A Cowgirl's Secret - By Laura Marie Altom Page 0,22
pulse racing and her mouth dry.
Sighing, Luke perched on the arm of the sofa he’d last occupied in her loft. Rubbing his whisker-stubbled jaw, he mused, “I honestly don’t know what to make of you.”
“Did I hire you to psychoanalyze my every move?” Turning her back on him, she returned to her task of unwrapping framed photos, only to stop. Kolt grinned in every shot. Kolt as a chubby baby. His first day of kindergarten. Hamming it up with his friends on his riotous seventh birthday. Stacking the images, she carefully placed them upside down before returning them to the box. The last thing she needed was for Luke to be reminded of how many precious moments he’d missed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap.”
“That’s my point,” he said. “Even though we’ve been apart for years, I like to think I knew you better than just about anyone. But this version of you—flighty, always on edge—makes me worry.”
“Thanks,” she said with a sad laugh, “but I’m good.”
Are you?
If Daisy didn’t tell Luke—her mom, Dallas, everyone—soon, the weight of her secret would eat her alive. She wasn’t sleeping. Rarely ate. Her heart constantly raced as if she’d spent hours running in hot sun.
“If you say so…” Glancing at their surroundings, he noted, “The stuff from your loft doesn’t exactly match this building’s turn-of-the-century ambiance.”
“I probably should’ve sold it before moving out here.” She sat on one of a matching pair of designer lounge chairs upholstered in a black-and-white pinto-patterned leather that had reminded her of home. But since she’d been here, could she really say Weed Gulch was where she belonged? She felt in limbo. Never more so than when she and Luke shared the same air.
“What had you in such an all-fired hurry to leave this afternoon?” The faded denim shirt he wore rolled up at the sleeves worked magic with his blue eyes. The same color looked equally as impressive on his son. Luke had given her the perfect opening to tell him about Henry, so why was her tongue refusing to work?
“I, um, guess I was preoccupied with getting back here to work.”
“Which has me wondering…” He rose and crossed the room to sit on the box of books alongside her. “Why so many treks to my house, acting as if there’s something pressing on your mind, yet you never say a damned meaningful thing.”
“Please, stop,” she begged, sliding her hands into the hair at her temples. “It’s complicated—my reasoning.”
Leaning in, close enough for her to have sworn she caught a hint of sweet ice cream still on his breath, he said, “I’m a big boy. You’d be surprised how much I might understand.” His nearness transported her back to a time before Kolt. Before fear had gotten in the way of love. Back to when she’d wanted nothing more from life than to spend her every waking moment in Luke’s arms. To when she’d believed a life with him protecting her would forever keep her from harm.
“You can admit it,” he said, still too close for her mind to function properly.
“Wh-what?”
“You’re flustered about being close to me.” Cupping her cheeks, he kissed her.
Yes! the teen girl in her cried.
No! warned the world-weary professional she’d become.
“I am, too—about being around you, but see? We kissed and nothing happened. No sparks. Not a single firework or marching band. So now that we have that established, we can get down to the business of setting up a formal visitation schedule for Kolt.”
“Whoa. Time out.” She pushed him from her in a frantic search for air. Standing, hands on her hips, she paced. How dare he toy with her this way. As if he knew how flustered he made her and wanted her to squirm. “What the hell was that?”
“I told you. Just clearing the air.”
“HELLO, THERE.”
Kolt looked out the window of the awesome fort that used to belong to his uncles to see Henry. Uncle Dallas had introduced them and told Kolt what a cool guy he was. Adjusting his pirate eye patch, Kolt said, “Hi, Henry!”
“Permission to climb aboard, Cap’n?”
Kolt laughed. “Yeah! I didn’t know you knew how to play pirates.”
“I play all kinds of fun games,” Henry said, climbing the fort’s ladder. Once he’d made it to the top, he sat on a wooden crate, and then pulled a Snickers bar out from under his cowboy hat. “Like candy?”
“You bet. Thanks!” While Kolt chewed, Henry took a pocket knife and a small block of wood from his back