9. Travis
TRAVIS
The float valve in the south pasture trough had been sticking for three days, and I was running out of patience.
I pulled the cover loose and reached down into water cold enough to make my fingers ache. It took some working, but the mechanism finally moved the way it was supposed to. The cattle had gathered twenty feet away, heads angled toward the trough while I worked.
My phone buzzed from the truck.
I made myself tighten the fitting before I grabbed it. I'd checked the damn thing four times since sunrise already hoping for a text from Kaycee.
The message was from the feed store. I tossed the phone onto the seat and slammed the door.
Kaycee had been back in Bozeman for two days. She'd called both nights. We'd texted enough that I knew she'd eaten Thai food at her desk yesterday and that her upstairs neighbor had started learning to play the drums.
Nothing was wrong. That might have been the problem.
She'd gone back to her apartment and her work, and I'd gone back to the ranch. We talked at night. She sent me a picture of the wilted flowers on her balcony. I sent her one of Bandit trying to pull a glove out of my back pocket.
It was working exactly the way she'd said it could, but I still wanted her back here.
The phone buzzed again before I reached the gate. This time her name was on the screen.
Kaycee: Finishing this job early. How attached are you to having dinner alone?
I read it twice to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating.
Me: Depends on who's asking.
Her answer came right away.
Kaycee: The woman who knows what your bookkeeping looked like in 2019.
I laughed.
Me: Low blow.
Kaycee: Accurate though.
Me: What time?
Kaycee: Sixish. Unless you've got better plans.
I looked across the pasture at three hundred acres of cattle and no plans worth mentioning.
Me: I’ll see what I can do.
Her reply was a single thumbs-up.
I shoved the phone into my pocket and went back to work, except now I knew exactly how many hours stood between me and six. That wasn't irritating at all.
The rodeo grounds still needed cleanup, so I headed into town after lunch to help tear down the last temporary stock panels. Most of the vendors had cleared out, and the parking lot that had been packed on Labor Day looked too big without trucks and trailers filling every row.
Beau Jordan was already behind the arena when I got there. His family’s land butted up against mine and we’d known each other since we were kids. He’d never given me shit about my reputation and had been one of the only people who’d checked on me after my mom died.
He stood next to a flatbed trailer with one hand on a steel panel, looking like somebody had tried to build a cowboy to scale and gotten carried away. Beau had a good few inches on me and enough width through his shoulders that the panel probably weighed less than some of his boots.
Two of his Clydesdales waited by the trailer, huge and patient, their tails flicking at flies while Beau worked.
“You're late,” he said.
“I didn't know you were keeping tabs on me.”
“Somebody has to.”
I grabbed the other end of the panel and helped him carry it toward the trailer. We stacked it with the others, then headed back for another.
My phone buzzed in my pocket.
Beau looked at me.
I ignored it.
We lifted the next panel.
“Are you going to check that?” he asked.
“No.”
He gave me an easy, knowing grin, then kept working with making further comment.
I waited until we'd loaded the panel before pulling out my phone.
Kaycee: Leaving in an hour. Need anything from Bozeman?
I started typing.
Beau leaned one hip against the trailer. “You texting with Kaycee?”
I looked up. “Do you make a habit of prying into other peoples’ lives?”
“No, but most people aren't as obvious.”
I sent the text and tucked my phone back in my pocket. “She's coming for dinner.”
“Sounds nice.”
“That's it?”
Beau frowned. “What else do you want me to say?”
“Nothing.”
I picked up the next panel, so he'd quit looking so pleased with himself.
We carried it halfway to the trailer before I glanced over at him. “You look like you’ve got something to say.”
He adjusted his end of the panel. “You’re the one making it sound like dinner doesn’t count.”
“She’s got a life in Bozeman.”
“So?”
“So I’m not asking her to give it up.”
“Good.” Beau kept walking. “That’d be stupid.”
I looked over at him.
