by Liz Isaacson
Chapter 7
Cami worked at her desk in the office she shared with Rhodes. The meeting had ended hours ago, and Betsy had been busy making lunch for the whole ranch. The texts had gone out, and the cowboys should be showing up any minute.
Her stomach growled, and she couldn’t wait to eat the baked potato soup Betsy had put together. The scent of freshly baked bread hung in the air, and the back door opened as the first cowboy arrived.
She refused to look up to see if it was Clay. She couldn’t believe she’d kissed him that morning, only moments before her brother and Wyatt had come in. He’d reacted with a flush staining his neck and face that Cami found really cute.
She sighed, and when the sound reached her ears, she realized how much trouble she was in. Sighing all softly like that?
So she liked Clay Martin. It wasn’t that big of a deal.
Don’t fall too fast, she told herself. After all, she’d sighed like this with Malcolm too. And the cowboy before him. And Gideon after.
She hadn’t quite made it out of the shine stage with Clay yet, but she paused in her spreadsheet and looked out the window. “Please let him stick around after the newness of this has worn off,” she prayed, her voice barely meeting her own ears.
The chatter in the house increased as more cowboys arrived, but Cami stayed at her desk. Yes, in the past, she’d made a point to go out and socialize with everyone. After all, the men who worked on the ranch were her dating pool, and she’d been out with a few of them. Nothing had ever been so serious that any awkwardness remained after the relationship ended, and that actually made Cami frown at her computer.
She heard Betsy call everyone to attention, and still, she didn’t get up and go join everyone in the kitchen. For some reason, she didn’t feel like talking today. Smiling at everyone. After all, she was the happy-go-lucky sister. Jessie got to glower. Betsy got to entertain. Georgia hung at the back of the crowd.
Cami was the one who went around and chatted, flirted, touched biceps, and asked how things were going. She didn’t work out on the ranch in the same way as Georgia or Jessie, and she wasn’t as public of a face as Betsy. She’d had to do something to get people to notice her, especially after being gone from the family ranch for so long.
Today, though, she didn’t. She wasn’t working, but she let her mind wander as she watched an autumn thunderstorm begin to darken the sky.
“Baked potato soup,” Clay said, setting a bowl down beside her. It was garnished with cheddar cheese, green onions, and bacon, just the way she liked it.
“Oh,” she said, surprise filling her. Even more shock bolted through her when he turned and closed the door, effectively drowning out some of the noise from the lunch happening in the kitchen and dining room.
He returned to her desk and pulled up a chair. “Is it okay if we eat together?” He nodded to the bowl of soup. “Betsy said that was your favorite. She got it all set up for me.” A soft, genuine, gorgeous smile adorned his face as he extended a spoon toward her.
“Thank you,” she said, pure happiness and gratitude moving through her. “And this is my favorite. What kind did you get?”
“Chicken noodle,” he said. “It’s my favorite.”
“Did your mom make it for you growing up?” she asked, realizing half a beat too late that she shouldn’t have asked him that.
“No,” he said. “But my dad did a couple of times when I was really sick.” Something foreign and that she couldn’t identify moved through his expression. “My mom wasn’t very domestic.”
“Oh,” Cami said, trying to think of something else to say. “I don’t know what I’m going to do when Betsy gets married and moves out.”
“No?” Clay took a bite of noodles and carrot. “You don’t cook?”
“I mean, a little bit,” she said.
“I’m good at sandwiches,” he said. “And hey, I’m thirty-three-years-old and haven’t died of starvation yet.” He kicked a grin in her direction, and Cami finally relaxed enough to dip her spoon into her soup.
“I love soup in the fall.”
“It’s the perfect meal,” he agreed. “Do you like sandwiches?”
“Sure,” she said. “What’s your favorite kind?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” he said, but his voice pitched up a couple of notes.
“Come on,” she said, teasing him. “You can tell me.”
“It won’t sound good.”
