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“Nah. Hours are terrible too. I only moonlight as a bar fighter.”
I chuckle at his joke.
“I’m just a pair of hands at the Rowdy ranch. I help my father and brother keep the cattle under control, feed the horses, and do whatever needs to be done. It’s good, honest work, and my father treats me like any other employee when it comes to money. I’m thankful for his generosity. Don’t think I got much to offer beyond my back and hands.”
I grab the spatula and a paper towel, and set down a few cookies in front of him, then steal one myself. Grandma’s recipe is perfection, and neither my mother nor I have ever been tempted to really change it too much.
Outside using organic ingredients, anyway.
“I’m sure you have plenty to offer, Carter. Like your voice.”
“Hey, that’s for me only. And I’d appreciate it if you did your part and kept your knowledge of my dark secret to yourself.”
“Dark secret?”
“I guess since I get in so much sh... trouble,” he hesitates with his words. Him trying not to curse in front of me is oddly adorable. “It should be called a light secret, but it’s still a secret and I’m not exactly itching to have it known that big, tough Carter Rowdy is getting singing lessons from a church lady.”
“There’s a whole lot to you, Carter Rowdy. That much is for sure. I’ve learned a lot about you today and I think I’d like to learn more. Especially about this soft and gentle side you insist on hiding from the world.”
He chews through a cookie. Thoroughly. To the point I think it’s less about healthy eating habits and more about buying time. Like he’s trying to build up the courage for something.
“What do you say about you and me going out to get some dinner tonight? After my lesson is done?”
Did... did he just ask me out? He totally just asked me out.
I freeze in place, unsure of how to respond to his words. “Um, uh... sure, sounds good to me.”
My brain thaws enough to realize that I was talking automatically and just agreed to it in my usual agreeable nature.
But my reaction isn’t that I’ve just made a terrible mistake.
It’s worse. It's that I’ve done something I really want to do, but I shouldn’t have.
The front door opens, and it’s my mother. I have never been more relieved to see her in my life.
“Oh, Carter, you’re here,” my mother says as she sets down her bag. “Come into the music room and we’ll get started very soon. I’m sorry I’m late.”
“It’s really no problem, ma’am. I was early.” Carter gets up and steps closer to me to whisper in my ear. “Let me head home afterwards to get cleaned up and I’ll be back to pick you up at seven. Sound good?”
“Yes,” I say, and my natural agreeableness speaking for me again. “I’ll be ready.”
He leaves me be as he heads into my mother’s designated lesson room and closes the door.
I scarf some cookies down, hoping the sugar rush will overwhelm the million other emotions bubbling around inside me right now.
Can I get out of it by saying I filled myself up on cookies?
No, that’s silly.
Why would I want to get out of it, anyway?
You’ve dug the most wonderful grave for yourself, Cadence. Now you should just go get ready to have a wonderful evening lying in it.
And hoping that Dad never finds out what you’re doing.
3
CARTER
