Page 33 of Last Chance Cowboy
And trying not to make it about him and her fascination.
She’d left a roll on the counter in the morning, as she had instructed her staff to do while she was away.
But by mid-morning, it was still there.
She turned to Amelia. “Has he been in while I was gone?”
“Oh no,” she said. “I mean, we put the roll out every morning like you said, but he never came to get one.”
That made the back of her neck prickle for most of the day.
She was taking a break, sitting down with her notebook and thinking about new flavors for her signature rolls, when Zane walked in through the front door, nearly sending her off the edge of her chair.
“Oh. There you are.”
“I heard you were in.”
She wondered who had told him that. Who thought that he might be interested in knowing it.
But she didn’t ask that.
“Yeah. I am. I’m surprised you didn’t come get your rolls while I was gone.”
“I didn’t know that you’d have them out.”
“Yeah. Of course. I wasn’t going to just quit feeding you.”
“This may surprise you, but I’m not so much of a caveman that I don’t know how to feed myself.”
Heat crept into her face. “I mean, I do know that.”
“Just making sure. I feel like sometimes Cody and the others say things about me, and it gets a little bit out of hand.”
“What kinds of things?”
“I feel like it’s been implied that I might be a serial killer.”
“Oh, never that. A sociopath, yes. But not a serial killer.”
“Is there a fundamental difference between the two?” he asked.
“Well, yes. There is. A pretty big difference. Because one doesn’t experience emotions and the other one has killed a whole bunch of people.”
“Fair enough.” To her surprise, he grabbed the back of a chair, pulled it out, and sat across from her. “So, are you interested in starting our lessons?”
“Yes,” she said. “I am. I’m going to the doctor tomorrow to find out how much longer I have to keep my bandage on.”
“Great. I have a whole program.”
“Well, that’s awesome. I am looking forward to… getting back out there.” Except she felt a little bit of trepidation, and she wasn’t sure if looking forward to it was the appropriate term.
Not when she actually felt a little bit dented still.
She had been so looking forward to this, hoping that it would fix the fact that she was feeling kind of sad about everything, and now she felt like she was getting in her own head. But she wasn’t going to let herself do that. She wasn’t.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she said.
