Chapter Five #2
Her downcast gaze did not give him a warm, fuzzy feeling. “It seemed pretty great to me. I’ve never seen Elizabeth Swann on a leash before.”
Delilah shrugged as she dumped the last bell pepper into the large wooden bowl already full of shredded lettuce, chopped carrots, and radishes.
“One down, three to go. The others won’t take to it as easily, I’m afraid.
But we’ll get there. Eventually. It just might take a little longer than I was hoping. ”
He nodded, clinging to the upbeat note in her voice. She would train the dogs, he had no doubt. She’d already gotten further in one day than he’d have considered possible after two weeks. “I’m not worried about how fast you do it, but how well. I need to take my focus off the dogs.”
She cocked her head, all of her attention on him instead of her salad, which gave him an unexpected thrill deep down inside.
If only circumstances were different…but they weren’t, and he had no right to be thinking how nice it would be if he had the liberty to sidle a lot closer to Delilah.
Feather a thumb across her cheek and follow that with his lips to see if she tasted like she smelled, all full of cinnamon goodness.
Oh, man, he was in so much trouble.
He ducked his head, focusing on his own tasks, namely dumping a box of spaghetti noodles into the pot of boiling water on the stove.
“I’m curious,” she said. “Why you don’t just get rid of the dogs, if they’re such a problem?”
Million-dollar question.
“They belonged to my grandpa,” he told her brusquely as he bustled by her to rinse out the colander for reuse with the spaghetti noodles when they finished cooking.
Under no circumstances did he want to have even the slightest temptation to accidentally on purpose brush up against her in these close quarters, though it would be easily explainable.
That wasn’t how he operated. If he intended to date a woman, he wanted her to know about his interest up front, no shenanigans.
Unfortunately, that kind of simplicity was blocked to him, at least until he got a whole lot further with the ranch.
“You and your grandpa were close?”
He nodded and shrugged. “I spent my summers here as a kid.”
That didn’t begin to encompass how he’d always thought of his grandpa as a hero. He’d fought in Korea and Vietnam, and Zero had never thought he’d do anything else but follow in his grandpa’s footsteps into the Army. Which he’d done.
And now he’d make his grandfather’s unrealized dream happen by turning the Flying Pig into a ranch that could sustain itself. As a tribute, a thank-you. More importantly, a way to care for his grandpa’s surviving family.
“You know Tag’s idea to lock the dogs in the barn isn’t a bad one,” she informed him as if he’d never thought of that. “That’s what I did while I was working with Elizabeth Swann. They didn’t give me too much trouble.”
“I could,” he countered. “But that doesn’t get them trained to help out around the ranch. Tag works hard and is loyal to a fault, but he forgets he can’t do everything around here. I need to use the resources I have.”
She laughed self-consciously. “I’m not trying to talk myself out of a job or anything. I’m happy to have a place to live and all. I just thought it was interesting that you keep the dogs.”
A shadow passed over her face, and he had the strongest urge to dig into what she was thinking. But he didn’t, despite the niggle in his gut that never fully went away.
Lately, he’d been chalking it up to the way her eyes sparkled in certain lights. Which he definitely shouldn’t be studying so hard, but felt powerless to stop.
There was definitely an undercurrent here, though.
One he wished he could explore. Maybe one day.
He didn’t hold out a lot of hope he’d ever feel truly free to do something selfish for once, like indulge in a woman.
Sheridan slept by herself, thanks to him, and the guilt over that tampered everything else.
“You’re here to train the dogs,” he told her brusquely, forcing himself to come across as gruff and unapproachable— making her hate him still seemed like the best plan, though it was starting to pain him how hard it was to remember why.
“If I didn’t need you to do that, you definitely wouldn’t be here. ”
“Yep, I am the dog trainer,” she shot back immediately, as if trying extra hard to solidify herself as such.
She didn’t need to worry. He wouldn’t fire her over what had happened with Hunter. The progress he’d seen earlier today had convinced him that he’d made a good choice in Delilah. As long as she did her job. And he managed to scare up enough will to stop thinking about her in inappropriate ways.
In a shocking twist to the evening, Sheridan wandered into the kitchen, accompanied by Hunter. “Everything smells so good.”
“Hey,” he said, barely covering up his surprise to see her with her hair brushed and everything. “We’re just about to put it all on the table.”
“Let me just set it really quick,” Delilah offered with a smile and began putting out plates.
Without being asked, Hunter pulled silverware out of the drawer near the refrigerator and followed Delilah around the table like she’d gained a human devotee along with Elizabeth Swann earlier today.
The boy actually had a small smile on his face as Delilah placed paper napkins by each plate and then turned them to make diamonds so the silverware would fit.
“He likes her,” Sheridan murmured as she drew up at Zero’s shoulder. “You didn’t tell me that part.”
“You didn’t ask.”
Nor had he really taken the time to note how easy Hunter was in Delilah’s company. Earlier, he’d been too focused on returning the kid to his mom after an eternity of searching, heart in his throat over the possibility of stumbling over a bad scene.
Sheridan’s gaze shifted to Zero’s face and lingered, her lips curving. “You like her, too.”
“What? No, I don’t.” What was his expression doing that gave her a ridiculous impression like that?
He forced his features to relax, presenting her with his best stoneface.
“I mean, yes, I do. To train dogs. She locked the Captains and Will Turner in barn stalls while she worked with Elizabeth Swann. What’s not to like? ”
He busied himself with putting together the spaghetti noodles and sauce into a large bowl and sticking tongs into the middle. How had his life turned into an exercise in keeping busy so he didn’t have to think about things better left unexamined?
Tag waltzed through the door at the eleventh hour, at the exact moment Delilah set the wooden bowl full of salad on the table.
“Why are we eating so late?” he asked, squinting at his phone. “It’s nearly seven. I thought I’d be heating up leftovers.”
“Surprise,” Delilah told him with a warm smile. “We set you a place. Hunter insisted on it.”
Why did the sight of her smiling at his oldest friend set his teeth on edge? She could flirt with Tag twenty-four/ seven for all he cared.
“Thanks, Buddy.” Tag ruffled the kid’s hair and got a grimace for his trouble.
Everyone slid into chairs, and for the first time in as long as Zero could remember, he could see the faces of his whole family at once as they ate dinner together. Well, and Delilah, too.
“Sheridan, I love the decor in my bedroom,” Delilah told his sister enthusiastically. “Do you know the history of the four-poster bed? The headboard carvings are so unique.”
And they were off to the races, chatting to each other about antiques, of all things, which Sheridan loved talking about.
How had Delilah known that would be the one subject guaranteed to interest his sister?
It was like the dog trainer had folded herself into the fabric of his life seamlessly. How?
He watched Delilah covertly until Tag elbowed him. “What?”
“I said, are we still on for tomorrow? You wanted to check out the steers MacGregor Farms is selling,” Tag reminded him.
“Yeah.”
That’s what he needed to be fixated on. Livestock.
Now that Delilah had started making some excellent progress, he could finally make strides on his own endless list of stuff.
Bonus—throwing himself headlong into cows would be a stellar distraction worthy of forcing his mind off the curve of his employee’s cheek.
Everything was coming together. For once.