Page 12 of Red Hot Rancher

How did he manage such a level of privacy when Mom and Dad could pester her until she was listing every grocery run she’d been on and how it contributed toward her educational goals and study time?

Closing her laptop, she scooted off the bed and tiptoed to her bedroom door. Caleb had gotten home that morning and been gone all day. What was he spending his Friday doing?

The upper level was quiet. Giving herself a quick once-over, she adjusted her knit sweater before rolling her eyes. Caleb had seen her in pajamas and shit-covered jeans. He wasn’t lusting after her when he was around.

She fiddled with the hem of her sweater. The lilac color was her favorite. Not long ago, she’d had her hair dyed the same shade. She’d loved it, but when it came time to interview for jobs, she’d made sure to go back to her natural color, followed by highlights. Look the part and all that.

This pair of jeans was clean. Justin hadn’t had much work for her to do, which was good. It forced her to job hunt instead of wandering around outside finding tasks to perform, like checking the battery connections on the side-by-side that had decided to quit running.

Her stomach rumbled. She’d made a sandwich for lunch, but sitting in classes didn’t inspire her appetite like tromping through the barns and pastures. And she didn’t have Oliver subtly questioning how often and what she ate.

She puffed a strand of hair out of her face. How had she not smothered Oliver in his sleep? Was it guilt because he’d paid the bills while she’d gone to school? He hadn’t helped with tuition or books, and she’d done all the housework and grocery shopping. She’d “taken care of him” in exchange for what? For paying the utility bills and for food—that she shopped for and cooked?

This time on her own was good for her. And the reason why she wasn’t applying for work that didn’t resonate with her.

Not that the three jobs she’d put in for inspired a hint of a thrill. At least she could cuddle barn cats while waiting to hear back.

She went downstairs and stalled at the bottom. Male voices drifted from the kitchen. Her pulse kicked up. Was Caleb home?

She listened. Yes, he and Justin were chatting. She glanced back up the stairs. No. Avoiding Caleb wasn’t the answer to getting over him. If she could make it through being roommates with him, then she’d know she’d done the right thing all those years ago.

Because breaking things off with him had never felt right.

He was Moore to his bones. There was no way he would’ve left his grandparents for her. And no matter how aimless his mother was, she managed to stop back in Moore regularly to cause a ruckus and leave again. That was probably half the reason Caleb had never moved. Would his mom bother visiting him in another town? Had she bothered coming back to Moore once her own mother died?

Forcing herself to move, she walked into the kitchen. The smell of bacon grew stronger the closer she got.

Caleb was at the stove. Her bachelor brother had survived off takeout and delivery in Denver. Not an option in Moore. What’d he done before Caleb moved in?

“Mac and cheese,” Caleb said. She had planted her gaze on the pot to avoid gaping at how good he looked.

He must’ve worn a hat all day. He’d brushed his dark, silky strands off his head, but they wanted to settle back into hat head. She liked way too much how his hair hugged his scalp and accentuated the cut of his jaw and the high cheekbones. He leaned against the counter as he stirred, his legs kicked out and his boots crossed.

“Homemade too,” Justin added, the awe clear in his voice. Anyone who thought Caleb was taking advantage of Justin needed to witness this interaction. Justin kept peeking into the saucepan and shuffling his feet like a caged tiger at feeding time.

A mound of bacon sat next to the stove. She couldn’t believe it had survived Justin’s presence. “Mac and cheese with bacon?” It sounded good, delicious even, but she was born and raised in a ranching family. A meal was made around the meat, not the noodles.

“He mixed in grilled chicken. The bacon bits are on the side.” Justin’s smile reminded her of Christmas morning. He’d always had a hard time being patient.

“It’s popular at work,” Caleb said, taking the pan off the stove. “All done.”

She helped Justin dig the plates and forks out. Caleb dished the food onto their plates, cheese strands stretching long. Her mouth watered, and her breath hitched when he got to her plate. Whenever she and Oliver had been at a buffet or potluck, he’d grabbed her the smallest slice of anything. Or his plate would have a generous serving while hers had a scant teaspoon.

Caleb spooned just as much, even more, on hers than the other two. Then he piled more bacon on top. The corner of his mouth tipped up and her belly flipped. That was Caleb. The smallest gestures had always made her feel the most accepted.

“I’d say the recipe is secret, but I just throw shit together,” he said.

They carried their food to the dining room. It was the first time the three of them had sat down together for a meal. They were usually like three balls in motion, bouncing around each other and rolling through the house for meals and sleep.

“This needs a beer,” Justin announced, turning back to the kitchen. “Bridge?”

Her gaze automatically strayed to Caleb, like she’d done with Oliver. Searching for approval and deciding whether she wanted to defend her choice of drink and the calories she consumed.

Caleb caught her gaze, a beat of surprise going through his eyes, like he’d expected her to ignore him. “Beer makes it even better.”

She couldn’t fight her grin. “Melted cheese and bacon needs to be better?”

“You’ll see.” Justin disappeared and she dug in, blowing on the first bite before stuffing it in her mouth. That sandwich had been hours ago and she’d ridden horse part of the morning.

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