Page 85 of Will Bark for Pizza
“Yes.”
“I sure as hell hope you listened to me,” Nana mumbled.
“She lives in Nebraska,” I explained. “She’s just here visiting.”
Except, after last night, I wasn’t so sure. She might stay. She might buy Karl’s cabin, and move home. I didn’t know how to feel about any of that yet. Did Iwanther to stay, or would that overcomplicate things?
“Good. Keep it in your pants until she’s gone.”
Christ, this conversation was too much for how fucking tired I was. I scrubbed a hand over my face to hide a yawn. How Nana, who’d been flying since late last night, was wide awake, was beyond me. I was still wiped from the drive to Denver to pick her up. But there was no nap in my future today. Nana wasn’t the type of woman to take it easy, even if jetlagged. Which, I suspected, she wasn’t.
All I did on the drive to the airport was think aboutthat kiss. That fucking axis-tilting kiss that had me all messed up in the head.
Kira Mason wasn’t mine.
She could neverbemine.
I had no fucking business kissing her.
Or wanting to do it again.
Even if she kissed me first.
It no longer mattered who initiated our kiss. We were both headed on the same collision course. If Luke had arrived a minute earlier, we’d have been caught. That alone should knock some fucking sense into me.
One kiss shouldn’t have me so jumbled.
And yet, within only a few days of meeting her, I felt compelled to be around her every chance I got. To hear that beautiful laughter. Tease that heart-stopping smile from her lips. To cause that sexy barely audible whimper to escape her throat. To give her . . .everything.
Maybe it was a good thing Nana was here.
If this was a bad idea—and yeah, it fucking was—Nana would straighten me out before I ruined what I’d established in Bluebell Springs over a woman. She wouldn’t let me fall victim to another redheaded curse. At least, I hoped not.
“Cute farm,” Nana said, squinting and leaning forward. Before I could explain why they called itthe farm, Nana kept right on talking. “Where are all the animals?”
“Connor has chickens,” I offered.
“Hmm.”
“And there’s a rescue cow named Millie.”
As I parked the truck, I caught a blur of white shootacross the yard. Husker was on the loose, and Red was running after him.
“And a dog, I see,” Nana added as Kira caught the leash, much to Husker’s dismay. He was clearly on a quest to chase down his chipmunk nemesis.
“That’s Husker, Kira’s dog.”
“Oh, Beckett,” she said with exasperation, patting my leg. “Looks like I got here just in time.”
“Nana—”
“Hurry up, now,” she said, pushing open her door. “I want to meet everyone.”
I pulled Nana’s second suitcase from the back of my truck, and closed the door. It was heavy, as though she’d stowed away a body or two. She’d be the first to tell you she wasn’t known for traveling light. But this seemed excessive, even for her.
She hadn’t mentioned a return flight, and now I understood why. Nana was planning to stick around for a while—as a welcome guest of the Westons.
I shouldn’t be surprised at how easily she melded into the Mason-Weston clan. She came bearing thoughtful gifts for people I’d mentioned only a handful of times. She and Connie were swapping recipes within an hour of meeting, Dale was puffing on a specialty cigar near the firepit, and Opal listened in rapture as she shared stories of her world travels over lunch. The two spoke of Italy as if they’dbothbeen there before, though Connor assured us all Opal had never traveled out of the country, andthey had no idea where this sudden fascination came from.
