Chapter 5 #2
I breathe a sigh of relief when I slip into the kitchen unnoticed. Keeping to the far side of the room, I’m about to escape through the little hall that leads to the mudroom when I draw up short at the sound of my name.
“Wheeler! I thought I saw your car earlier today. Welcome back to the ranch.” Duke is standing at the counter with a red onion in one hand and an enormous chef’s knife in the other.
He smiles, his mouth and eyes creasing in the most handsome way imaginable, and I feel weak in the knees again. “I hope you’re staying for lunch.”
I blush, hard. All the boys plus Patsy are looking at me now. I got dressed in real clothes this morning—jeans, a cute top that’s cropped enough to show a sliver of stomach, and my favorite pair of short Bellamy Brooks boots—but I still feel unprepared for the onslaught of attention.
Really, Duke’s attention. Damn does he look good in his cowboy getup. Dusty jeans that fit just right. A weathered chambray button-up, the sleeves rolled up to reveal deeply tan, slightly sweaty forearms. A bandana and boots and a sun-bleached Stetson that, wow, does something to me.
“Um,” I manage. “I was—work—I have so much to do. It’s month end, so…”
Patsy wrinkles her forehead. “You sure, honey? My pimento cheese and bacon burgers aren’t to be missed. They’re best fresh out of the frying pan.”
“She’s right.” Duke tilts his head toward the bowl of pimento cheese Patsy’s just pulled from the fridge. “Besides, you can’t work if you’re hungry.”
“Please stay, Wheeler.” Ryder plucks a bottle of Texas Pete from a cabinet. “If only so I have someone to talk to besides these assholes.”
“Hey,” Cash barks. “You’d best watch that mouth. Ella’s gonna be here any minute—”
“I’m already here, Uncle Cashy!”
I glance over my shoulder to see a little girl with big blue eyes and brown hair burst into the kitchen. Mollie is right behind her, smiles on both their faces.
“Shit.” Ryder slaps a hand over his mouth. “I mean, shoot. Hope she didn’t hear that.”
“Oh, I’m sure she did.” Sawyer scoops his daughter into his arms and presses a noisy kiss to her cheek.
“Hey, Wheeler!” Mollie pulls me in for a hug. “Drive go okay?”
“It was easy.”
“How was school, Elly Belly Boo?” Sawyer asks.
“Ew, Daddy, your scruffies are very scruffy today.” Ella runs a hand over his face. “But I still love you.”
“Thank goodness. Did you eat your lunch?”
“No. I don’t like your sandwiches very much.”
Everyone laughs at that. I forgot how cute kids can be. Haines was born when I was five and a half, and I loved having an adorable younger brother to tote around and play with when I was little. My parents joke that he was my first—and favorite—baby doll.
“Well, lucky for you, I made an extra cheeseburger.” Patsy says. “And maybe some extra dessert too.”
Ella gasps. “Is it cake?”
“Even better. It’s chocolate peanut butter pie.”
“Oh!” The little girl screams with delight, and I feel that tug in my chest again. “Oh my goodness! That’s my favorite! Thank you, Miss Patsy!” She leans over, arms outstretched to Patsy.
Patsy lifts Ella out of Sawyer’s arms and settles her on her hip, bopping her on the nose. “You’re so welcome.”
When was the last time I let myself be delighted like that? The last time I was so happy I couldn’t help but holler? I honestly can’t remember.
“Lord, and I been tryin’ to eat healthy.” Ryder pats his stomach. “So much for that.”
Patsy tsks. “Diets are not allowed in my kitchen. Neither are picky eaters.”
“Well, I’m screwed, then,” Ryder replies.
“Now y’all go sit while I put these burgers together.”
I turn my head, and my stomach takes a tumble when I lock eyes with Duke. He was looking at me.
Is looking at me. He put the knife down, but he’s still holding the onion. Am I the one who keeps looking for him? Or is he the one always staring at me?
I look away and head for the island. No one sits down, of course, opting instead to help Patsy finish preparing lunch.
Duke chops his onion. Mollie and Cash slather the burgers with healthy spoonfuls of pimento cheese.
Sawyer and I arrange a platter of burger toppings: crisp leaves of iceberg lettuce, slices of juicy heirloom tomatoes, pickles, bacon, hot pepper jam.
Turns out food prep is fun when you’re doing it with a bunch of cowboys. The camaraderie, the sense of community, of being in this together—it’s special, and it makes me long to experience it more often.
Duke sidles up beside me to dump a handful of sliced red onion onto the platter. I smile when I see his watery eyes.
“In our feelings this morning?” I ask.
Patsy serves breakfast at four thirty a.m., which means lunch is on the early side too. We’re usually seated at the table by eleven, if not earlier.