“Then you’ll have to make it for me.”
Clay chuckled and shook his head. “I don’t know about that. It’s something we always took when we’d go hiking. In fact, I never make it if I’m not planning on loading up a backpack and hiking up to a waterfall or something.”
“Not many waterfalls here,” she said. “Springs, I guess.”
“Sure, a spring works,” he said.
“So we’ll hike to a spring this weekend,” she said, hoping to get another date with him on the calendar. “And you’ll bring lunch.”
“You don’t even know what it’ll be,” he said.
“Then tell me your favorite sandwich.” She stirred together her toppings, watching as the cheese melted into the hot soup.
“It’s a spam and egg salad sandwich,” he said, and Cami jerked her attention back to him.
“You’re right. That doesn’t sound good at all.”
He tipped his head back and laughed, the sound magical in Cami’s ears. She joined him, shaking her head. “I didn’t mean that to be mean.”
“It’s fine,” he said. “Just wait until you try it. I know it sounds weird, but it’s so good.”
She almost wanted to take his word for it. Instead she said, “Great. Can’t wait until Saturday.” Then she dipped her spoon into her bowl and took a bite of her favorite soup. “Mm,” she moaned, and Clay chuckled again.
They chatted easily about the new irrigation project, and Clay’s dog, and even a little bit about their evening last night with her siblings.
“That wasn’t too weird?” she asked.
“Why would it be weird?” he asked.
Cami shrugged, though she’d laid awake in bed last night, hoping Clay had enjoyed himself. “I don’t know. I don’t normally integrate my….” She didn’t know how to continue, and she looked at Clay.
He simply watched her, that big, white cowboy hat perched perfectly on his head. She looked away as heat filtered through her.
“Boyfriend?” he asked, and Cami’s gaze flew back to his.
“Sure,” she said, though her voice scratched coming out. “I don’t normally bring men back to the homestead quite so early in a relationship.”
“I thought it was fun,” he said. “And your mother’s ice cream is fantastic.”
“Oh, I see,” she said, hoping to lighten the mood. “You came just for the ice cream.”
He laughed again, scraping the bottom of his bowl for his last bite of broth. He ate it and grinned at her. “The ice cream wasn’t the best part,” he said.
“No?” Cami asked, feeling daring and bold. “What was?” They hadn’t kissed, though Cami had been thinking about that too. In fact, it was a miracle she’d slept at all last night, what with the way her mind had been zooming around until the wee hours of the morning.
“I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe holding your hand. Or maybe that kiss on my cheek.”
“That was this morning, cowboy,” she said, her eyes dropping to his mouth. Pure desire dove through her, and she looked into Clay’s eyes again.
But he was looking at her mouth too, and he cleared his throat as he brought his eyes level with hers. They leaned toward one another, and Cami let her eyes drift closed, her heart pounding in the back of her throat.
“…it’s in here,” Rhodes said, the door opening as he entered.
Clay jumped away from Cami, standing and picking up their empty soup bowls, seemingly in the blink of an eye.
Rhodes glanced at them. “Hey, guys,” he said. “Things going okay?”
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br /> “Great,” Cami squeaked as Clay escaped. She felt red from the tips of her ears to the bottom of her feet, but her brother rummaged around in his desk, came up with something, and left. He didn’t pull the door closed, and Clay didn’t come back into the office.
Cami leaned back in her chair and tried to find him out in the kitchen, but she couldn’t see anyone. The noise had gone down, which meant people had eaten and left already.
She needed to do the same, and she pushed away from her desk, leaving the payroll spreadsheet she’d been working on.
Betsy stood at the sink, rinsing bowls. “Let’s go get a massage today,” Cami said. “My shoulders are tight from sitting at the computer.”
Her sister looked at her. “I bet they are.” She wore a sparkle in her eyes that made Cami squirm.
“What does that mean?”
“It means you’re all tight because of a certain cowboy, not your computer.” Betsy’s eyebrows went up.
