Page 37 of Every Single Wildflower
A smile graces those perfect lips as she looks at me, then over at the ridge. “I did miss it.” She faces me again. “I missed this.”
Chapter twenty-eight
Ivy
A sharp knock at the door has me jolting. My clumsy hands spill the glass of tea I just poured onto the countertop. Snatching up a paper towel, I clean up the mess while simultaneously yelling, “come in!”
Dakota waltzes through the door, her hair curled and herdance my assoff jeans as she calls them covering her long legs.
“Don’t give me that look.” She shuts the door before propping her hands on her hips.
“Are you ok?” I ask.
I toss the towel in the trash as I scan her face. No signs of the heavy emotion I know that comes along with her father’s sporadic phone calls.
“I’m great!” She hikes a thumb over her shoulder. “Shep here?”
Everyone around this town calls Maddox, Shep. Everyone but me.
“No, he was unsaddling Sugarfoot and had to check on the bulls.” I realize my mistake when a perfect dark eyebrow lifts on her forehead.
“You went riding? With Maddox?” Her eyebrow stays intact, her arms crossing next.
“It wasn’t a big deal.” I wave her off.
It wasn’t. I rode a horse for the first time in years. He walked next to me for over two hours. He took me to my favorite place.Absolutely no big deal.
“Ivy, that’s huge.” She smiles.
“It wasn’t like we were riding off into the sunset.” I walk around the bar and amble to the sofa. “He led me around. It was practically child's play.”
“He led you?” She drops her arms and scurries around to fall down on the sofa next to me. “Where to?”
I hesitate, my cheeks heating. “The ridge.”
Her grin spreads. “So, Maddox Sheppard spent the afternoon walking over a mile on foot just so you could get back on a horse for the first time?”
I roll my eyes. “Dakota.”
“What?” She shrugs. “You want to tell me what that’s about?”
No.
“It’s not about anything.” I pluck at a loose thread on the couch. “Coop suggested it. It’s the only reason we went.”
“Coop huh?” She levels me with her blue eyes. “It wasn’t Coop taking you out to the ridge, was it?”
“Speaking of Cooper.” I try to steer the conversation to safer territory.
Dakota is smart and can sniff out bullshit better than anyone I know. Which is why I’ve always avoided the subject of the cowboy in question.
“Ivy Mayson.” She flicks my arm. “Stop changing the subject.”
“There’s nothing to tell.” I throw my hands up, running them through my hair.
Her eyes soften just enough for me to realize;she already knows.
“How long have you known?” I ask while closing my eyes.
