Page 32 of Homebound

That thought makes this July heat feel all the more scalding. “No, I can’t even imagine him naked.”

And yet, the visual pops into my head for the first time ever. All those soaking wet muscles, but then I remember the drunk teenage bed-peeing incident, and it ruins the visual.

“Dakota!”

I jump at the sound of my full name, so I already know who it is, and I secretly love that he still calls me by my full name. No one else does.

I glance across the market booths to see Wyatt beelining through the crowd with Vienna on his hip, juggling a grocery bag bursting with vegetables. It’s easy to spot him since he towers over almost everyone in his cowboy hat. Not to mention every woman nearby is smiling at the daddy-daughter duo. Including me.

He’s wearing a T-shirt that says Rodeo Daddy and Vienna’s in a miniature version that says Rodeo Princess. She’s also clutching the stuffed longhorn I bought her, and my smile twitches at the sight.

She really likes it.

“Oh my goodness, they’re matching.” Alanna smacks a hand to her chest. “That’s the cutest thing. Kodie, isn’t that the cutest thing you’ve ever seen?”

“I’ve seen cuter,” I lie, biting my bottom lip to contain my smile. Their matching set is pretty adorable. I should buy a top for myself.

Wyatt stops in front of us, brushing the loose strands of hair back from his face. The buttery sunlight makes the strands look extra radiant, but his five-o’clock shadow is growing into more of a beard, like he hasn’t had enough time to himself to shave.

I hope he’s getting enough sleep. He needs to be taking care of himself.

Alanna shoves out a perfectly manicured hand, going right to introductions. “I’m Alanna, but my friends call me Lana. I’ve heard so many things about you, and fair warning, I’ve got high expectations for the hockey world’s golden boy.”

Wyatt chuckles, low and rough, and dips his hat. A few moms pushing strollers eye him with blatant interest, and I don’t blame them. He looks good, but their staring is starting to border on ogling. Come on, ladies. We’re at a farmers market, not a strip club.

“Well, howdy there,” he twangs out, ramping up his accent. “I better live up to all these expectations you’ve got for us Southern gentlemen.”

He lifts Lana’s hand to his lips to kiss the back of her palm like he’s greeting royalty. He’s never been a smirker, only a smiler, but I like a man who smirks. Arrogance can be kind of hot when it’s not overdone. There’s something about a slightly overconfident man that gets me every time.

“Oh, no need to impress me with your gentleman tendencies,” she says. “I prefer my men rugged and rowdy like Kodie.”

His teasing grin falters, but he manages to keep a polite smile in place. “Rugged and rowdy, huh? Well then, yes, ma’am.”

Alanna gasps, ripping her hand away. “Nope. No, no no. You are not calling me ma’am. That’s where I draw the line.”

“No can do. It’s ingrained in me.” Wyatt leans down to scratch the spot behind Luna’s ear she loves, and Vienna reaches down too. “You want to say ‘hi,’ baby? Hey, there, Tuna. Can you say Tuna? Tu-na?”

“No!” she squeals.

“Jesus, she’s adorable,” Lana says.

“She’s the cutest kid I’ve ever seen,” I blurt in agreement.

Wyatt snaps his head up at that, and a wide smile jumps to his lips. “You think my baby girl’s cute?”

I could lie, but what’s the point? We’ve both got eyes. “Yeah, she’s your kid, so of course she’s cute.”

He winks. “Are you saying I’m cute, Dakota Cutler?”

Something about that wink makes my stomach tighten, so I lift my shoulder. “You’ve got a mirror.”

“Yes, ma’am, I do, but I’d rather hear it from your lips,” he says.

He makes the word lips sound dirty, and I swallow, suddenly parched. Has his voice always been that deep?

Lana rolls her eyes. “Enough with the ma’am.”

Wyatt scratches Luna again, and her back leg starts jerking in that dog-orgasmic way that, frankly, feels somewhat inappropriate to watch.