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As if on cue, Gracie came running through the house, ready to go. He never knew his entire world would be puttering around on such small feet.
“That’s why I’m here to help,” Bo said.
“Me, too,” Cash said.
“Yeah, we’re just a house full of rednecks.”
“Lot worse things to be,” Bo said, taking another bite of apple.
Tripp rolled his eyes.
“Well…” Bo slapped Tripp’s back. “Have a great day. By the way, you still have cow shit on your boot and glitter in your hair.”
Tripp took a deep breath and looked in the mirror. The shit was an occupational hazard and the glitter was from Gracie demonstrating her questionable hairstyling techniques on him with sparkly hair spray.
Forget it. He’d shower later.
“You’re not staying?” Tammy Jones said loudly from her perch behind the refreshments table. She was nice enough. Divorced, had a daughter the same age as Gracie, and was always helping out with the troop, just like several of the other women there. All of whom gave Tripp casseroles, cookies, and flirty gestures from fairly regularly.
Not that he was interested.
“Yes, ma’am, gotta run a couple errands.” He shifted his focus to Gracie, who was settling in to the troop meeting. “See you in an hour, baby.”
Gracie waved and went back to chatting with her friends.
Tammy must have hustled, because she headed Tripp off at the exit, batting her lashes and flicking her hair. Tripp knew what was coming next. Not because he thought he was hot shit, but because he was aware he was a single man with a child, and that often put him into settings full of women. Women who were, more often than not, sadly, also single parents.
“You have plans for this weekend?” Tammy asked. “There’s that new movie playing at the drive-in.”
The drive-in at the edge of town was the place where teenagers used to escape and make out. He looked at Tammy. Tammy looked right back at him, and he knew what that kind of look meant. Didn’t matter, though. He wouldn’t risk falling in love with a woman and watching her walk out on him and Gracie. They didn’t need that shit. If her own mama could leave them, anyone could. He’d never let that happen to his daughter again. Even if it made Bo right, and Tripp was doomed to the saddest social life in town.
“Summer is my busiest time on the ranch. I’m afraid I won’t be getting to many movies.”
“But you’re still going to be part of the nut fry later this summer, right?” There was a hint of a whine in her voice.
“Did you say nut fry?” Lucy France said, coming over to stand on Tripp’s other side.
He shifted away and cursed under his breath. They had him sandwiched and blocked from leaving.
Lucy pushed her breasts out a little. “I look forward to that party every year, you know?”
The Montgomery family had been hosting the town “nut fry” for the past ten years. Hosted on the part of Montgomery land that butted up against the local bar in town, ranches pitched in the food, and local vendors sold their wares.
Tripp took over the ranch, and everything that went with running it, a few years ago when his dad passed away. Including the nut fry.
“Still a couple weeks off yet, ladies, but yes, the nut fry is in the works.” He gave his best smile and tried to subtly reach for the door handle.
“You work so hard out on that ranch,” Tammy said with a bit of a pout. “You should really take a break. Like a weekend day.”
“Wish I could, ma’am, but cows don’t know weekends from weekdays.”
He touched the tip of his hat with one hand and made blessed contact with the door handle with the other.
“You ladies have a good day.” Feeling both Tammy’s and Lucy’s eyes bore into his back, he adjusted his Stetson and stepped out into the summer sunshine of Cheyenne, Wyoming. His home. Gracie’s home. Their life was just fine as it stood.
Although… Tripp did the mental math of the last time he’d brought a woman into his bed and ran a hand over his scruffy jaw.
Too long.
