a smattering of smudges from dust, made her want to be kind.
The truck started, kicking up dust as it headed their way.
“Ah, looks like your dad or uncle is coming,” Charlotte said to the girl.
“Yeah.” The girl didn’t spare a glance over her shoulder, already back to looking at Charlotte’s boots.
The truck pulled up and out stepped a dirty cowboy-looking guy with super-dark hair and a sexy swagger in his step. She’d never seen him before in her life, but she’d recognize that attitude anywhere. The man knew he looked good and was prepared to use it to his advantage.
She’d instantly decided how to handle a man like that. Cool politeness. She’d been around enough men with ego trips in L.A.; she didn’t need to inflate anyone’s head further, California, Wyoming, or otherwise.
But then a voice came from the driver’s side of the truck. A voice not attached to the black-haired cowboy.
“Gracie Ray, we’re heading out.”
That voice.
She knew that voice.
Another dusty cowboy came around the front of the truck, only the swagger in his step was more deliberate and sexy and…
“Tripp?” Charlotte choked out.
He stopped a few yards out and frowned. “Charlotte?”
“Daddy!” the girl said, and ran to him.
Daddy?
Mr. Cowboy had a kid? This kid?
Holy shit…
Please tell me he’s not married.
Tripp scooped his daughter up, but never took his eyes off of Charlotte. “What are you doing here?”
“I, ah…” Words deserted her. Probably because Tripp didn’t look happy to see her. And he didn’t look happy that she’d been talking to his daughter, either.
In fact, he looked downright irritated.
