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“I dunno. She says you have nice hair, and it’s silly you cover it.”
“She thinks I have nice hair?” I chuckled, thankful it was dark enough to hide the heat rising in my cheeks and neck.
“She says that about me, too.” Day giggled as he leapt up onto the porch, forgoing the steps altogether.
“Time to hit the hay, cowboy,” I said as I held open the screen door for him and Jenny. He darted for the fort, his bare feet slightly damp with evening dew slapping against the wood floors. I watched him crawl inside, Jenny following. I turned out the light in the living room, keeping the light in the foyer on in case he needed to get up and use the bathroom in the middle of the night.
Moira liked my hair, huh? Thought my hat was stupid… sure. She’d be the first woman to say so, if it were even the truth.
“I’m just upstairs if you need anything,” I said, but Day was already snuggled in tight, his arms wrapped around Jenny’s neck.
Jenny would keep him safe and snug; I knew that for a fact. I also knew that I had fun today, despite my doubts about what a day with a kid, even Moira’s kid, would be like.
But that didn’t stop me from walking around the entire house, checking each and every window from the inside out, locking each one tight.
Then, I sat out on the front porch until the early hours of the morning, my shotgun leaning against the wall.
ChapterTwelve
Moira
Islept like the dead… and woke up in a panic, unsure of where I was.
Then it all came rushing back to me—the trip to Bozeman, the meeting at Montana State, the bed & breakfast and spa day Grant had booked for me. I ran my hands over my face before looking over at the clock on the far wall. It wasn’t even six in the morning, the window still dark and curtains still.
I’d left the goddamn window open.
That was so unlike me.
Maybe, just maybe, it was a good thing.
I rolled over in bed and snatched my phone off the charger, the blue glare illuminating my face and my hair as I pulled up my messages. Nothing. No calls, no texts. If something bad had happened in the middle of the night, Grant would have called me… right?
I pulled up my email, my anxiety taking full control as I skimmed through the spam messages that had rolled in overnight, looking for anything from Grant. He would’ve emailed me if… if the house burned down, and he left his phone on the kitchen counter, and no one else on the ranch had their phones for whatever reason.
Morning. We’re fine. Go back to sleep.The text lit up the top half of my screen and I nearly dropped my phone in surprise.
How did you know I was awake?I texted back, my fingers slipping over the screen at a rapid pace. Had he been reading my fucking mind from all the way in Hot Springs?
Grant: Did you even sleep?
Me: Yes, for your information, I did.
Grant: How much did you sleep?
Me: Why does it matter?
Grant: Because the idea that you stayed up all night worrying that I’d let something happen to Day is grating.
“Grating,” I said aloud, snorting as I rolled onto my back and watched those three little dots dance on our message thread.
Grant: Even more so that I know you’re up at the crack of dawn getting ready to sneak out of the room I booked you so you can hit the road before you even eat breakfast.
Me: You think I miss you that much? I wrote out, but then hesitated, running my tongue over my teeth as I considered my words.
Oh, the hell with it.
I hit send.
