Rugged Cowboy - Elana Johnson Page 0,39

he’d literally stage a riot if he had to leave the house again.

He looked from his son to his daughter and back, wanting them both to be happy. “What about—?” Before he could finish, the doorbell rang, and someone knocked a moment later.

“I’ll get it,” Dallas said, and he left his kids standing in the kitchen at the back of the house while he went past the dining room table and a couple of loveseats to the front door. He opened it, pure surprise mingling with happiness when he found Jess standing there. “Well, howdy, pretty lady.” He reached up to tap his cowboy hat, a grin forming on his face instantly. “What are you doin’ here?”

She lifted a baking dish, and he reached to take it from her, because she also had a bag of groceries hanging from her wrist. He caught the scent of garlic and chicken as she said, “I brought dinner. I figured you guys would be hungry and not have much in the house.”

“We’ve been the store three times today,” Dallas said. “But somehow, I didn’t buy anything that was ready to eat.”

“Now you don’t have to.” She smiled at him as she squeezed past him and into the house. She looked around, taking in the floors, the furniture, the fine craftsmanship in the beams in the ceiling. “Dallas, this place is amazing.”

“You found it,” he said, following her. “So thanks, by the way. It is pretty amazing.” It wasn’t the seven-thousand-square-foot monstrosity he had in Houston, and Dallas had thanked the Lord for that every night since he’d seen this place.

He certainly didn’t need all that space, and this three bedroom, two and a half bathroom house with half an acre of land was perfect for him and his kids. They had a yard to play in, and Remmy was already asking for kittens. Thomas was violently opposed to that, and he wanted a dog, of course.

Dallas sided with Thomas on that one, but he didn’t think any of them were ready for a pet. He was still trying to make sure he sent his children to school on time looking like they had someone who cared about them.

“Jess brought dinner,” he said, taking the baking dish into the kitchen.

“Bread,” she said, finally abandoning her scrutiny of the house. “Salad. Brownies. That’s chicken Alfredo.”

Dallas took the tin foil off the dish to the sight of the creamiest, cheesiest pasta he’d ever seen. His mouth watered, and he knew his kids would like this. “Did you make this?” he asked.

“It’s the one thing I know how to cook.” Jess beamed at him and started fiddling with the buttons on his stove. “This bread needs five minutes to toast, and dinner is served.”

“Tommy, get us some plates,” Dallas said. “Remmy, you get the punch out.” He busied himself with opening the bagged salad and drooling over the brownies. He got out silverware and set it next to the plates his son had retrieved. He took out a knife and cut the brownies, putting big pieces one each plate.

Jess turned from the stove and paused. “What is going on here?”

“We’re having dessert first,” Dallas said, picking up two of the plates. He nodded to the other two before he moved to the table. “Who wants this one?”

“Me!” Remmy danced over to him and climbed into the chair. He set her brownie in front of her and left the other one on the table. He returned to the kitchen to finish the salad and make the punch. He took everything to the table, as his momma had taught him how to have a family meal at a real table. Growing up, all Dreyer’s were expected to be at the dinner table at six-thirty, barring an emergency.

Dates and jobs had been exceptions. Hanging out with friends was not. His mother simply said to bring them along, and she’d often fed twice as many children as she’d actually given birth to. Dallas had loved having his friends over for dinner, because his momma was a good cook.

His heart squeezed at the thought of her, and he knew it was a sign that he needed to call her. He should probably get up there with the kids one of these weekends, and he decided he’d call her after dinner that night.

“Let’s say grace,” he said, glancing at Jess. She’d mentioned church before, but Dallas had never actually seen her attend. He swiped his hat from his head and looked at Thomas.