“No,” Cami said quickly, though she wasn’t sure why she was denying it. She’d never hidden her feelings for the cowboys she went out with.
“I’m not going if you’re not going to tell me about Clay,” Betsy said. “And we have to invite Georgia. She’s feeling left out of things here at the ranch.”
“That’s because she’s not going to live here much longer,” Cami said, the weight of the words heavier than they’d been in the past.
“None of us are,” Betsy said, her eyes turning sad. She stopped working, almost like she’d just realized how many changes were coming to the ranch. To their branch of the Quinn family.
So many cousins had experienced similar things, with weddings and babies already for some of Cami’s cousins. She’d loved attending the weddings, because that occasion always called for new shoes.
She loved baby showers, because she got to eat cake. As she thought about her own future, she hoped she’d have the ultimate pair of new shoes for her own wedding, and the cake and cookies at her own baby shower.
Does Clay want children? she thought, and she turned away from Betsy. “How are the wedding plans coming?”
“Mine are almost done,” she said. “It’s Georgia that’s been having problems. I think that’s why she feels disconnected from us.”
“No,” Cami said. “It’s because she’s been spending more time out at that ranch Logan bought.” Which she should be, as she’d be living there and running things with him once they got married in November.
“The wedding is only six weeks away,” Betsy said quietly, and Cami knew her sister would miss Georgia the most.
Cami put her arm around Betsy and said, “And then yours is only six weeks after that.” Their eyes met, and panic ran through Betsy’s eyes.
“You’re right.”
“Hey, you have a handsome fiancé who loves you,” Cami said. “Don’t worry.” She swallowed back a quick jaunt of jealousy, determined not to compare herself to her siblings. Wasn’t that was Pastor Dahl had just said last night?
She smiled at her sister. “I’m calling Georgia right now. I’ve got to get out of the homestead for a little bit this afternoon.”
“Okay,” Betsy said, bending to load the dishwasher. “I’m in, as long as you talk about Clay.”
“Deal,” Cami said, deciding to invite Jessie too. She wouldn’t come, as she didn’t like getting a massage. But Cami did, and she’d call Raina too and find out if the three of them could have a massage in the same room. Her cousin would let them do that, if they had enough massage therapists to staff three appointments at once.
Please, Cami prayed as she dialed Georgia first. She really needed a girly afternoon with her family to get her mind in the right place concerning Clay and their budding relationship.
Chapter 8
Clay pulled up to the organic farm and parked beside another truck. Carter Quinn grew the best fruits and vegetables in the county, and Clay liked to come out to the farm and get a few things a couple times a month.
They’d deliver too, but since Clay didn’t exactly make a meal plan, he never knew what to order or when. But he knew that he wanted to ask Cami to come to dinner tomorrow night, and he wanted to make a grilled chicken Waldorf salad that his one and only college girlfriend had taught him to make.
He hadn’t made it for a while, but he knew Carter would have the lettuces and fruit he needed to make the salad a success. It was mostly a lot of chopping—and the grilling of a chicken breast—and he felt confident he could pull it off.
He wasn’t sure why he wanted to impress Cami with his culinary skills, especially because he didn’t have many of those. Seemed like he should try to win her over with his muscles or his ability to train a dog, because he honestly wasn’t sure what would win over Camille Quinn. She’d been out with a lot of cowboys, and maybe she didn’t know herself what she wanted.
“Hey, Clay,” Carter said, coming out of the small barn where he sold his organic produce. “What are you looking for?”
How to impress a pretty woman, he thought, wondering how Carter had won over Avery. “Kale,” he said. “And something else that would be good in the Waldorf salad.”
“We have apples,” he said, turning to go back inside. “And I’ve probably got a few other things you’d like.”
Clay certainly hoped so, because he’d snuck off the ranch to make this produce run. He needed a break from the work he normally did, and when he got back, he’d make sure Trooper got his play time. Though the dog got out of the house plenty as he worked on the farm with Clay and the other cowboys, Clay liked to make sure Trooper got his ball-chasing in for the day.
