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“I don’t know.”
“You’re getting attached,” Bo said. “Look, all I’m saying is that fighting for something, someone, is noble. Especially if you’re willing to go the distance. But you’re setting yourself up with a woman who makes you feel—”
“Happy,” Tripp said.
Bo gave him a sad smile. “I hear you. But just think about just how deep you’re getting. Because you’re a fighter, brother, but you’re not a chaser.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means Charlotte is here, on your turf, on your terms. You’ll fight for her while she’s here, but you won’t chase her when she leaves.”
That was the stupidest thing Bo had ever said. And totally not true…right?
Tripp shook his head before it imploded from this conversation. “I’m fine. Can’t I just enjoy what I have while I have it?” For once, he just wanted a woman to keep looking at him like Charlotte did. Like he was a man. Like she cared. Not for any other reason than that she wanted him in return. Women looked at him all the time, but there was always an agenda. Not with Charlotte.
Because she’s not permanent…which means she can’t have an agenda.
Shit.
He closed his eyes for a moment and when he opened them, he saw the two coffee mugs on the counter staring back at him.
Two.
The sense of loneliness faded just enough to realize he had a mug for a woman.
His woman.
No, not his. But she was…something.
And she was waiting for him.
Getting in deep or not didn’t matter at the moment. He’d never put Gracie at risk, and he promised himself not to get too attached. One of the former was a promise he could always keep.
Bo shook his head. “Enjoy it while you can, sure. I’m just looking out for you.”
“Says the man who has a new woman every week.”
“Exactly, so you know that I know attachment when I see it, and I’m telling you, just be careful.”
Tripp grabbed the coffee mugs and headed down the hallway, assuring himself that he was only a little attached…
…
There was a muffled sound coming from somewhere beyond the dark sleep Charlotte was currently rolling in.
“Mrph…mrpphhhh….”
She frowned even with her eyes closed and couldn’t place the sound. Like sweaty palms gently smacking glass.
She creaked open an eye and saw a horse snout pressing against the big open bedroom window.
“Jesus Christ!” she screeched, and yanked the covers up to her chin.
Gracie was atop the horse and laughing, and Cash was trying to steer the horse back. Thankfully neither of them noticed Charlotte, so she grabbed the closest clothing she could find and tugged it on. Then quickly shut the curtain.
“Good morning,” Tripp said, walking in with two mugs. He stopped, and his jaw tightened. “Now that’s a sight.”
She glanced down at herself. Whoops. She was wearing his T-shirt. “Sorry, I just grabbed the first thing I could. I saw a horse and Gracie and…”
