We walk past the living room with its sofa and both armchairs still covered with clothes the girls pulled downstairs. They wanted to take the outfits to camp before they figured out there wasn’t enough room in their suitcases for everything. Ignoring the clothes, I press onward to the kitchen.
“Gold star for having an actual home. I was expecting a man cave. Who else lives here?” she asks.
“My daughters, but they’re off at summer camp.” Knowing she saw the piles of clothes, I add, “Sorry for the mess. They didn’t have time to put away everything before they left.”
“And your wife?”
I almost fucking choke.
It’s such an innocent, honest, disarming question but...
I don’t expect it.
I’m used to dealing with folks who know my situation.
“Deceased. Roughly five years ago,” I tell her, pinching my jaw.
I click on the kitchen light, and flinch. The dishes are piled high in the sink. Another fun thing I forgot.
Shit.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Willow says over my shoulder, her voice so gentle.
I nod tightly, eager to get off that subject. At least the dirty dishes can help.
“Haven’t been home much this past week, so things are chaotic,” I say, squaring my shoulders and turning to look her in the eye.
She gives me a syrupy smile that says she gets it.
Does she? If she comes from a rich background, I’m sure she’s got the creepy crawlies right now in my very lived-in, messy family house.
Sure, I can blame it on spending so much time at the bar this past week, training a couple new part-timers. Then again, I can’t blame the bar for truly needing me there for sixteen hours a day.
Without the girls, the house is too lonely, so I’ve purposefully kept busy all day and half the night since the day they left.
“How old are your girls?” she asks, sensing a change in the air.
“Ten.” I cross the room.
“Both of them?”
“Yep. That’s the beauty with twins. Sawyer and Avery are their names.” On the far side of the kitchen, I open a door, thankful this room is tidy.
Flicking the light switch on, I give her a minute to take a good look.
“It’s not a five-star resort suite, but it’s a place to bed down in peace and quiet. Bathroom’s right through that door,” I say, pointing.
She steps into the room and nods at the door I pointed out.
“It’s lovely. Smells like wildflowers in here! Absolutely perfect after a long day.” She turns and looks up at me, again wearing that sunshine smile.
My breath snags in my chest.
It’s the first time I’ve stopped and really seen her up close, face-to-face with enough light to fully make out her features.
They’re damn near flawless.
Her eyes are sky-blue gems in the mellow light, lined with dark lashes and highlights of wispy dark brows. They’re partly hidden behind a thick set of dark-brown bangs. A perfectly adorable nose has a tiny line of faint freckles, extending to her plush cheeks, which I already know ignite too easily. The peak of her top lip is prominent, making her mouth look heart-shaped. Too nice a fit for a man’s hungry lips, much less his—
Stop. You’re doing that thing again, an ugly voice nags in the back of my brain. She’s not your friend and definitely not your eye candy flirt. Pull your shit together, man.
I tear my gaze off her and turn to the door, trying to forget how achingly beautiful this unexpected mess of a woman really is.
“Thank you again, Grady,” she tells me.
My mouth feels like cotton and I realize I’m not breathing. I inhale deeply before answering.
“You’re welcome. I’ll call West first thing in the morning.”
“West?”
“Weston, my nephew. He’s the mechanic I mentioned. We can trust him not to open his mouth about anything. He’ll be able to work on your truck where it’s parked behind my bar.” I’d planned on texting him, but there’s no need to wake him right now. Morning will be here soon enough.
“Oh, okay, thanks!”
I stop at the door, wondering why she’s following me. “Everything okay?”
“I just forgot something...I need to get my bag out of your pickup,” she says shyly.
“I’ll grab it for you. Stay here,” I tell her.
I don’t care how much I’ve opened my home like a good Samaritan or how screaming hot she is. I’m not trusting her more than I need to just yet and letting her roam my property.
Besides, the fresh air will calm my ass down.
I’m still trying not to focus on how pretty she is, how cute she makes an oversized grey sweatshirt and black leggings look, as I collect the bag quickly and carry it back into her room.
“Here you are. Good night, then.”
“Good night, Grady. Thanks again for all you’re doing. I appreciate it more than you’ll ever know...and so does Bruce.”
Does that mean he won’t bite me in half? I stop short of saying it and leave her with a conflicted smile, nodding as I pull the door shut and plod through the house.
Great.
Apparently, I’m due for a blue ribbon in Stupid to go with my Purple Heart.
Leave it to me to be attracted to a tiger thief, and actually bring her home with me.
In all the years since Brittany’s death, no woman has caught my eye long enough to come here, and I see plenty of them at the bar.
There’s something about this girl that’s caught more than just my eye.
It’s odd and inexplicable and wrong.
She’ll be gone tomorrow, though. That’s for sure.
As I cross the living room to the stairs leading to my room, I look at the mess I’m too damn exhausted to start on now. Let it linger another day as a reminder.
I have enough chaos in my life, and sure as hell don’t need more—especially not the kind that comes in hilariously illegal black-and-orange and could overpower a hundred men.
Maybe it’s divine punishment for my three unbreakable rules.
One, I’ve sworn off critters of any kind long ago, no matter how much the girls begged.
Two, I’ve also walled myself off from drama. And I’ve been pretty successful at keeping it out of my life in a talkative little town that loves gossip more than it does its famous rodeos.
Finally, I’ve always given a big hell no to romance, and that’s how it’s gonna stay.
Half the ladies in Dallas see that as a challenge.
They think I’m one more rock-hard, closed off caveman who traded his badass card for a dad card, and every last one of ’em are wrong.
Many have come calling with flirty smiles and lipstick so bright it burns the eyes.
All have failed.
When I say I’m a bachelor whose life begins and ends with his girls, his bar, and his best friends in that order, I fucking mean it.
Shame some women still don’t get the message.
Gotta admit, before today, I did a pretty good job of obeying my rules like gospel.
As I climb the stairs to my room, I cringe because the cracks are forming, annoying and unwelcome as a hairline fracture.
Even if it’s just for a day, Willow and Bruce are threatening my resolve with critters and drama.
Thank fuck the romance rule is solid as marble.