Catching the Cowboy (Circle B Ranch #2) - Kennedy Fox Page 0,96
last name.”
She nods again. “I’m already working on it. I planned on changing it before we move here.”
“Dawson Hayes…” I say aloud with pride.
“He’s gonna be a heartbreaker,” Rowan chimes in. “Especially with his father’s genes.”
“Hey!”
Chelsea and Rowan both laugh.
“Daddy!”
The three of us go quiet and look at Dawson.
“Did he…?” I point at him.
Rowan’s eyes light up. “He did!”
“You just called me daddy?” My heart is about to burst, and tears well in my eyes. I can’t help it; this is one of the happiest moments of my life.
Dawson giggles when I tickle him. “I love being your dad, kid.”
“This is the right decision,” Chelsea says. “Plus, it’ll give Trace and me a chance to get to know each other.”
Rowan’s jaw drops. “I knew it!” She points at me. “I told you!”
I snort at her dramatics. “You did.”
“Told you what?” Chelsea asks.
Dawson gets restless on my hip, so I set him down and watch him carefully as he wanders around the room. If he’s going to be here more often, I’ll have to toddler-proof the house a lot better. There are too many things he could get into.
“That you two were totally flirting at the B&B that one day,” Rowan explains.
Chelsea blushes, and I couldn’t be happier that she’s interested in someone. “We exchanged numbers and have been casually talking. I knew there was no point if we were in different states, but then a bank job opened, and Dawson’s been asking to visit you more, and it just felt like all the pieces were coming together for us to move here.”
“So…it wasn’t just for me?” I tease, popping a brow.
“Oh, shut up.” Chelsea throws a pillow at me.
I’m so relieved that things aren’t awkward between us, especially with Rowan and her, and that the three of us get along. We’re going to be co-parenting, and though I’m still new to it, I’m excited to spend time with him and teach him everything I know about country living. Rowan’s been patient and understanding, and we’ve grown even closer.
“When’s the interview?” I ask.
“It’s tomorrow, so I was hoping you’d be able to watch him.”
“What time? I have to work in the morning, but I can in the afternoon,” I tell her.
“Otherwise, I can help,” Rowan adds. “I have off tomorrow. I’ll take him to Grandma Bishop’s, and she’ll just die over him while spoiling him properly.”
I laugh, knowing she’s right. “If that’s okay with Chelsea? I’ll come over as soon as I’m done.”
“I mean, yeah, that’s fine as long as Rowan doesn’t mind. Dawson can be a handful.”
“Absolutely! My cousins are looking forward to playing with him too,” Rowan reassures her.
“Okay, thank you. I appreciate it. I’m not used to getting much help and always feel like a burden when someone offers. When I’m at work, he goes to daycare, and my sister’s shifts are the same as mine so I didn’t have extra hands.” She blows out a breath as if the whole world isn’t all on her shoulders now.
“I’m here, Chelsea. You don’t have to do this alone anymore. When you move here, we’ll come up with a schedule so you have some nights to yourself. You deserve it.”
“I can’t remember the last time I had an entire night to myself,” she says with a laugh. “Or an uninterrupted bath.”
Dawson grabs my cowboy hat off the coffee table and puts it on his head, covering his eyes and nose. He starts giggling, which makes the three of us burst out laughing too.
“How ya doing over there?” Rowan asks from the doorway, leaning against it with her arms crossed. The smartass look on her face tells me she knows damn well how things are going.
“Half his dinner is on the floor, so…not great.”
She walks toward me with a smile, then she looks at the table. “Did you try to feed him spinach?” She wrinkles her nose.
“It’s healthy for him,” I retort.
“Only if it makes it into his mouth,” she teases.
“Daddy, no!” He swipes my hand again when I hand him a fork. “I want candy!”
“You can’t have candy, buddy. How about some fruit?”
He nods and shoves a piece of hot dog in his mouth. Of course he’ll eat that, but nothing with actual nutrients.
“Don’t get discouraged,” Rowan tells me as I cut up an apple and banana. “Toddlers are picky shits.”
“How did Chelsea do this by herself for so long?” I ask, setting the slices in a bowl. “He’s been here for three hours, and I’m exhausted. I chased him