Page 32 of All for You

“Ah, of course. How could I forget?” Her eyes dance with amusement. “And here I thought it was all rodeos and line dancing.”

I clutched my chest in feigning offense. “I’ll have you know, I’m a champion line dancer.”

She nearly chokes on her coffee. “Oh God, please tell me you’re joking.”

I stare at her as if offended, letting the suspense build momentarily before relenting. “Alright, you got me. I don’t dance, but I do make a mean chili.”

“Now that, I’d like to see.” Rachel’s voice lowers. “Or taste.”

The air between us crackles with tension. I lean in, drawn by the mischievous glint in her eye. “Careful what you wish for, honey. My chili’s been known to make grown men weep.”

Rachel’s lips quirks. “Tears of joy or pain?”

“Bit of both, I reckon.”

We both relax back in our chairs, and she laughs, the sound warming me more than any cup of coffee can. “Well, consider me intrigued. Maybe you’ll have to cook for me sometime.”

“Maybe I will,” I murmur, snared in her gaze.

The moment stretches. Part of me wants to shimmy across the table and kiss her senseless. But something holds me back. Even though I know the situation is different, that Rachel is different, I still can’t get past the trust and hurt issues instilled by my past experiences.

Rachel seems to sense the shift in mood. She clears her throat, breaking the spell. “So, um, thanks for breakfast. Even if your culinary skills are limited to pushing down a lever.”

“Hey now, don’t sell me short. I can also pour cereal like a pro.” Reclining back in my chair, the old wood creaks beneath me. “I aim to please, honey. Though I have to say, your coffee-making skills could use some work.”

She shoots me a playful glare. “Beggars can’t be choosers. It’s either instant or nothing in this palace.”

“Palace, huh?” I nod, my gaze sweeping over her small, one-room studio. “I’ve seen bigger horse stalls.”

“Watch it, Kincaid,” she warns, pointing her toast at me. “Or I’ll revoke your breakfast privileges.”

I hold up my hands. “My apologies, Your Highness. I wouldn’t want to upset the ruler of this magnificent kingdom.”

She outright giggles this time, the sound echoing off the bare walls. It feels good to hear her carefree, genuine laughter.

I cock my head as I stare at her, the moment growing serious. “You know, I forgot how nice this can be. Just waking up with someone. Sharing a simple meal.” My throat is suddenly dry.

“Yeah, it’s… uh, it’s nice.”

I reach across the table to take her hand, but she stands before we can connect and takes our empty mugs to the sink. I stay seated, watching her ass cheeks peek out from beneath the tail of my shirt. Her legs are long and bare and smooth, and I shift in the chair, trying to ignore how my pulse quickens. “What do you like to do when you’re not serving coffee and sass at the Bluebonnet?”

Rachel turns from the sink and leans against the counter while her fingers toy with the hem of the shirt, drawing it up slightly and giving me a peek at what’s naked underneath. “Read, mostly. I’m a sucker for a good story. I actually spend a lot of time at the library.”

I recognize the need to escape and lose myself in another world where my problems don’t exist. How many nights have I spent staring at the TV, desperately trying to forget the emptiness of my own life?

“What’s your favorite? Mysteries? Romance?”

She snorts. “God, no. Give me action or the world-is-ending chaos any day. Though I wouldn’t say no to a little Indiana Jones-style adventure and romance.”

I picture Rachel in a fedora and wielding a whip. Fuck, that’s a hot image. “I can see that. You’d make a hell of an archaeologist.”

She rolls her eyes. “I’m more interested in local history these days. Did you know Cupid’s Creek used to be a hideout for cattle rustlers?”

“Where’d you learn that?”

Rachel’s face lights up. “I’ve been digging through old newspaper archives at the library. There’re some wild stories about this place. Like how the town got its name.”

I groan. “Christ, please tell me you didn’t fall for that old tale.”

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