Page 13 of A Cowboy's Trust
“I set plenty of goals,” Tansy insisted. “I try to make them ones I can actively implement. Not things that are dependent on other people. You want to talk about the ultimate goal setter, though, that’s what my sister Fern does best. She’s been plotting and planning for years—I’m pretty sure you two would get along great.”
“We do. I mean, the few times we’ve done stuff together. Like preparing for this weekend and beyond. Since she works for Chance, she’s helping coordinate a lot of the retreat house details.”
“I knew you’d met, but I didn’t realize you’d had more interactions.” Tansy thought for a minute. “Let me help you be spontaneous. I haven’t seen my sister Rose since she and Chance got back from Ireland, and we’re getting together with the family tonight. Fern will also be there, and my sister Ivy and her family.”
A look of horror crossed his face. “I can’t drop in unannounced at a family gathering.”
Tansy snickered. “Trust me, until you’ve been to one of my family dinners, you have no idea what you’re dropping in on. It’d be good for you.”
“That might be a little too spontaneous for me to begin with,” he grumbled, and Tansy was once again reminded of trying to move a giant St. Bernard from where he’d settled for a nap.
“You’re not a hopeless case. You were spontaneous on New Year’s Eve,” she generously pointed out.
His jaw hung open as if shocked that she reminded him. His face went red with embarrassment, but he did maintain eye contact. “It was New Year’s Eve. Plus, it was only a kiss.”
“You should stick to that, then. Stealth kisses. I wouldn’t mind—you’re a great kisser.”
Dear God, she was going to die laughing. Silently, inside, because she didn’t want to embarrass him more than simply talking about the kiss was already doing.
Jake alternately opened and closed his mouth in a wonderful imitation of a fish, cheeks completely flushed. “I don’t think we should get involved. You’re working here, I’m working here. It’s not a good idea.”
“Who said anything about getting involved?” she asked in all seriousness. “I just said you’re a good kisser, and if you need to practice being spontaneous, I’m okay with it.”
He pushed back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest. “Yeah, no. Kisses lead to other things. I’m not comfortable going there with you.”
“Trust issues?”
“Yes,” he stated plainly.
Oh. “All righty. Enough said.” Consent was one of thosegood for the goose and good for the ganderthings. “Forget kissing. I still think you should come to dinner with me. The invitation stands.”
She rose from the table and headed to the stove, stirring and seasoning and adjusting temperatures. She grabbed three dozen eggs, put a dozen into a pot to boil then broke the others into the blender to make breakfast bites for anyone who wanted them later.
She twisted at high speed with her hands full of eggshells and smacked right into Jake. The double-handful of stickiness smashed against his rock-solid chest and shattered even farther. “Shit.”
He glanced down in annoyance at the broken shards adhering to his shirt, glued on with the remaining bits of egg white that had clung to the shell. A healthy dusting of shells lay at their feet as well—the perfect storm of kitchen disasters.
But his lips twitched slightly as he met her eyes. “Fine. Let’s be spontaneous. What time are we heading over to your parents?”
4
He supposed this was some kind of cosmic karma paying him back for being a grump the past two weeks. But even he knew that, when every time he turned around the same thing smacked him in the face, it was time to cave.
Tansy got the meal prepped for High Water—chicken stew with biscuits and apple pie for dessert—then just before five, she nabbed Jake and hustled him out the door.
Sitting in the passenger seat of Tansy’s SUV seemed as if they were daring the universe a touch too hard. “You’re a far braver woman than I knew, Tansy Fields.”
She snickered, head checking as she switched lanes and headed into Heart Falls proper. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you white knuckling it over there. I’m not a bad driver.”
“No, you’re a good driver.” He could give her that much. “But even a good driver doesn’t stand a chance with bare tires and a brake system that’s out of kilter.”
She pumped said brakes a couple of times, expertly dealing with the layer of black ice that coated the entire road at the four-way stop intersection. “ZenBaby might not sound or look pretty, but I am up on his vehicle maintenance, thank you very much.”
“ZenBaby?”
She patted the dash fondly. “ZenBaby. He’s a little old, but I love him.”
Jake locked his jaw together, partly so that if they did get in a crash, he wouldn’t bite his tongue off.