“Sorry.” He dabs his eye with the back of his wrist. “Food this good just gets me emotional, ya know?”
“No need to apologize. If there’s any food that would make me shed a tear, it’s Patsy’s.”
Patsy grins as she sets a sheet pan of burger buns, warmed on the griddle, beside the toppings. “Y’all sure do know how to make a gal feel special. Now eat! Duke, I made enough so that everyone gets two burgers. Don’t take a third unless everyone’s done, you hear?”
I stare at him. “You can eat three burgers? Just like that?”
“Just like that.” Snapping his fingers, he grins. “I meant what I said—you can’t work when you’re hungry. And cowboying is hungry work. Come to think of it, I’m hungry most of the time.”
When I watch him take off his hat before sitting down, his bicep bulging against his shirt as he reaches up to run his fingers through his thick, slightly matted hair, I have a deep, deep understanding of that hunger.
Everyone eats. The flow of conversation is steady, sometimes raucous. Ella begs for the biggest slice of pie, but Patsy gives it to me instead.
“For our honored guest,” she says with a wink. “It’s always nice having you back, Wheeler.”
“It’s always nice to be back,” I say, chest squeezing.
I mean that. It’s like they actually enjoy having me around.
Like they enjoy my company.
This is how family is supposed to feel. With my own family—my life—melting down around me, I’d forgotten that fact.
Mollie’s phone beeps, making her look up. Immediately, her eyes go wide.
“What is it?” I ask.
She picks up her phone and slides her thumb across the screen. “An email from Bailey.”
My stomach drops. Bailey Pappas is our whiz of a publicist. She’s helped launch some major brands in the high-end fashion space, and we’re hoping she can do the same for Bellamy Brooks.
Bailey has been knocking on some pretty amazing doors on our behalf—buyers for department stores, fashion magazines, major influencers, boutiques with huge followings that host trunk shows—and we’ve slowly but surely gotten traction, especially on social media.
“It’s about Elle.” Mollie scrolls. Then she gasps, her hand going to her mouth. “Oh my God, we’re going to be in the feature.” Her eyes flick to meet mine as they fill with tears. “Wheeler, our boots are going to be in Elle!”
I blink. Blink again. I feel a smile pull at the corners of my lips. My heart pinballs around inside my rib cage.
“Seriously?” I ask.
She throws up her arms. “Seriously. The purple pair of shorties. Apparently violet is the hue of the season.”
Holy shit, this is a big deal.
This is happening. Right now.
My dreams are literally coming true right before my eyes. This feature will take us to the next level. Stores and influencers will start knocking on our door, which means we’ll be selling a lot more Bellamy Brooks boots.
With that kind of money, I can finally pay back my parents. Pay myself a decent salary. Hell, maybe I can even buy out my car lease.
I want to channel Ella’s unbridled delight. Jump up and scream and just—yeah, celebrate this huge fucking moment. Mollie and I sure as hell deserve it.
And I do celebrate. Kind of. I reach across the table and grab Mollie’s hands, waiting for the tears to come. I manage to smile.
Meanwhile, everyone around us erupts in hoots and hollers. Cash pulls Mollie in for a teary hug. Sawyer stomps his feet, and Ella claps her hands. Wyatt and Sally—when did she arrive?—are jumping up and down. Patsy is crying.
And Duke—
Duke is looking at me, a funny gleam in his eye like he knows I’m missing a step here. Like the news isn’t hitting as hard as it should.
Really, why can’t I be fucking happy for myself for once?
Averting my gaze, I shove that depressing thought aside and let Mollie skip around the table to wrap me in a tight hug.
“We also booked a trunk show at Aspen Leather Company in March,” she says in my ear. “I was waiting until you got here to tell you.”
My heart does a backflip of genuine delight. Okay, so I’m not totally numb. Just mostly. “Oh my God!”
“I know.”
“Oh my God, Mollie!”
“I know!”
Aspen Leather Company is the wildly famous Western wear store that’s been a city staple for over fifty years.
They sell high-end boots, handmade belts and belt buckles, and an assortment of gorgeous leather jackets, pants, and handbags.
Its regulars are well-heeled locals and tourists alike, and over the holidays, it becomes a celebrity mob scene.
They also have two million Instagram followers. There’s no doubt in my mind that we’ll sell out of whatever stock we bring with us, but the real value of the trunk show will be the exposure we’ll get. The hope being, of course, that we make Aspen Leather Company’s regulars our regulars.
Mollie pulls back, holding my shoulders. “Road trip when I get back from my honeymoon? You and me?”
Seeing her tears up close finally has me tearing up. “Hell—I mean heck yes. Wouldn’t miss it for the world!”