He shrugged. “Wanting her here more isn’t the same as asking her to give something up.”
We reached the trailer and slid the panel onto the stack.
Beau stepped back and brushed his gloves together. “Maybe tell her that instead of arguing with me about it.”
One of the Clydesdales stretched his neck toward Beau's shoulder, and Beau reached up to scratch beneath the horse's jaw without looking.
“Is that supposed to be relationship advice?”
“Nope.”
“Good, because I'm not taking relationship advice from you.”
Beau stopped long enough to look over his shoulder. “Never said you should.”
Then he kept walking.
I stood next to the trailer for another second before following him.
“That's still advice.”
“Then ignore it.”
He bent to pick up the next panel.
I grabbed the other side. “I liked you better when you weren't talking.”
“Most people do.”
That was the end of it, which was probably why the conversation stayed with me the whole drive home.
Kaycee pulled into the drive at twelve minutes past six. I knew that because I'd checked the clock at six ten and had just opened the refrigerator for the second time when I heard tires on gravel.
I stepped onto the porch as she parked.
For the first time since I'd met her, she got out of her car without a folder, laptop bag, or stack of records in her hands. She had an overnight bag instead.
I walked down the steps and took the bag from her. “Are you hungry?”
“I've been smelling whatever you've got on the grill since I opened my door.”
“Good. It’s almost ready.”
She smiled and rose up onto her tiptoes to kiss me. Two days wasn't long enough to explain why having her mouth under mine again felt like I'd been waiting a hell of a lot longer.
I kept one hand at her waist when she stepped back. “How was the drive?”
“Fine. My upstairs neighbor survived another day without murdering a drum kit. And I finished the client job, so I'm officially free until Monday.”
Monday… that would give us four nights together if I didn’t fuck it up. I carried her bag inside.
She followed me into the kitchen and stopped next the counter. “Wow. You really can cook.”
My chest swelled a little as I grabbed two bottles of craft beer from the fridge.
Dinner was steaks, potatoes, and corn. Kaycee told me about the client she'd finished while I pulled the meat off the grill, and I told her Beau had nearly worked me to death cleaning up rodeo panels.
She laughed. “Beau Jordan?”
“You know him?”
“I met him for about thirty seconds at the rodeo.”
“He's hard to miss.”
“That's one way to put it.”
I set our plates on the table. “He's got Clydesdales. Makes him think he's fancy.”
“I don't think anyone who spent the afternoon loading livestock panels gets to be fancy.”
“Tell him that.”
We ate without running out of things to say.
That still surprised me. Most of my previous relationships hadn't involved much quiet conversation.
Drinks, dancing, sex, whatever happened afterward.
Kaycee could spend ten minutes explaining exactly why one of her clients had made a terrible accounting decision and somehow make me want to hear the ending.
When we finished, she carried her plate to the sink and opened the cabinet under it without asking where anything went. Seeing her move around comfortably in my space only solidified my desire to have her here more.
I leaned against the counter while she washed her hands. “What are you working on next week?”
“A business dispute out of Helena. Most of it is document review, so I can work remotely.”
“From Bozeman?”
She dried her hands and turned toward me. “From anywhere.”
That was my opening. Beau’s words ran through my head. I almost let the moment pass. Since when did asking a woman to stick around take more nerve than throwing a steer in front of a grandstand full of people?
I rubbed my palm over the back of my neck. “I want you here more.”
She waited. Dammit, she was going to make me work for it.
“Not because you've got another audit,” I said. “Not because you need records or somebody to drive you around a pasture. I want you showing up because you want to be here.”
“I am here because I want to be.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
I looked at her. She wasn't mad. She wasn't even pushing very hard. She was waiting for me to stop taking the easy way out.
“I keep expecting you to decide this was fun and go back to your real life.”
Kaycee rested her hip against the counter. “You know you're allowed to be part of my real life, right?”
“I’m getting there.”
“Then tell me what you want.”
