Chapter Ten
“Someone is all smiles this morning,” Bo said, grinning at Tripp over his coffee cup.
Tripp ignored him and went about pouring coffee into two mugs, pausing to butter the toast that had just popped up in the toaster.
“It’s a good morning, is all.”
“Uh-huh. Wouldn’t have anything to do with the hot woman in your bed?”
Yes, it had everything to do with that. And Bo knew it. But he wasn’t about to give in to his buddy now.
“Just feel well rested,” he said. “Beautiful day.”
“Yeah, it is. Gracie was up at the ass crack of dawn knocking down Cash’s door demanding the horse ride on Sparkles he promised.”
Tripp glanced out the front window. Sure enough, Cash was working with Gracie in a slow circle on the new mare. Gracie got to name all the animals, and though she was white, the mare had been dubbed “Sparkles.”
“So…you thinking of getting serious with Charlotte?”
Tripp frowned. Bo looked serious, and he was never serious about anything.
“I don’t think ‘serious’ is a good word,” he said slowly, “but I am thinking about stuff.”
“Stuff? Oh, like things and stuff?”
“All the things and all the stuff.” Tripp wasn’t ready to dissect this relationship yet. He just wanted to get back to Charlotte and kiss her awake.
“You’re in deep already,” Bo said.
“And you sound like Cash.”
“Hey, I’m happy for you, and it’s about time you had a woman in your life. I just don’t know why you always pick the runners.”
“She’s not Shania,” Tripp said.
“I know she’s not. But she’s leaving. Has she told you otherwise?”
“No, and that’s fine. We have boundaries.”
“Uh-huh, and those boundaries are around your bedroom?”
“I know she’s leaving, but she always has a reason to stay,” Tripp said, thinking how great it would be if she moved into her grandmother’s house.
“See? That right there. You have a tiny seed of hope in your mind. You want more.”
“Why is that bad?”
“Because you picked the one woman you can’t have.”
Tripp took a deep breath. Bo was right, and he knew it—accepted it—on some level. But what he felt for Charlotte, how she made him feel…he was alive in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time. He could get addicted to that feeling.
Fuck me.
“What about Gracie getting attached?” Bo asked.
“They’re friends. That’s it.”
“What about mother material for Gracie? You think Charlotte is capable?”
Tripp frowned. “I’m not… That’s not what I’m thinking about.”
“Like hell it’s not. Everything you do is because of Gracie. And you want a mother for her. You’ve said so.”
One night, two years ago when he was drunk. That hardly counted as baring his soul. But deep down? Yes, he did want a mother for Gracie. And Bo’s question seeped through his brain like molasses.
Was Charlotte mother material?
“I don’t know.”
“You’re getting attached,” Bo said. “Look, all I’m saying is that fighting for something, someone, is noble. Especially if you’re willing to go the distance. But you’re setting yourself up with a woman who makes you feel—”
“Happy,” Tripp said.
Bo gave him a sad smile. “I hear you. But just think about just how deep you’re getting. Because you’re a fighter, brother, but you’re not a chaser.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means Charlotte is here, on your turf, on your terms. You’ll fight for her while she’s here, but you won’t chase her when she leaves.”
That was the stupidest thing Bo had ever said. And totally not true…right?
Tripp shook his head before it imploded from this conversation. “I’m fine. Can’t I just enjoy what I have while I have it?” For once, he just wanted a woman to keep looking at him like Charlotte did. Like he was a man. Like she cared. Not for any other reason than that she wanted him in return. Women looked at him all the time, but there was always an agenda. Not with Charlotte.
Because she’s not permanent…which means she can’t have an agenda.
Shit.
He closed his eyes for a moment and when he opened them, he saw the two coffee mugs on the counter staring back at him.
Two.
The sense of loneliness faded just enough to realize he had a mug for a woman.
His woman.
No, not his. But she was…something.
And she was waiting for him.
Getting in deep or not didn’t matter at the moment. He’d never put Gracie at risk, and he promised himself not to get too attached. One of the former was a promise he could always keep.
Bo shook his head. “Enjoy it while you can, sure. I’m just looking out for you.”
“Says the man who has a new woman every week.”
“Exactly, so you know that I know attachment when I see it, and I’m telling you, just be careful.”
