Page 37 of Rough Cowboy
“I gotta grab my truck’s keys, then we’re out,” he mutters.
“Yes, sir.”
Sammy disappears down the hallway.
My heart races at the sight of her. There are a hundred things I want to apologize for, and she likely hates me for fifty more stupid ass things I don’t remember doing.
But I can’t.
“Let’s kick up some dust and have a ton of fun.”
Sammy’s boots trek over the dirty carpet. “And maybe we’ll make a world champion.”
So do the one thing she’s afraid I’ll do, and I walk away from her.
Chapter Eight
ELSIE
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“HOT CHEETOS AND YOGURT, check,” Sammy shouts from the kitchen.
“Netflix and cozy blankets, check.” I rearrange the pillows on the new beige upholstered L-shaped sectional.
Lydia swept through like a miracle and deep-cleaned the entire house. Every inch sparkles as much as an outdated seventies decor can sparkle. The carpets turned out to be orange, and while they’re now clean, they still need to be ripped up. The faux brown paneling is in dire need of a coat of paint which is being delivered tomorrow. I’m excited to tackle the project.
“And I didn’t forget the vanilla yogurt.” Sammy juggles a big red and white striped bowl under each arm. One hand carries a tub of yogurt with a spoon sticking out the top. The other hand curls his fingers around the stems of two wine glasses, and I know he’s hiding a bottle of non-alcoholic rosé.
I set a plaid blanket on his side of the couch and toss one on my side before I take the glasses from him.
Lydia oiled the teak boomerang coffee table, and it’s one of the pieces of furniture that suits the space. I set the glasses on a couple of coasters, and he places the bowls beside the drinks.
He flashes a pink bottle. “Meet your new bubbly best friend.”
“I’ll need it since you’re leaving for a few days,” I pout as he twists a corkscrew to open the bottle.