And then he needed to get Cami by five so they could get to town and have dinner before the fireside that evening.
He picked out apples, potatoes, lettuces, herbs, and tomatoes before getting back in his truck and hurrying back to the ranch. He ran down the road with Trooper and threw the ball out into the grassy fields. The dog barked to himself, almost a private, personal encouragement to keep looking for that ball until he found it, which made Clay smile.
He’d gone through his list of things to accomplish in a day, though he hadn’t done much for safety. Not getting injured counted, he supposed, but he actually wondered if he was risking his safety by going out with Cami.
After all, the woman definitely had the ability to stomp on his heart.
“Hey,” she said, and he turned toward her, surprise picking up his pulse and dropping it quickly.
“What time is it?” he asked. He was supposed to pick her up at five, and while he’d been pressed for time, he hadn’t lost track of too much time…had he?
“Four-something,” she said. “I was out here giving something to Gil, and I saw you come this way.” She smiled at him, and Clay glanced back down the road toward the row of cabins. He couldn’t see anyone, and he easily received Cami into his arms as she neared him.
“I still need to shower,” he said, his pulse suddenly hammering in his chest. “I was just going to head back.”
“Great.” She smiled up at him. “We can walk together. I’ll hurry back to the homestead and change while you shower.”
Trooper barked, startling Clay, and he stepped away from Cami to pick up the ball and throw it again. Then he took Cami back into his arms. He wanted to kiss her before their date that night, and he liked the way Cami traced her fingernails along the back of his neck.
Her eyes drifted closed, and Clay took that as her permission to kiss her.
So he swiped his cowboy hat off his head and pressed it against her back as he lowered his mouth to hers. He didn’t waste time with a tease or a touch but kissed her like he’d been thinking about doing for months now.
She gripped his shoulders and kissed him back, and Clay’s nerves quieted. He pulled back a few seconds later. “I haven’t kissed anyone in a while,” he whispered.
“Who was the last woman you kissed?” she asked, her lips catching on his as she kissed him again.
Clay didn
’t want to answer, though he wasn’t embarrassed and had nothing to hide. No, he didn’t want to answer, because that meant he’d have to stop kissing Cami, and he didn’t want to do that.
So he didn’t, and kissing Cami easily the best part of his day, and he hoped he could add it to his daily list of must-do’s.
Clay floated through the walk back to his cabin, the conversation between him and Cami easy. He wasn’t sure if falling was supposed to be easy, but this relationship felt so simple. She left him with a sly smile and the ghost of her fingers in his so he could shower.
He worried through soaping up and rinsing off. Maybe Cami didn’t want simple. “She probably shouldn’t date so many cowboys then,” he said into the spray, deciding he needed to stop obsessing about everything.
She’d kissed him, and she’d sure seemed to like that—and him. He knew better than most that relationships and situations could be made into something more than they were with too much mental energy. Every person saw things differently, and from Clay’s experiences with his brothers, he knew perspective made a huge difference.
They didn’t think anything of him leaving Wyoming. Didn’t think they needed to invite him to be part of their ranch operations there. Simply didn’t think of him.
His chest pinched, where his heart struggled to beat. The moment passed quickly, as they always did when it came to his family, and Clay combed his hair and set his cowboy hat in place. Feeling whole now, with his belt buckle, cowboy boots, and cowboy hat in place, he drew in a deep breath and checked on Trooper’s water.
“Need more, bud?”
The dog lay on the floor near the air conditioning vent, his tongue still hanging out of his mouth as he continued to pant. Clay chuckled at his friend, refilled the water bowl, and added a handful of ice because he knew the dog liked to chomp on it.
Sure enough, Trooper dragged himself to his feet and went over to the bowl, which clunked as the ice cubes hit the sides. He lapped the fresh water and grabbed an ice cube.