Page 126 of Duke
“Very dirty. And I like them very much.”
“Would you say I”—I pick up a tool and toss it in my hand—“threw a wrench into your plans for the afternoon, Miss Rankin?”
“Ha.”
“You all right? Feeling any better?”
Wheeler was hit by a vicious bout of nausea after breakfast this morning. Dr. Martinez informed us that the morning sickness can get worse before it gets better, peaking between nine and eleven weeks, and that’s definitely been the case over the past few days.
Luckily Mollie was with her at the New House when it happened, but I still rode like the devil from the north pasture to check on her. She assured me she’d be all right and insisted I get back to work. I stayed with her for some lunch, then headed back to the herd.
Not long after that, the trailer tire blew out. Took me over an hour to drag it back to the garage. Another hour to change out the tire, because someone took it upon themselves to hide the tools I needed underneath the baler nearby.
I really hope it’s quitting time soon. If only so I can go home with my girl.
“I’m feeling all right. Just had a snack, which helps.”
“Good.” I toss up the wrench one last time before catching it. Then I put it back in the toolbox.
She blinks again, straightening. “I willnotlet your hot mechanic look distract me. I have a surprise for you.”
I gesture to the front of my Wranglers. “And I have one foryou.”
Her face creases into a smile at that, tongue darting out to move over her bottom lip. “Mine first.”
“Aw, Blue, I’m not sure I’m gonna be able to wait that long.” I close the distance between us in four long, lazy strides. “I’ve a mind to dirty you up too.”
Those brown eyes dance. “Don’t youdareget grease on this dress. Shower first. Then we can do all the surprises.”
“Deal.”
“Meet me at the cottage when you’re done.”
I have no idea what to expect when I pull up to my house ten minutes later. Giving myself a good scrub in the quickest shower ever, I dry off, then pull on a clean T-shirt and jeans.
When I emerge from the bathroom, I hear Wheeler and Mollie chatting on the porch. The front windows are open, so I’m able to catch what they’re saying.
“He’s gonna flip his shit when he sees these boots,” Mollie squeals, trying—and failing—to keep her voice down. “Wheeler, I amobsessed.”
“I am too,” Wheeler gasps. “I mean, feel this goatskin. It’s smooth as a baby’s bottom.”
My stomach takes a hard tumble, landing somewhere on the ground between my feet.
Boots.
Goatskin.
Baby.
“Have I told you yet how happy I am that we’re having our babies together?” Mollie asks.
I hear the smile in Wheeler’s voice when she replies, “Just a few hundred times.”
“Thank God we have each other.”
“And our cowboys. Speaking of, did you ever call Miss Lee back?”
Now I’m smiling. Miss Lee is Sawyer and Ava’s nanny. Last night, Wheeler and I chatted about our childcare options on an after-dinner stroll. We both want to continue working full-time, so we agreed we’d ideally hire a nanny. It’s a huge privilege to be able to afford that kind of help, but I can swing it.