Tripp grabbed the coffee mugs and headed down the hallway, assuring himself that he was only a little attached…
…
There was a muffled sound coming from somewhere beyond the dark sleep Charlotte was currently rolling in.
“Mrph…mrpphhhh….”
She frowned even with her eyes closed and couldn’t place the sound. Like sweaty palms gently smacking glass.
She creaked open an eye and saw a horse snout pressing against the big open bedroom window.
“Jesus Christ!” she screeched, and yanked the covers up to her chin.
Gracie was atop the horse and laughing, and Cash was trying to steer the horse back. Thankfully neither of them noticed Charlotte, so she grabbed the closest clothing she could find and tugged it on. Then quickly shut the curtain.
“Good morning,” Tripp said, walking in with two mugs. He stopped, and his jaw tightened. “Now that’s a sight.”
She glanced down at herself. Whoops. She was wearing his T-shirt. “Sorry, I just grabbed the first thing I could. I saw a horse and Gracie and…”
“Don’t be sorry,” he said, coming closer, his eyes still on her. “I’m starting to think you look better in my clothes than I do.”
“I doubt that. You look pretty good.”
He grinned and sat down next to her, handing her a mug of coffee.
“Thank you,” she said. “I didn’t realize this was a full-service kind of deal.”
She took a sip and kept her eyes on him. The man was fine. Worn jeans, bare feet, and no shirt. Yes please.
He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, and she shivered. “You sleep okay?”
She smiled. “You mean, when you actually let me sleep?”
“Hey, it was your mouth I found on me at three a.m. You expect me not to respond?”
“I was dreaming,” she defended.
“About kissing my chest?”
“Maybe…”
He smiled and kissed her on the lips. Was this what happiness felt like? A calm easiness with another person? She liked it. Liked that Tripp, and his home, and his bed, were warm. All the time. That felt like home.
But this wasn’t her home, and Tripp wasn’t her man. They were friends at best because of all his damn rules. Problem was, her resolve was starting to crumble. Maybe being here wasn’t so bad. Maybe she could want long term.
But could he?
He lifted his chin at the window she’d just closed the blinds on. “You ever ride?”
“A horse? No,” she said quickly.
“Gracie loves the horses. She’s out there almost every day.” He gave her a thoughtful once-over. “Would you ever ride? Or try riding?”
She shrugged. “Yeah, I’d try it. I just don’t know if it’s for me.”
She got the feeling that she may have answered the question wrong, but the truth was, she really didn’t know. The animal looked big, and she had no clue how to steer one or if it would buck her off.
“Not a lot of horses in the city, I take it,” Tripp said.
“No,” Charlotte agreed, noting the pause in his voice. She felt like a contestant in a spelling bee. Tripp’s questions felt like he wanted a specific answer.
“You like it there? Your job and city life and all?” Tripp asked.
She didn’t know what to say. Did she like it? No. But she’d worked hard and needed to support herself, which meant getting her career to take off. Even if she was considering Wyoming—and that was a big if—there was no clientele here. No big fish to land, and certainly no company to work for.
“There’s a lot of opportunity in Los Angeles,” Charlotte finally said.
“But you work for yourself?”
“Yeah, I build websites freelance, but I’m trying to get with a big company. I’ll have a steadier income and can build a larger clientele that way. And there’s no better place or promise for the line of work I’m in than California.”
Tripp took a sip of his coffee and glanced at the window, then back at Charlotte. “Well, I made a promise to get you back to your gram’s first thing,” he said, and rose from the bed. He put his coffee on the dresser and pulled out another T-shirt. This one was blue and fit him just as snug as the others. Perfect.
She got up and started dressing. She’d have to see if she had a jacket in the car to wear home, because now in the light of day, she felt ridiculous. She hadn’t thought about having to sneak in past Grammy, much less sneak past her in only a bra. When she went to pull Tripp’s shirt off, he stopped her and tugged the hem. “You keep this,” he said. “To remember me by when you leave.”
There was something in his eyes Charlotte couldn’t place, but she felt like she’d just gotten a D on a test she needed to ace.
Walking out the front door and into the morning sunshine, she was greeted with the happy wave and yell from Gracie.
