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Macie woke with a splitting headache. She’d had exactly one drink last night, but after getting dropped off by Barb, finding Holt sitting on the porch waiting for her had sure made it hard to fall asleep.
Holt had denied that he was waiting up for her.
Macie had rolled her eyes and moved past him while he held the door open for her. She strode down the hall and went into her bedroom. There was no way she was going to have another late-night conversation with him. Not after that dance they’d shared—a dance that had put her every sense on alert, and some senses she hadn’t wanted to admit feeling.
Ruby mumbled something and turned over in her sleep, earning Macie an elbow in the arm in the process.
Macie turned on her side, giving Ruby more room to spread out. Though how much room did a three-year-old really need? It was still early enough in the morning that the sounds of the house were quiet. But if Macie didn’t get up soon, she’d be late getting breakfast for the men. Not that they couldn’t be on their own for one morning—it was the weekend, after all. But it seemed that the work at the ranch was never done.
She rubbed her forehead, then her temples. She hadn’t seen Holt drink more than one beer last night, so he was probably fine. That fact also made her more curious about him. Knox had no problem putting away a six-pack, and more, but according to Barb on the way home, Holt never went to Racoons.
Was there a story there? And why, of all nights, did he show up last night? Macie knew better than to flatter herself that he’d come because of her. Yet, he’d only danced with her and Barb. The rest of the time, he sat by himself. Oh, except for when he nearly punched out Briggs. Macie still couldn’t believe how Holt had taken over, all caveman-like. Briggs was harmless. Macie knew his type—flirty—but guys like that moved on almost faster than it took him to introduce himself.
Knox had a few friends like that. When Macie had complained to Knox that his friends were flirting with her, he’d told her to chill out. Yet, when Briggs had been talking to her, the look in Holt’s eyes had been anything but chill. Macie wondered what might have happened if she hadn’t distracted Holt with a dance.
Macie closed her eyes, and miraculously, she must have fallen back asleep, because the next time she opened her eyes, she could smell breakfast cooking.
What time was it, and did Heidi wake up early? Macie scrambled out of bed, only to notice that Ruby’s side was empty. Panic jolted through her, but she firmly told herself to calm down. The house had three other adults in it; surely, Ruby was with one of them. But what if she’d woken up Heidi?
Macie pulled on a T-shirt over her tank shirt, then opened her bedroom door.
The smell of cooking breakfast immediately grew stronger, and she heard Ruby chattering up a storm in the kitchen. Macie exhaled in relief and crossed the hall to the bathroom, where she quickly made herself half-decent.
Then she headed down the hall and rounded the corner to the kitchen.
Ruby stood on a chair in front of the stove next to . . . Holt?
“That’s it, little darlin’,” his voice rumbled. “You can flip it now, just like I showed you.”
Holt Prosper was making pancakes with her little girl.
Macie stared as she watched Ruby use a large spatula to scoop up a half-cooked pancake, then ever so carefully turn it over. Ruby wore her pajamas, along with her pink cowboy boots that Macie had to practically pry off her at night before bed. The uncooked side splattered a bit, and Ruby yelped.
Holt chuckled. “It’s okay. Sometimes, they do that.”
But Ruby set down the spatula and folded her arms. “I don’t wanna broken pancake.”
He didn’t seem bothered, not in the least. “I love broken pancakes. Can I have that one?”
Ruby’s voice held a smile when she said, “Okay. Do you want me to make you another broken pancake?”
He reached for the bowl with batter and poured three perfectly round circles onto the skillet. “How about we make one for your mom?”
Macie’s face warmed at Holt’s mention of her in such a casual yet thoughtful tone.
“Can it be that one?” Ruby asked, pointing at the closest pancake he’d just poured.
“Of course.” Holt grasped her hand and lifted it out of the way. “Remember, we can’t get our fingers too close to the skillet.”
Ruby nodded, her tangled curls bouncing.
Macie glanced at the kitchen clock. It was nearly nine in the morning, and she was surprised, first, that she’d slept in so long and, second, that Holt was still in the house. Oh no. What if he’d stayed in to watch over Ruby while Macie slept?
“Mommy!” Ruby said, turning to see her.
“Hi, baby.” Macie crossed to Ruby and kissed the top of her head. She didn’t look at Holt, but she could feel his gaze on her, and she could smell his clean-showered scent of soap and pine. “You’re making pancakes?”
“Yep!” Ruby grinned. “That one’s yours.”
