Page 5 of A Cowboy's Claim
Over the next hour, Declan didn’t get much more out of the man than he hoped to be gone in under a week. Russ nodded at the rules, but his eyes never stopped scanning exits. He looked exhausted but on edge, the way someone looks after weeks of dodging trouble.
Declan gave the man a pass. Escaping a situation where you had to constantly watch your back—it wasn’t a thing to turn off in an instant. Hell, living on fumes and fear made a person jumpy as well. Declan knew that from personal experience.
“Clean clothes are in your room. Supper’s at six. Family style. You’ll be number ten at the table tonight.”
Alarm lit Russ’s expression. “Seriously?”
“Unless there’s a good reason for you to avoid showing your face, it’s how we do things. If it’s too much, I’ll make other arrangements.”
Russell mulled it over. “No, I’ll manage. Just didn’t expect so many people.”
“Only two ranch hands besides you,” Declan said. “The rest is family and staff. My brothers, their partners, two kids, and our counselor.”
Russell stiffened. “Don’t need therapy. Don’t want a shrink up in my business.”
“Good to know. Then you can just have a nice quiet meal and listen to everyone else talk.”
The man nodded then shuffled off, head swaying from side to side as he kept watch on his surroundings.
Declan stood his ground and pondered until Russ vanished into his room. What effect did having that kind of burden on a man’s back cause? To be so fearful for his life that he couldn’t walk across the yard with his head held high?
Declan slipped into his apartment and grabbed a quick shower himself before heading up to the house.
He was one step from the porch when Sydney’s truck rolled down the lane.
And just like that, his thoughts scattered like startled birds.
He’d been turning their situation over in his mind for weeks. The sex had started as spontaneous and secret. Now it was…more.
Or at least he wanted it to be.
He’d been about to suggest they should take their relationship out into the open when he’d gotten clobbered on the head. It hadn’t seemed the time to change things up. Not with all the other big adjustments in the High Water household plus adding a five-year-old.
But the twisting in his gut at the simple sight of her made it clear something needed to happen.
You set the rules. You can change them.
It sounded like Sadie’s voice, no matter how many years had passed. Clear as ever. Calling him out on his own bullshit.
It still hurt, thinking about her being gone. But his subconscious, or his id, or whatever the hell they called the part of the brain that wouldn’t let a person blow smoke up their own ass, was calling the shots right now.
It was time.
He’d been grieving for Sadie, and nothing had interrupted that pain but the plans for High Water. Then he’d still been grieving but ready for sex, and Sydney had jumped in with both feet.
He didn’t think he’d ever fully be done grieving for Sadie, but superficial sex, even spectacular superficial sex, wasn’t enough anymore.
Which meant he had some figuring out to do. Sydney was everything Declan had ever wanted in a woman. He liked them smart, he liked them sexy, and he liked them stubborn.
But the affair with Sydney had a strict fun-and-fucking-onlymandate. Now that he was ready for more, he’d have to convince her she wanted him too.
The petite redhead dropped from her massive truck, bouncing up like usual. She slammed the door shut and marched forward, all fiery flash and determined motion. “Hey, you. Petra invited me to crash your dinner party yet again, and I couldn’t resist.”
“Tansy isn’t cooking; Aiden is,” he warned her.
Sydney laughed. “I know, but even your brother’s cooking skills are better than mine. I’ll take my chances. I do need to eat.”
He had to be feverish, or simply too mentally tangled up to be thinking straight. Because what he should have done was open the front door and follow her in. Take his time and develop a game plan of some sort.
