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Several minutes later, she sat in the truck as Nate helped Connor onto the seat. “Slide over, bud. All the way.”
Connor did, and Ginger helped him with his seatbelt. “How’s the little cowboy?” she asked. Nate slammed the door, so she didn’t hear the beginning of what Connor said, but it didn’t matter. The boy had been dipped in magic, and then gold, and she couldn’t imagine a better child than Connor.
“You guys hungry?” she asked as she pulled through the garage and circled the house instead of backing out into the driveway.
“I am,” Connor said, bouncing a little on the seat. “Uncle Nate wouldn’t let me eat breakfast.”
“Is that so?”
“No,” Nate said, somewhat crossly. He wore a displeased look on his face as he gazed at Connor. “That is not true. You ate French toast, Connor. And bacon. I wouldn’t let you eat a Twinkie fifteen minutes ago, because we’re going to lunch with Ginger.” He looked at her from across the cab. “For her birthday.”
She sucked in a breath and dang near drove them into the fence post. She corrected sharply, throwing them all to the right. Nate started laughing, and Connor said, “Whoa there,” like a real cowboy.
“Who told you?” Ginger asked.
“Nick,” Nate said.
“I’m going to kill him.”
“Why?” Nate’s gaze on the side of her face was too heavy. “What’s the big deal if I know it’s your birthday?”
“Yeah, don’t you want any presents?” Connor asked in his innocent little boy voice.
“Yeah,” Nate echoed. “We could’ve gotten her so many presents. Now we’ll just have to settle for what we can find at the mall.”
“No,” Ginger said. “I don’t want presents.”
“Who doesn’t want presents?” Nate asked.
“I don’t,” she said. “My friends throw me a big birthday dinner with cake every year. I just want Chinese food and good company.”
“You don’t like your friends?”
“I love my friends. They’re just…loud.”
“The mall is loud,” Nate said.
“But it’s not the ranch,” Ginger said, finally letting herself look at him. “So, to the bank first? Chinese second? Mall third?”
Nate nodded, a curious look on his face still. Thankfully, Ginger had to look away to check the traffic before she pulled onto the highway.
“You gotta be good,” Nate said in a mock whisper to Connor. “She said she wanted good company.”
“What’s company?” Connor asked back, and Ginger’s face broke into a smile.
“It’s who you spend your time with,” Nate said. “So she wants to spend lunch with us, but only if she likes us.”
“She likes me,” Connor said. “Does she like you, Uncle Nate?”
Ginger looked at Nate then, and he looked at her. “Yeah,” he said with a wide grin. “I think she does.”
“Then we’ll be good,” Connor said, satisfied now.
“And I’m buying lunch,” Nate said.
Ginger shook her head, but she wasn’t going to argue with him. If he wanted to buy her lunch, that was fine. Perhaps she could use the topic of who paid to find out if they were dating, casually walking in the mornings and kissing each other, or what kind of labels he might use if he introduced her to say, his mother.
Or how she might introduce him to her sisters, both of whom were coming that night. Her heartbeat picked itself up and threw itself down, causing a slight echo in her pulse.
