Page 59 of Owned By The Cowboy
“What does that mean?” I ask.
“I don’t know. But I know I want to find out.”
Before I can respond, Annalise bounces into the kitchen.
“Mama, Blayne said he’ll help me practice my math facts after dinner. Is that okay?”
“Of course, baby.”
“And he said maybe this weekend we could go to the park, and he’ll teach me how to throw a football.”
“Did he now?”
“Uh-huh! And Nia said maybe he could come to her next volleyball game when her ankle’s better.”
I look at Blayne over Annalise’s head, and he shrugs with a small smile.
“Sounds like you’ve got a busy few weeks ahead,” I tell him with a smile and a cocked eyebrow, hand on my hip.
“Looking forward to it.” He winks. The bastard freaking winks after stealing both my heart and panties in one move.
And the scary thing is, I think he really means it. This man, who could be doing anything with his time, who probably has women lining at his doorstep (don’t think about that Reggie!), wants to spend it teaching my six-year-old how to throw a football and watching my fourteen-year-old play volleyball.
When was the last time anyone made my kids a priority like that? When was the last time anyone made me feel like we were worth that kind of attention?
“Dinner’s ready,” I announce, because if I keep thinking about all this, I’m going to start crying or climb Blayne like a goddamn tree, and I’ve done enough crying for one day. And the other option is gonna have to wait until later…
When we all gather around the table, Blayne helping Nia with her crutches, Mama fussing over everyone’s plates, my kids chattering about their day, I think, this is what I want. This feeling, this sense of family, this man who shows up when we need him and treats my children like they’re important to him too.
The thought should terrify me. Instead, for the first time in months, I feel like maybe everything’s going to be okay. And maybe better than okay. Perfect.
Seventeen
Blayne
Three days later, I’m standing in Reggie’s living room trying to figure out how the hell I ended up agreeing to family movie night. Not that I’m complaining—I just don’t remember the conversation that led to me being here on a Thursday night with a bag of microwave popcorn and three kids arguing over what to watch.
“We should watch something scary,” Jaylen says, scrolling through options.
“No way,” Annalise protests from her spot on the floor, surrounded by about fifteen stuffed animals. “I don’t like scary movies.” She pouts.
“You don’t like anything good,” he shoots back.
“That’s not true! I like lots of things!”
“Name one movie that isn’t animated.”
“Um…” She scrunches up her face, thinking hard. “The one with the dancing!”
“That doesn’t narrow it down, princess,” I tell her with a grin. “Half the movies ever made have dancing in them.”
She beams back at me. “The one where the girl dances with the beast!”
“Beauty and the Beast is animated,” Nia points out from the couch, where she’s got her ankle propped up on a pillow. I shake my head. She’s milking this injury for all it’s worth. Smart girl.
“The new one isn’t!”
“Fine,” Jaylen sighs dramatically. “We’ll watch your princess movie.”