“Charlie! Uncle Cash…I need down…” The girl was squirming on the horse, and Cash helped her down so she could run, arms wide, toward Charlotte. The image made her chest twist. She knelt down and opened her arms, and Gracie ran into them. The spot in Charlotte’s mind that was void of any interaction or know-how with kids didn’t seem to be mocking her at the moment. Gracie made it easy to feel comfortable.
“Wanna ride horses?” Gracie asked her.
“Oh, I can’t today, but maybe some other time.”
“Tomorrow?”
Charlotte smiled. “I wish I could. Grammy is doing better, but if I’m not there to help, she’ll try to take care of the garden and milk Wynonna by herself.”
“The weekend?” Gracie said.
“The weekend sounds good,” Charlotte agreed.
“Hang on, you can’t, Gracie. You have your troop pancake breakfast,” Tripp interjected.
“Oh,” Gracie said, and her shoulders slumped. Then popped her head up, her little curls bouncing when she smiled at Charlotte. “Wanna come to the pancake breakfast?”
Charlotte’s eyes went wide. She glanced at Tripp, but he gave no sign whether the invitation was okay. Charlotte just said she could make the weekend work, and truly, she wanted to be there for Gracie.
“Sure,” she said. “I can come.” All she had to do was apply for more jobs online and continue to help Grammy. The former was getting increasingly important, since she still had no income lined up for when she left.
“Woo-hoo!” Gracie shouted and jumped.
“Looks like that’s a yes,” Tripp said.
Charlotte smiled. So there was another date, this weekend.
“Daddy makes the best pancakes,” Gracie said. “All the moms love his pancakes the most.”
Charlotte couldn’t help it—she laughed. “I just bet they do.”
Tripp coughed. “All right, time to go,” he said. Gracie hugged her again and scampered back to Cash.
“You make the best pancakes, huh?” Charlotte asked Tripp when they were out of earshot near her car.
“The troop needs parent volunteers. They do this every summer at the town square.”
“Over by the train station?”
“That’s the one,” he said.
“The whole town will be there?”
“Most of it. The pancake breakfast is hosted by a bunch of local clubs. Gracie’s troop is manning a station. Well, the parents are.”
She smiled up at him. “That’s wonderful. You’re very involved.”
She thought of her own father and couldn’t even remember the color of his eyes, much less other involvement. And her mom never cared beyond Charlotte’s being alive, and even then, that was a stretch. She got a check every month from the government assistance department, and that was it. Extracurricular activities weren’t a thing.
Tripp was nothing like what she knew parents to be.
“Thank you for a nice night,” Charlotte said.
“You’re welcome.” He didn’t lean in, didn’t give any sign of a hug or any gesture good-bye. He just opened her car door, and she got in. She didn’t know how to feel, other than confused at the warring emotions. She didn’t expect him to lay a kiss on her in front of Gracie, but it was clear that Gracie liked her. That counted for something right?
Counted for what?
She no longer knew.
“Long night?” Grammy said, waggling her eyebrows at Charlotte.
The two of them were seated at the kitchen table, looking out over the expanse of land. Okay, maybe Grammy was looking out over the land. Charlotte had her laptop out, updating her résumé and looking for jobs.
“It was just a normal night,” she said.
“Mm-hmm.” Grammy smiled over her coffee cup. “I don’t know how you do it.”
“Do what?” Charlotte asked.
“Look happy and sad at the same time.”
Charlotte frowned. “I’m not sad.”
“You’re not happy, either.”
True. She’d been happy with Tripp and Gracie. Then sad about how the morning ended. Then happy about the idea of warmth and home and pancake breakfasts. Then sad about real life.
Princess Peanut Butter wedged herself between Charlotte’s knees and leaned into her, her big eyes managing to convey everything Charlotte herself was feeling. She shut her laptop, scratched the dog’s fuzzy head, and sighed.
There were so many conflicting emotions she didn’t know where to start, so she stayed with the truth. And that was that there was a clock on her visit here. She would enjoy what she could, while she could.
“Well, when you decide to be happy all the time, I’ll be here to celebrate with you,” Grammy said.
“It’s not that simple,” Charlotte mumbled.
“If you say so,” Grammy said, and for once, she wished her grandmother weren’t a stubborn woman who happened to be right more often than wrong, because Charlotte’s whole life was in the balance and she really needed her Grammy to be wrong this time…or right.