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“Is this all you’ve made?” Dee asks. “I can’t eat pancakes.”
I smile. “The buttermilk pancakes are our breakfast. Didn’t you eat at home?” I raise a brow and hide the delight I feel at the blush on her cheekbones.
Taking my first bite, I sigh, “Mmm, these are so good.” I glance at Derek. “Thank you for making these.”
He smiles, but still looks troubled. “You’re welcome.”
“What do you have planned today?” Dee asks, cutting me out of the conversation as she turns her back.
Derek’s eyes flitter to me before focusing on the annoying woman. “I need to go into town for a couple of hours.”
“Oh good!” she says, excited. “I’ll come with you and we can have lunch before you bring me back here.” She smiles. “Now eat up so we can go. I’m sure Madison doesn’t mind doing the dishes.”
My mouth hangs open before I snap it shut and glare at her.
“Madison isn’t here to do the dishes,” Derek says. “I’ll do the dishes. You can wait.” His reply offers no room for any argument.
All I want right now is to have eaten my breakfast and to disappear somewhere. Anywhere that she isn’t. Anywhere that I don’t have to watch them together. I’m not sure there is anywhere I can go to shut out the jealousy eating away at me.
“You know what?” I toss my napkin onto my plate. “Why don’t you both head out and I’ll do the dishes? I need to think before I start work today anyway,” I offer just wanting them gone.
What really gets to me is the way she fawns all over Derek. He accepts it, and who knows, he may like it. I certainly don’t.
“See, Madison doesn’t mind.” Dee smiles, patting his arm. “I’ll go and find the powder room while you finish off.”
After she’s left I realize I was glaring after her as Derek clears his throat. My eyes land on him as he sits back in his chair, watching me closely—too closely. “I can do the dishes when I return.”
I shake my head. “I’m not going anywhere. It will take less than ten minutes to clean up.” I shrug. “It’s okay. I really don’t mind.” I offer him a small smile. “Thank you for this. I appreciate your thoughtfulness.”
“Hmm,” he mumbles moving from the table. He hesitates at the doorway before he leaves.
My shoulders sag in relief and sadness now that I’m left alone.
Sighing heavily, I listen to the silence as they leave through the front door. I fill the sink with soap and water and gaze out the back window. There is nothing for miles and it’s a view that I don’t think will ever get old no matter how many times I see it.
“Madison?” Hearing my name whispered from behind me, I still and wait, feeling Derek moving in close behind me. He doesn’t touch me, but I can feel the heat from his body as he hovers close. “I’m sorry, Maddie,” he whispers.
I close my eyes savoring everything about this moment and then when I feel his lips lightly kiss my bare shoulder, I shudder with longing. My fingers hurt with how hard I’m holding onto the sink to keep me grounded—to stop me from reaching out to him.
“I’ll see you later.”
All I do is nod because I know there is no way my voice will work right now. I’m emotionally drained, longing for someone who will never be mine. I know he wants me as much as I want him and knowing that just frustrates me.
Sighing, I quickly get the dishes cleaned, dried and put away, and then I’m sitting outside in my favorite rocking chair with my sketchbook in hand, pencils on the side table, along with a fresh coffee.
The sun has risen but where I’m sitting in the shade of the porch there is a light breeze, adding a pleasant chill to the hot day. I’m not sure how long I’ve been sitting enjoying the quiet of ranch life, but before I know it, I have a sketch of the horizon and I smile at the image I’ve brought to life on paper.
I’m proud of my art and love these sketches I’ve been doing to work from when I do the larger image on canvas with paint. These small sketches would look really nice framed.
Hearing the thud of a horse’s hooves on the ground, I glance up and silently groan when I see Geary heading toward me. The man is in his late twenties; he flirts, and I occasionally enjoy the attention, flirting back. I’ve turned him down a few times when he’s offered to take me into town for dinner, and I think he’s figured out why I keep saying no. Nothing has been said but it’s just a feeling.
“Hey gorgeous, do you need a model?” he tips his hat and a cheeky grin stretches at his lips.
The man is sexy as sin and built like a Greek God, but unfortunately, I only want one man, and he isn’t Geary.
He saunters closer and props a hip on the porch railing, blocking my view. “Don’t you think your sketch would be vastly improved with a cowboy on the horizon?”
“Considering the final image is going to be on the wall in Derek’s home, I figured he should be the cowboy in the picture.” I raise a brow and he chuckles.
