Carter couldn’t keep the smile from his face as he strode into the Blossom Café later that week. Reagan and he had flown back from California, and then she had to leave again for three days. She was coming home soon. To him. Since Reagan lived with her twin sister, Riley, she was going to come to his small house on the back of Ashton Farm. They’d have privacy there to do all the things he’d been thinking about for the past three days.

“What are you grinning about?” his friend Wyatt Davies asked as he took a seat at the small table with Carter.

Damn Reagan for making him keep their relationship a secret. He wanted to tell Wyatt who it was who had him smiling like a fool. He was happy. Ridiculously so and he wanted to share why. Instead, he ordered a large salad, a hot brown, and two servings of bread pudding smothered in a bourbon caramel sauce—to go.

“I’m excited about a new horse. You’ll have to come by and check him out.” Wyatt was a large-animal veterinarian. His mother, Katelyn, was the town’s small-animal vet.

“I will. I’ll be out at Ashford Farm next week to check on your pregnant mares. I look forward to seeing him them.”

Carter looked over at Wyatt. His great-grandmother, Ruth Wyatt, had passed away recently. She’d left him Wyatt Farm so he was now pulling double duty in the job department. “How are you doing? Do you need any help with the farm?”

Wyatt let out a long breath. He was built like his father, Marshall, a former Special Forces soldier. Big shoulders, strong jaw, and yet he had his mother’s good looks. Katelyn had been a model in her younger days and Wyatt’s sister, Sydney, was also a model. Wyatt had also inherited his great-grandfather Beauford’s old Southern gentleman’s ways. It was one of the reasons he and Wyatt got along so well. They both had a quiet confidence about them, and they were both overlooked for that same reason. Polite manners and a lack of military training put you in the background in Keeneston. It didn’t mean people didn’t treat them well. It just meant when something went wrong, they turned to Ryan Parker, the head of the Lexington FBI, or his brother, Jackson, who was part of the FBI Hostage Rescue division. And then they could call on any number of the Rahmi security force overseeing the royal family at Desert Sun Farm. Of course, to everyone in Keeneston they were just Dani and Mo and their kids, Zain, Gabe, and Ariana. But they still needed the increased security from outsiders.

Wyatt ran an agitated hand over his short, dark-blond hair in frustration. “Yeah, I could use some help. I’ve been trying to do this all myself, and I think I’ve reached the limits of my knowledge. I went to veterinary school and I know animals pretty well. But I didn’t go to business school like you.”

Poppy stopped at the table with a bag of food and a smile. “Hiya, you two. Here’s your dinner, Carter. What can I get you, Wyatt?”

Wyatt looked down at his phone and sighed. “Nothing apparently. I have an emergency. I’ll call you about getting together soon,” Wyatt said as he stood up.

“Anytime,” Carter told his friend before Wyatt hurried from the café.

“I’ll make him up something and have Sydney take it to him,” Poppy said with a shake of her head. “That man needs to eat. Every time he comes in here, he seems to get called away before he can eat. I can’t tell you how many meals he’s paid for and when I come to the table to deliver it, he’s gone.”

Carter nodded in understanding. Wyatt looked worn out to the point of near exhaustion. “He needs someone to help him at the farm.”

“He needs a wife,” Poppy said as if it were obvious. At the term wife, an image of Reagan flashed into his mind and Carter smiled again.

“Thanks for dinner,” he called out as he hurried to his truck. Reagan was supposed to be at his house in less than an hour. They had talked on the phone every day she was gone, and he knew she had told everyone she would not be arriving home until tomorrow. That gave the two of them the whole night together.

Carter opened the door to the café and ran smack into Reagan’s father, Cy Davies.

“Hey, Carter. Where are you running off to in such a hurry?”

Somehow to have sex with your daughter didn’t seem like the right answer. Carter would rather tell Cy he was dating Reagan. But if keeping quiet were the only way to keep Reagan in his life, he’d do it. “Heading home to eat dinner and watch the Thoroughbreds’ preseason game. How are you doing?”

“Good. Just meeting my brothers for dinner. Here’s Marshall now.” Carter turned to see Wyatt’s father, Marshall, the sheriff of Keeneston, walking across the street from the sheriff’s office tucked inside the courthouse. “Oh, he looks pissed,” Cy chuckled. “That’s the look you get when your daughter is married,” Cy called out as Marshall shot him the finger.

“This look has nothing to do with Deacon and Sydney, who are very happy, by the way. Someday your daughters will get married, and I’ll tease the shit out of you over it,” Marshall said as he joined them on the sidewalk outside the café.

Cy snorted in disbelief. “My girls are still babies. They’re not getting married. No way would I let a man into their lives like that.”

Marshall rolled his eyes before looking at Carter. “How you doing, Carter?”

“Good. I talked to Wyatt. I’m going to help him some with the farm,” Carter said, eagerly changing the subject.

Marshall nodded his head as some of the tight lines around his face relaxed. “Good. We should have thought about teaching him how to run a farm, but we thought Ruth was going to leave the farm to Katelyn, giving us time to figure it out before Wyatt took it over. You’re a good man, Carter, and a good friend.”

Marshall thumped Carter on the shoulder and Carter looked to see Cy nodding in agreement. Crap. Now he felt horrible. Reagan’s father liked him, well, he did now at any rate.

“I’m going to get home and eat. I’ll see you guys later.” Cy and Marshall gave him a little wave and Carter drove home, wondering what Cy’s reaction really would be if he found out Carter considered Reagan something more than a friend.