No more crazy, I decide, mentally boxing up all of this emotional crap until I can deal with it later. Because I have a job to do. I can’t very well take care of these children if I’m an emotional wreck, and they deserve my best. But more than any job or expectation, I love Mila and Cody, and I always want to be in the moment with them instead of staring off into space like a lunatic.
I clear my throat and try to sniffle quietly.
Their jubilant laughter makes me break out into a watery smile. They’re such a bright spot, always cheerful and loving and sweet. Truly, no one deserves happiness more than my tiny tikes.
I turn around and… Oh, holy shit.
Sputtering, I’m caught with my mouth hanging open at the sight before me—Cody’s head coated in butter, his mischievous eyes peeking up at me through the pale yellow slime.
The condiment tub, gaping and empty, sits on the floor. Next to it, Cody-sized hand prints decorate the hardwood floor like an art exhibit gone wrong.
What just happened?
He giggles. “Rawr! Scawwwwwwyyyyy!” Waving his hands, he grins up at me.
Mila shields her smile with her hand like she’s embarrassed. “He’s a ghost. For Halloween.”
Internally, I’m yelling at myself for not paying better attention.
Because like everything else, this is my fault too.
Ethan
With a haughty flick of her wrist, Mallory Mathers shoves a lock of red hair over her shoulder. All the better to glare at me.
I glare back. “You need to lean back more. If you’re sitting up that high in the saddle, your ass is gonna go flying off that new filly of yours faster than you can blink.”
“Maybe we should call it a day.”
“It’s your dollar. You wanna quit twenty minutes early, be my guest.” I’m in a foul mood, and Mallory’s piss-poor attitude is gnawing on my last nerve. All I want to do is head into the house, hug my kids and kiss my girlfriend. Make sure they’re okay after last night. But no. I’m sweating my balls off while I deal with this spoiled princess.
Mallory’s eyes narrow like she’s mentally murdering me, and I force a smile. No sense in actually being murdered. “Cool off your horse. You know the routine. And put your saddle in the right place this time.”
Last week, she left it in the stall instead of in the tack room. Almost had a hemorrhage when I saw the damn thing. She’s off her rocker if she thinks I’m gonna clean up after her again.
It’s barely ten a.m., but the heat is unforgiving. Sweat barrels down me like I just hopped out of the shower. As soon as my client is gone, I can take a break. I’m gonna have to or I might pass out.
I glance at the clock on the back wall. Where the hell is Logan? He was supposed to be here hours ago.
Trudging toward the giant sink in the grooming stable, I swivel on the cold water and wash my face. The water is tepid at best, but I’ll take anything right now.
I’m wiping the salt out of my eyes when her voice makes me turn.
“I won’t be in next week since I’m headed to the Bahamas for a few days, but I’ll be back for the party.”
“What party?” I tilt my head. Surely, she can’t mean…
“Your son’s birthday.” She looks at me like I’m an idiot. “Allison called me about it yesterday. You really should give people more notice.”
Let me get this straight. My ex-wife invited my client to Cody’s birthday party? Before she even talked to me? What the fresh hell?
As soon as Mallory’s gone, I stomp toward the house, needing to sit down for this conversation I plan to have with Allison. She is out of her goddamn mind.
I’m kicking off my filthy boots and hopping on one foot when I catch a glimpse in the kitchen where all hell has broken loose.
Cody is covered in… butter? And Mila is sliding and twirling on the mess like a nutty ballerina. They’re both giggling uncontrollably.
Where’s Tori?
Stepping closer, I finally let out a sigh of relief when I spot her bent over—face down, ass up—reaching for something that must’ve rolled under the stove.
The corner of my mouth lifts. That is a beautiful ass.
A chuckle escapes me at the insanity in this kitchen. The kids spot me and run full-out, laughing and sliding toward me.
“Whoa, there.” Jesus, I sound like I’m talking to one of my horses.
They ignore me and go crashing into my legs. We end up in a buttery pile on the floor.
Holy crap, that hurt.
“I can explain!” Tori shouts as she shuffles toward us.
“Watch out.” From this angle, it’s easy to see the oil slick on the floor that my kids dragged along the wood.
It happens in slow motion, Tori wiping out. Arms windmilling. Legs flying out from under her. The yelp she cries before she hits the ground.
I feel helpless under a pile of sticky children. Shit.
“Babe, you okay?” I grunt as I slowly peel Mila and Cody off me.
Tori moans, slowly reaching around to rub her elbow, then her ass. Speaking of ass, mine hurts like the dickens. That floor is harder than it looks.
I’m limping toward her when the front door closes and my brother’s voice rings out. “Holy shit. What happened here?”
But it’s the gasp that follows that has me looking up. “Good lord, boy. I didn’t raise y’all in a barn.” My mother chuckles at her joke.
“GRANDMA!” my kids shout and scramble toward her, but I snag the backs of their t-shirts, stopping them in their buttery tracks.
“Nope. Bath time first. Then you two miscreants can hug your grandma.”
My mother looks tickled to find her brood in such a disarray. “Need some help?”
I blow out a breath and send up a prayer of thanks. “You have no idea.”
Tori
It comes at the perfect time.
I stare at the text message, wondering if I’ve somehow willed it into existence.
Kat: Can you help me this week? Please? I’m desperate. I’m behind on a ton of orders, but I’m too big and too tired to do this on my own. I’ll owe you!
When I don’t respond because I’m too busy re-reading the message, another one pops up.
Kat: Want my truck? You can have it.
She must really need my help.
Kat: Stay with me. Maybe a week or two? I’ll pay you! More than the sisterly wage of love and tacos.
I chuckle. She knows I’d do anything for her for free.
A wave of relief settles over me. At least this way I can leave on my own terms instead of having Ethan let me go.
But when I tell him my plan, he looks confused.
He’s paying bills in his office, and I’m sitting in front of him. It’s a very boss-employee moment, which is weird since we haven’t had this kind of vibe since he peeled off my panties in the back of his truck.
His eyebrows pull together. “What are you talking about? Don’t you wanna stay?” A hurt expression flashes on his face, but then it’s gone. Did I imagine it?
I nod. “Of course I want to stay, but where do you suggest I bunk? With your mom?”
We were all surprised Beverly returned early, but she was homesick. She’s staying here for now because Logan needs “a few days to clean his house,” which probably means he needs to clear out ten million pizza boxes and trash cans full of condoms. Gross.