“Thank you,” I answer. “I appreciate it. And I’ll make sure the person we assign to come out here and oversee the day-to-day operations understands the level of care expected of them.”
Surprise slams onto Wes’s face like a tsunami on a deserted beach. “You’re not going to be the project manager?”
“Um, no. We’ll send someone with a lot of experience who will carry out all my plans, and I already have someone specific in mind,” I assure Wes, and then Beau. I don’t actually have anybody in mind, but whoever takes over will be fine. My dad doesn’t hire half-wits.
“I want you, Dakota.” Wes clears his throat and looks at his dad. Beau’s eyebrows are raised in Wes’s direction. “We, I mean,” Wes amends. “We want you.”
Beau doesn’t say anything, but he knows just like the rest of us that once this deal goes through, the Haydens have no say-so in how anything goes with the property. This request is based purely on something else. Something that altogether confuses me.
“Dakota,” my dad says my name, a pleading edge hidden beneath his tone. I hear what he’s not saying. Nobody has signed on the dotted line, so don’t do anything to fuck this up in the final hour. “What do you think about staying out here to manage the project?”
First I feel panic, but I rein it in by reminding myself that as soon as the sale goes through the property will be owned by my father, and there will essentially be no reason for me to have contact with Wes.
When I don’t respond right away, my dad says, “Dakota?”
“I’ll consider it,” I say quickly, looking at my watch and fighting back the panic. “Gentlemen, we have a flight to catch. And a long drive to the airport. I’ll be in touch, but rest assured Sierra Grande will be in great hands no matter who stays here full-time, because I will make certain of that.”
I stand, and so does everyone else. My dad shakes Beau’s hand across the coffee table, then Wes’s. “Usually my firm celebrates by taking the seller out to dinner,” my dad tells them. “Once the deal goes through, we’ll be back out here to hire a general contractor. Can I take you out to dinner then?”
Both Beau and Wes nod their agreement, then Beau and my dad start for the front door. I replace the notebook in my tote bag and wind my arm through the straps. As I turn to step around the side of the couch, there’s a tug on my elbow.
“You’re leaving?” Wes asks under his breath, something that sounds a lot like disappointment running through his voice. “Just like that?”
“Yes. The choice should be one you’re familiar with.” I give him a hard look. He’s made it clear he doesn’t see me as a one-night stand, but that doesn’t completely erase how it felt to wake up alone.
He ignores the remark. “Am I going to see you again?” His voice is low and urgent, and it reaches into that part of me I buried after Barrett.
“Dinner, remember? But, seriously, you let the last five years pass without seeing me, I’m sure you could manage.”
It’s as if my last two sentences have rolled right off him. He completely ignores my indignation and instead looks at me with eyes loaded with feelings he seems unable to express.
My boiling blood decreases in temperature, and I find myself softening. “I’m considering coming out here full-time, but I’m not sure yet.” I don’t want to let my dad down, and I really care about what we’re going to create in Sierra Grande. I think I’d miss being here to see the small moments as the project progresses, even when I’m keeping tabs on it from afar.
“What’s there to think about?” Wes asks. Understanding dawns on his face. “You have a boyfriend, don’t you?”
The air changes, becomes thick and charged with electricity, and I think if I licked the air I could taste his jealousy.
“Retract your claws, tiger.” I stare into those dark eyes, and the buzzing feeling in the air slips over my skin, covering me until I’m submerged in its current. Like the moment I met him, my decision feels inevitable. “I’ll take the role.”
“Thank you,” Wes murmurs, his face relieved. His hand leaves my elbow and comes to rest on my hip. The pad of his thumb moves up and down, skimming across the fabric of my top.
“Dakota?” my dad calls from the open front door. “We better get going if we want to make our flight.”
I glance up into Wes’s eyes, then turn to face the two men at the door. My movement forces Wes’s thumb to fall away from me, and immediately I miss his touch. “I’ve decided to stay here,” I say to Beau. “I’d like to make sure the building comes to life the way I’ve told you it will. Once the deal is complete, I’ll be back.”
Beau looks pleased. “My lawyer will draft the papers and we’ll make it a done deal.” He switches his gaze to me. “Dakota, every May our family hosts a cookout for the cowboys, and you’re certainly welcome to join us since you’ll be in town. We can get you the specifics at our dinner.”
I shoot Wes a quick glance, tell Beau I’d love to attend, and walk out the door.
Then my dad and I drive to Phoenix, return our rental car, and travel home to Colorado Springs.
We figured out the logistics on the drive from the airport to my sister’s house. This entire next week I will be at home, preparing to live in Sierra Grande for the foreseeable future. As nerve-wracking as it all is, I’m excited. I love living with Abby, but I need my own space. I need to stand on my own two feet, and she doesn’t need the added stress of taking care of her wayward little sister anymore.
I’m digging through my purse for house keys when I see the late notices I’d stuffed in there before we left a few days ago. It’s a sad fact of life that most problems follow you no matter where you go.
Dad drops me off and I walk into the house, finding Abby in the kitchen, also known as her happy place.
“Hi.” She has her back to me and she’s sliding a tray of brownies out of the oven. “For me?” I ask over her shoulder. “You shouldn’t have.”
She blocks me with her side and shakes her head. “They need to cool. Welcome back, by the way.” She slides the pan onto the top of the stove. “I got a call for you yesterday,” she says, turning around and laying her big sister look on me. “A bill collector.”
Which one? I keep the question to myself. She doesn’t know how I spend my money. I’m sure she’s confused about what I’m doing with what I earn. Certainly not using it to pay her rent.
“I’ll take care of it,” I answer in what I hope is a nonchalant way. “Probably something of Barrett’s that lists me as a contact.”
The answer works. She drops it and asks, “How was Sierra Grande?”
I take a seat at the kitchen island and fold my feet underneath me. “Good.” I picture Wes’s face. “And weird. By the way, Dad says he wants to come over to visit tomorrow.”
Abby nods and sticks a finger in the glass bowl with the brownie batter stuck to the sides. “Weird how?” She puts her finger in her mouth and passes the bowl to me.
I do the same as her and lick my finger clean. “Is that healthy?” I ask, pointing at the mostly-empty bowl.