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“Daddy!” Gracie yelled, running through the house to come give him a hug.
His heart stuttered. “Hey, baby girl, what are y’all doing home?”
Bo and Cash came in behind her.
“We got through dinner and realized she didn’t have her skates.”
“I’m going to go get them,” she said, and ran to her room.
Bo and Cash exchanged a glace, then focused on Tripp.
“So…what are you up to?” Bo asked, looking over the kitchen table that was set nicely, and yeah, he may have lit the one candle he could find.
“Nothing,” Tripp said.
Cash raised a brow. “It’s okay, Tripp. Sometimes I need to unwind and”—he looked extra long at the candle, then at Tripp’s casserole—“pamper myself.”
“Jesus Christ,” Tripp grumbled.
Bo just sucked air between his teeth and shook his head. “Nah, I don’t think that’s what’s going on here.” He squatted down to look under the table. Then he opened the big pantry door and looked in it.
“What are you doing?” Tripp asked.
“Oh, I’m just looking for the girl you’re hiding,” Bo said confidently.
“I’m not hiding anything, I’m just cooking a meal,” Tripp defended.
“In your fancy Woody apron?” Bo said.
Tripp looked down at himself. Gracie had gotten into Toy Story after it came on TV last year and thought Tripp’s being a cowboy and Woody’s being a cowboy was too much of a coincidence to go uncelebrated, so Cash found this gem online and ordered it. Which yeah, made him look like an idiot, but his baby girl liked it, so he wore it.
“Why don’t you all head out?” Tripp suggested. Firmly.
“Hustle up, kiddo, your daddy is kicking us out,” Bo called.
“I’m not kicking yo
u out, you just don’t want the roller rink to get too busy.”
Bo and Cash exchanged looks again, and yeah, even Tripp didn’t buy it. It was Cheyenne, Wyoming—nothing got busy around there. Unless the rodeo was in town.
“I can’t find my skates!” Gracie yelled from her room.
The doorbell rang, and Tripp’s anxiety ratcheted up another notch. This was not going the way he’d planned. Not at all.
Cash nudged Bo, and the two headed for the hall. “Let’s…give him some space.”
“Damn,” he mumbled, hustling to the front door. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure Cash, Bo, and Gracie were all still out of sight.
He opened the front door and—
“Holy shit,” he breathed, and all the blood in his body rushed straight to his dick. Charlotte stood in his doorway in nothing but a tiny pair of cutoff shorts, cowgirl boots, and a sexy red bra made of nothing more than a scrap of lace and a prayer.
“I was going for the cowgirl fantasy,” she said with a smile. “But say the word and I can run home and change if you’re more into the naughty schoolgirl thing.”
Oh, he was into it, and he’d take a rain check on the naughty schoolgirl thing, too. He was ready to kiss the breath out of her when tiny footsteps came bounding down the hallway.
“Here, put this on,” he said, grabbing a black-and-red flannel shirt from the hook near the door and thrust it at Charlotte.
