Page 36 of Sweet Beginnings

“Good night,” he muttered back, briefly wondering what would be worse, sleeping close to Sarah Sue Conroy—now Sweet—or facing her wrath in the morning if he went ahead and slept on the floor?

Chapter Thirteen

“Hot coffee?” A carafe of fresh coffee in her hand, Sarah Sue stood by the kitchen table.

“Thanks.” Carson held out his cup. “Don’t tell Mom I said so, but your coffee is amazing.”

“I heard that,” the family matriarch’s voice could be heard from the laundry room.

Rachel and Jillian chuckled at their mother’s declaration. Sarah Sue, on the other hand, looked totally mortified.

On his feet, Preston took his plate to the stove and scooped two more spoonfuls of his mom’s potato salad to go with the second helping of ribs already on his plate, then he leaned into where Sarah Sue stood. “You’re doing great.” Without thinking, he kissed her temple, delighted deep down when she smiled at him.

For over almost a month, still unable to secure lodging away from the ranch, they’d been playing the role of happy newlyweds for everyone. The thing that got Preston was that everything came so naturally. How they behaved in front of friends and family wasn’t all that different from how they behaved when alone. He’d even gotten used to rolling over in his sleep and bumping into Sarah. A time or two…or three… he’d woken up with Sarah Sue curled into his side, or his arm around her. The only challenge had been resisting the urge to kiss her awake. That had not been part of the arrangement.

“Somebody spike your coffee?” Garret came to stand beside him at the stove.

“What?”

“You look like you sucked on a lemon or someone put sour milk in your coffee.”

Shaking his head, he wasn’t quite sure what to say.

His brother, who’d returned from his summer camping trip a week ago, had been keeping an unusually close eye on Preston and Sarah Sue—at least that’s how it felt to Preston. Garret rolled his eyes at his big brother. “Spit it out.”

Now his brother sounded lost in some oral metaphor or food fixation.

“You’re making faces. I know you’re thinking about something other than the cows that keep escaping the south pasture.”

Even though he wasn’t thinking about that, the south pasture had been a thorn in their side for almost a month now. Every time they replaced a downed section, the cows would knock over another area. If they’d not actually continued to find all the wayward cattle, Preston would have sworn that Ray was behind the continued setbacks, but the south pasture had nothing to do with the thoughts currently running through his mind. “It’s nothing.”

“Trouble in paradise?” Garret teased.

The innocent jab shouldn’t have struck a raw nerve, but it did. Preston bit down on his back teeth and willed the sharp words rushing to his tongue to settle down. “Paradise is just fine.”

Garret shook his head and glanced over his brother’s shoulder.

Unable to resist, Preston turned to see what had captured his brother’s attention. The women seated at the kitchen table laughing and chatting over who knew what, brought a slight smile to his face. The family scene seemed so normal, so happy, and so…right.

“Mom,” Garret called out. “I’m going to finish lunch on the back porch.”

“No feeding Brady. He’s starting to get a little thick around the middle.”

“No, Ma’am.” His brother shrugged an apology to the dog seated at his feet. “You heard her,” he whispered to the devoted German Shepherd.

Preston would have sworn the dog sighed. Lately, he was beginning to believe Brady was a human inside that fur coat.

“Join me, brother.” Garret cocked his head toward the back door and didn’t wait for a reply.

For as long as he could remember, whenever the siblings needed to work through something, whether personal or business, the best thinking and brainstorming was done at the table on the back porch. Even though they’d discussed the current family situation, including his and Sarah’s marriage for the trust, ad nauseam, Preston knew it was time for one more conversation.

“Want to tell me now what you were thinking?” Garret settled into a seat and stabbed at his food.

“Not much.”

“I call bullshit.”

Preston didn’t need a mirror to know his brows had just shot up kissing his hairline.

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