Page 42 of The Cowboy Who Stayed

She groans, “Rhett, don’t become one of those guys.”

“What guys would those be?”

“The pissing contest guys. The-always-measuring-himself-up guys. But to answer your question—yes, he’s always that cocky.”

Her phone buzzes on the counter next to us.

She snatches it up almost as quickly as the alert hits. I’m still able to glance at what lights up the screen.

A text emoji along with the notification Craig has sent the message.

Her throat clears, and my hand comes up to the back of my neck.

We both look away and play off the moment. Pretend I didn’t notice the text that’s come through while she pretends she didn’t see me notice.

A knot forms in my gut regardless.

“More coffee before you head out?”

“Better not. I don’t want to go into the delivery too wired. See you tonight?”

I nod as she plants a final goodbye kiss on my cheek. She’s tucked her phone into the palm of her hand, keeping it pressed against her side as she walks out of the room.

I heave a sigh and pick up a mug to fill with coffee. As frustrating as it is, I’ve got no choice but to trust Craig Gibson’s a part of Vivica’s past.

That he’ll stay that way.

The big news of the ranch that day ends up being the heifer’s delivery.

From what I hear through the grapevine, Vivica and Ridge handled it like clockwork. The delivery process was smooth, and mama and baby are in good shape.

I catch a glimpse of Vivica afterward from across the pasture. She peels off her work gloves as she walks side by side with Ridge, likely discussing what they’ve done.

Our eyes connect, and she gives me a brief nod. About as warm as the October air.

I should be used to it by now; our distance at work, still pretending we’ve got nothing to do with each other.

But I’m no liar, and it does unsettle me a little. It does make me think about this morning’s text from her ex-husband. Last night’s run-in on Main Street.

…is it possible these are the initial warning signs we’ve hit the end of the road?

My phone buzzes moments later with a message from Vivica, letting me know tonight’s no good after all. We’ll have to do another night this week.

I understand… but I’m also once again questioning if these are warning signs.

I grab a fence post and use it to stretch and roll my shoulders. My attempt to stall as I think but also fight the stiffness in my spine.

“Get a hold of yourself. Who gives a fuck if her ex is in town?”

“You alright, brother?” I glance up to find Joaquin plodding over. His mouth is quirked in a grin, laughter entrenched in his tone. “How’s the good doctor?”

“Depends,” I answer. “How’re you feeling about having your teeth knocked out for still taunting me about her?”

“Not too enthusiastic, if I’m being honest.”

“Then you’ve got your answer, don’t you?”

Joaquin chuckles and leans his arms against the fence. “You know I’m just giving you shit. Honestly? You look like you could use a drink. The Hen House after work? Ricky’s already in.”