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“You?” He sounded amused. “Or do you mean your place but for the woman occupying it with you this week?”
“Does it matter?” I grunted and he laughed.
“Not to me but sounds like it matters enough to you.”
I chuckled. “Can I get the tree or not? You worrying about what I have going on isn’t why I called.”
Beau and I were close friends so he would eventually know about what I had going on but at the moment I didn’t have a damn clue so I couldn’t give him any details about me and Shore.
“Come get what you need but I won’t be around. Got my hands full with this leadership conference.”
“Yeah I bet you do. Don’t forget Ms. Mel doesn’t just run her mouth about my business. She shares everyone else’s too, including yours.”
When Melvina called and demanded I get Shore a tree, she mentioned she was going to reach out to Beau to make sure it was okay. That only meant she was calling him to make sure I got the damn tree. Micromanaging.
She then mentioned he had his eyes on one of the guests who was staying at his ranch and went into some spiel about how there was love on the horizon in Miller’s Pointe and maybe she could get some bonus great-nieces and nephews out of me and Beau. I quickly shut her down and moved on to my plans for getting the tree.
“I can only imagine.,” he said and I felt his pain. “Come get what you need and if you stick to minding your business, I’ll stick to minding mine.”
“Works for me. I’ll see you at the first of the year to check on those horses and if you talk to your brother before I do, let Kit know I need another order of supplements for my horses. He can leave it with my guys and I’ll send over payment if I’m not there when he has it delivered.”
“I got you.”
After I ended the call, I poured a cup of black coffee and was about to fix my plate when I noticed a sluggish and disheveled Shore heading my way. The frown on her face had me handing over the mug I was about to drink from, which she accepted and groaned a morning and thank you before taking a sip. She cringed and I arched a brow when she went right back swallowing down more of the steamy brew.
“I told you to handle that moonshine with care. You didn’t listen.”
She scowled at me and I chuckled, turning away to fix a plate. “Have a seat. You need to eat.”
“I don’t know if Icaneat,” she mumbled but made her way to the table. I followed with a plate of waffles and a side of oatmeal.
“I’m not eating that.” She pointed to the bowl and shoved it away. I pushed it right back, lifted the spoon I brought with it and shoved it into the brown sugar and vanilla blend.
“It will coat your stomach and make you feel better. Eat, Boston.”
“I don’t like oatmeal. It’s gross and feels weird in your mouth.” Her eyes darted over to the stove then back to me. “I smell bacon. I’ll have some of that please.”
“The grease will make your stomach feel worse. Eat the oatmeal first then we’ll consider the bacon.”
She frowned. “Are you really policing what I can eat?”
“I am. If I don’t you’ll be stuck in the bathroom all day and we won't be able to get that tree you want so badly. Now eat the damn oatmeal.”
“I don’t want to. Maybe I should call Melvina and tell her you’re not being hospitable.”
I placed my palms flat on the table and leaned forward until our eyes were level. “Are you gonna be a snitch, Boston?”
“Are you going to be the food police,Cowboy?”
The smile playing on her lips had my eyes lowering to those soft, pillowy cushions. The visual created reminders about the kiss we shared last night and my dick swelled.
“Fine, eat what you want but don’t say a word when you feel like shit after and we’re still getting the tree.” I walked to the stove, lifted the plate of bacon, and placed it next to her when I returned. After I fixed my own plate—waffles, bacon, and bowl of oatmeal—I sat across from Shore watching as she shoved an extra crispy and greasy piece of bacon in her mouth.
She chewed slowly, as if trying to make a point, but her stomach grumbled its dissatisfaction. I chuckled and kept my eyes fastened to hers while she cut into the waffle and moved a large chunk into her mouth. I noticed she didn’t touch any more bacon even if she didn’t bother with the oatmeal. I had won a silent victory.
We ate in silence and once she was done, I cleaned the kitchen while she showered and dressed then rejoined me in the living room looking a lot better than she had an hour ago.
Not because she’d prepared herself for the day. I liked the bed hair and crumpled clothes. It had me thinking she’d looked damn sexy in my bed that way, or better, with no clothes on at all. The better in my opinion was that her skin was back vibrant and she had more pep in her step.