I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, uncomfortable being put on the spot. What was I even bracing for? Her saying no, or her saying yes and meaning it? Either way, I needed to know.
“I want you, Kaycee. Here… in Bozeman… whatever the hell we can figure out.” I shoved my hands into my pockets so I wouldn't start messing with something that didn't need fixing. “I just don't want this to turn into something we do when you've got a free weekend.”
She watched me for a second. Then she smiled.
“What?”
“I rearranged next Thursday and Friday so I could work from here too.”
I stared at her. “You did?”
“I was going to tell you after dinner.”
“You could've led with that.”
“And miss this?” Her smile widened. “Not a chance.”
I stepped closer.
Kaycee put one hand against my chest before I could kiss her. “I'm not giving up my place in Bozeman.”
“I didn't ask you to.”
“And I'm not promising exactly what this looks like six months from now.”
I covered her hand with mine. “Anything else?”
“Yes.” She looked straight at me. “I’m choosing this, Travis. I want you, too.”
The tightness in my chest gave way to relief. Kaycee grabbed my shirt and pulled me closer, and I backed her against the counter before remembering the sharp corner she'd nearly hit the first time.
She laughed when I moved her sideways. “You're still worried about the counter?”
“Yeah. Let’s go upstairs.”
Her fingers tightened in my shirt. “You’re pretty bossy.”
“You started it.”
She kissed me again before taking my hand and leading me toward the stairs.
The second time wasn't like the first. I already knew how she liked to be kissed when I wanted her to stop talking. I knew the spot behind her ear that made her grip my shoulders, and she knew exactly what to do with her mouth to make me forget whatever smart-ass comment I'd been planning to say.
We lost clothes between the bedroom door and the bed without either of us paying much attention to where they landed. Kaycee pushed me back onto the mattress and climbed over me, her hair falling around her face as she kissed me.
I ran both hands along her thighs. “I thought I was being the bossy one.”
“Seems like you're adaptable.”
“Apparently.”
She smiled against my mouth, then shifted over me in a way that wiped out anything else I might've said.
There was no hesitation between us now. I didn't have to ask what every change in her breathing meant because I remembered. She didn't wait for me to take the lead when she wanted something different.
When I rolled her underneath me, she hooked a leg around my hip and pulled me close.
“Condom,” she said.
“Yes, ma’am.” I laughed and reached for the drawer.
A minute later I was back between her thighs, and the first slow push inside her made her fingers close around my shoulders. Her eyes stayed on mine. I kissed her before moving again.
This time we found our rhythm faster. She knew when to pull me closer and when to tell me to go harder. She also knew exactly how much I liked hearing my name when she was close.
I wasn't thinking about slowing down to savor it because this might not happen again. I also wasn't thinking about what might happen when morning came. She'd told me she was coming back Thursday, and I believed her enough to stay right where I was.
After, she sprawled across my chest while I ran my hand slowly along her back. Her breathing had settled, and one of her legs was tangled with mine under the sheet.
“You got quiet,” she said.
I looked down at her. “Just thinking.”
“About?”
I ran my hand slowly along her back. “This.”
Her mouth curved against my chest. “Good thinking or bad thinking?”
“Good.”
She settled closer, one hand resting over my ribs. “Then you can keep doing it.”
I smiled and kissed the top of her head.
Later, Kaycee disappeared into the bathroom while I picked our clothes off the floor. When I went in after her, she was standing at the sink brushing her teeth.
When she was done, she set her toothbrush in the holder beside mine.
I stopped in the doorway.
Kaycee caught my reflection in the mirror. “It's a toothbrush, Cole.”
“I know what it is.”
“Then why do you look suspicious of it?”
I folded my arms. “Just making sure you're planning to use it again.”
She rinsed her mouth, then turned. “Thursday.”
“What?”
“That's when I'm coming back.”
I looked at the two toothbrushes sitting side by side. Then I reached for her. This time, when Kaycee told me she'd be back, I believed her.