Page 13 of Homebound

“That’s a hell of a lot of baggage you’ve got there,” I say warily.

Luna barks her happy bark.

“Yeah, I know.” He rocks back on his boots. “I wanted to talk to you about staying here at the barn this summer. Like old times.”

6

NOT “YES”

WYATT

Goddamn, I need to chug a gallon of water looking at her like this. It’s taking a massive effort not to let my gaze drop to her cleavage, but I can do it. I’m strong.

“How long?” Dakota demands, shooting me the mother of all glares. I try not to shrivel up.

She’s standing in her purple lace bra, clearly not caring that she’s topless. Purple. At least her favorite color is still the same.

She always used to say it was the color of Texas bluebonnets—not quite blue and not quite purple. Somewhere smack dab in the middle.

I’ve seen Dakota in a bikini, underwear, even naked once, on accident, and it never fails to make my mouth go dry. For a split second, I can’t think of a thing to say. But I can’t look at her now. The only time I let myself think about her body is when I’m lonely at night.

I hitch Vi’s giraffe diaper bag up on my shoulder, mostly to give myself something to do. “How long what?” I ask, trying to clear the gravel in my throat.

“How long are you planning on staying here?” she states flatly.

There’s no emotion, no fire in her voice, and I know for a fact this woman can light someone up with her words. It’s one of my favorite things about her—that fire. It pushed me to be better, do more, impress her.

She leans against the door frame, pressing her shoulder over our height marks etched into the wood. Wyatt & Dakota 2006. I hope she’s not trying to cover up our memories.

“I’ll head back at the end of August for preseason training,” I say. “So just for the off-season. Maybe a couple of months? I want to help out with the farm. Make sure things are still running smoothly.”

“That long, huh?” She huffs. A piece of brown hair goes flying up into the summer heat.

Okay, two months is not that long.

“Please? We’ll stay out of your way,” I beg, scratching Luna-Tuna behind her ear as she shoves her face right in my crotch.

This dog.

She’s the best.

Not because her face is in my crotch, to be clear.

“Why can’t you stay with your moms at the main house?” she asks.

“They’re renovating the upstairs this summer, so there’s sawdust and nails everywhere. I don’t want Vi around that, and plus, they don’t have any extra bedrooms downstairs. You’ve got an extra room here, so it’d be perfect for the two of us.”

Her gaze lingers on my daughter before settling back on me. I want to believe her lips twitch in a smile as she looks at my girl, but I can’t tell. She shifts her focus, and it feels like she’s scrutinizing the dark circles under my eyes, but if she’s thinking about shooting me down, she doesn’t show it on her face, thankfully.

I can’t handle any more awe-filled yet pitiful looks like the ones I get from women in the grocery store fruit aisle. You’d think I was performing open-heart surgery on an airplane with the way women look at me pushing my daughter in the cart.

I’m just being a fuckin’ dad, grocery shopping with my kid. No need for a round of applause, ladies.

All she does is brush a curl off her forehead before flicking a hand to the rustic living room. “By all means, have at it. Technically, this is your parents’ barn, so if you need a place to stay, you don’t need to ask for my permission. The room’s all yours.”

My brows soar. “Really? You’re not going to fight me on this?”

She rolls her eyes. “Of course not. I’m not going to be rude and deny you and your daughter a place to stay. Plus, I don’t have the energy to fight you, Patterson. I’ve got to focus on training this summer for the Granite Falls rodeo at the end of August. I’ll be traveling most weeks to rodeos around the state, so stay wherever you want. I don’t really give a shit.”