Page 23 of Lost and Lassoed

“I will,” Riley said. “I promise.”

“Good. I gotta go, Sunshine, I can see your dad and Scout coming. I love you!” Riley and I both gave Emmy a “Love you too” and hung up.

I grabbed Riley’s hand and had her do a little twirl.

“Incredible outfit choice,” I said. “What do you want to do today, Your Majesty?” Riley grinned.

“I’ll show you your room.” Riley still had hold of my hand and started dragging me toward the hallway. “My room and Daddy’s gym are upstairs”—she pointed at the stairs at the mouth of the hallway. I knew that, and I also knew her room had a kid-sized daybed and more stuffed animals than a carnival, but I wasn’t about to steal the queen’s thunder, you know?

“I’m not allowed to go in the gym because one time I dropped a weight on my foot, and it really hurt,” Riley said, talking away.

We walked past the staircase. Riley skipped the first door on the right, but I knew that that was a bathroom, and then we came to a door on the left. My room. I looked at the last door on the right—Gus’s room.

A little too close for comfort, but whatever.

The door to my room was open, and Riley pulled me inside. Like the rest of the house, the room had hardwood floors, but this one was mostly covered by a plush rug. The walls were cream-colored, and the large window faced the mountains.

The bed was a sofa bed that had been pulled out and made up. The sheets and comforter were mismatched shades of green, but I liked it. And you bet your ass the corners of the bedding were tucked and crisp. The thought of Gus having to make this bed for me and not being constitutionally capable of half-assing it made me smile.

He had brought in an end table to function as a nightstand. There was a mason jar on it with water and wildflowers. That was…nice.

“This used to be my room, but I got big,” Riley said.

“I remember,” I responded. If memory served, the room that Riley was in upstairs was much more spacious, but this one was still nice. And I could get used to this view. There was no such thing as a bad view in Meadowlark, but Rebel Blue definitely had the best ones.

Riley and I went out to my truck and got the backpack and duffel bag I’d brought—clothes, toiletries, a few paperbacks—the essentials. She helped me unpack, and she was chatty today. She told me that her dad had spent all day yesterday cleaning—which Riley hated—and that they’d then gone to the grocery store past her bedtime—which she loved. I also learned that the princess dress wasn’t her first outfit choice but that she didn’t know where all of her clothes were.

After I made us some sandwiches for lunch, I went into the laundry room behind the kitchen and solved that mystery real quick.

Gus’s laundry piles were bigger than Emmy’s, but substantially more organized. Riley’s clothes were in pink baskets and his were in white baskets. I quickly threw one of the pink baskets in on Quick Wash and set a timer on my phone to make sure I put them in the dryer.

The rest of the day was nice—easier than expected. We walked down one of the trails near the house—I wanted to scope out some picnic spots—and we saw a couple of sheep; Riley took a nap, we folded her laundry, and we were sitting on the back porch playing Guess Who when Gus came home.

Listen, I was no fan of Gus Ryder, but watching Riley light up and take off like a shot to greet him when she heard the front door open was one of the top five cutest things I’d everseen—right after the way she’d nuzzled into his chest this morning. I practically heard my ovaries goka-boom,and I didn’t even like him. Imagine if Gus was nice and all of this was happening—I’d never recover.

I wasn’t sure what to do—greet him or stay where I was—so I stayed where I was. I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes, basking in the glow of the evening sun. He was home later than he said he’d be. It was past six.

One thing about cowboys? After they’ve been working all day, you can hear them coming, so I knew when Gus was starting to make his way toward me. Leather chaps, and all the buckles they require, are not quiet.

“Hey,” he said when he came out the back door.

I didn’t turn to look at him. “Hey,” I said. A shadow blocked the sun, and I opened my eyes.

It would never not be the most annoying thing in the world that he was so fucking handsome.

“How’d it go today?” he asked as he untucked and unbuttoned the Western pearl-snap shirt he was wearing—not that I noticed.

“Good,” I said. “Your kid is much more pleasant than you.” He shrugged like he already knew that. He had unbuttoned his shirt all the way, and the tight white T-shirt underneath was clinging to him. “Thanks for setting up the room,” I said as a way to distract me from the fact that he was now removing his chaps.

He arched a thick, dark brow at me. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say thank you,” he said.

“I say thank you—I have manners, you know—just not to you,” I said.

“Fair.” He laid his chaps down on the chair next to me. “I’m going to shower and then make dinner. You okay with grilled chicken?”

“I can go get dinner,” I said. “You don’t have to make anything for me.”

Gus rolled his eyes. “Never once have I seen you turn down a free meal,” he said. “You entered every eating contest at the county fair a few years ago just so you wouldn’t have to pay for any food all day.” Huh. I didn’t know he knew that.

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