Page 28 of The Cowboy Who Stayed

I’ve always known I like a woman with a backbone. But on Vivica, I love it. I can’t get enough of it and view it as an honor she’s let me in at all. Even if it’s only casual.

It keeps me coming back for more. Makes me determined to prove myself to her.

…it also turns me into the kind of man who sniffs a woman’s pillow when she leaves the room. I’m no bloodhound, but I do pick up traces of jasmine.

I take a whiff, and it’s like a hit of a drug. Dopamine rushes me.

If Joaquin or any of the guys at the ranch ever found out I’m so far gone over the new veterinarian that I’m getting hard just from smelling her linen, I’d never hear the end of it.

Rhett Dawson, the former TACP who jumped out of planes into active combat zones, undone by a woman’s pillowcase.

They’d have a field day.

But that’s where I’m at.

Thinking about her when she’s not around. Replaying conversations in my head while I’m hauling feed or mending fences. Wondering what she’d think of the song playing through my earbuds as I work.

Our arrangement has us seeing each other almost every night, and I’ve made it my personal mission to show up with food she isn’t expecting. Dinner to feed her like she deserves (and she deserves much more than that).

She fusses about it every single time. Tells me I don’t need to keep feeding her. That the arrangement doesn’t include meal service.

I’m doing too much.

Every single time she says it with a mouth full of whatever I’ve brought, so I don’t take the complaints too seriously.

I’m going to court Vivica Murphy yet, and she won’t even realize it ’til it’s too late.

At the ranch, the guys slowly start noticing something’s up. Though they don’t know the extent, Ricky pointed out the other day that I’ve been “whistling like a damn Disney character” during morning chores. It earned a chorus of laughs and a raised brow from Joaquin.

Even Jeb’s asked if I’ve found myself a girl in town. I told him the only girl in my life is Buttercup, which got another laugh but didn’t kill the speculation.

I don’t give a damn what they think. Let them wonder. Let them crack jokes about my good mood and make guesses about who’s putting the spring in my step (and secretly causing the worst flare ups in my spine in months).

None of them are going to figure it out because Vivica and I are airtight at work.

If anything, it’s my stiff gait and occasional wince that do come across as red flags. But it’s still more than worth it. A price I’m willing to pay to please Vivica.

I usually deal with it once I’m home, back to my own company. Then I’m popping a pain pill and urging the twitchy spasms to pass.

I’d suffer a thousand bad nights just to spend a thousand more with her. Vivica Murphy is more than worth the trouble.

“You brought food again,” Vivica says, eyeing the brown bags I’ve set on her kitchen counter.

“It’s BBQ. You mentioned you haven’t tried Smokey’s in town, so figured I’d bring it to you,” I answer. I pull out the containers and start popping lids. “Brisket. Coleslaw. Cornbread. Mac and cheese. Ribs… classic and bourbon style. Figured you need to treat yourself.”

“Rhett,” she groans. She leans against the kitchen doorway, arms crossed and fighting off a smile. “It’s the fourth time this week you’ve shown up with dinner.”

“Fifth, if you count the rotisserie chicken.”

“These are starting to feel suspiciously like dates. Dates that happen to take place in my home, but dates all the same.”

“Can’t be dates,” I say, handing her a plate with a grin. “Dates require reservations and uncomfortable clothes. This is two people who work up an appetite doing cardio and need to refuel accordingly.”

Her eyes narrow, but she takes the plate anyway. The biggest indicator I’ve won this particular round.

We settle onto her couch with the food between us, and the evening takes shape. Another chill, enjoyable night we’re sharing together.

“You know,” I say between bites of brisket, “you could come over to my place sometime. Switch things up. I’ve got a decent setup. Nothing fancy, but my furniture’s comfortable and I make a solid cup of coffee in the morning.”