“Sleep well?” Eddie asked me the next morning at the breakfast table.
“Too quiet.” I scowled at him. “Why are so chipper?”
He shrugged. “Fresh air.”
My head throbbed and the early morning sun was way too bright considering how little I slept the night before. The bed was comfortable—if a little squeaky—and I’d been exhausted when I finally crawled between the sheets at two in the morning. But sleep didn’t come. I stared at the spiderweb crack in the ceiling above my bed for hours.
“I hope you like scrambled eggs,” Genevieve said as she carried a skillet over from the stove. “Ty says I make the best in five counties.”
She started heaping a pile of fluffy yellow onto my plate before I could say a word. Lucky for us both, I loved scrambled eggs.
The Haywood family kitchen looked like something out of a vintage issue of Better Homes and Gardens. Floral wallpaper, painted cabinets, and hardwood floors. The walls were covered with memorabilia—tin stars and embroidery samplers and framed pictures. A huge collection of magnets decorated the refrigerator and sunny yellow curtains framed the window above the sink.
“I like anything that goes in my mouth,” Eddie said, holding up his plate.
“See how I’m just letting that go?” I reached for the bottle of hot sauce on the Lazy Susan in the middle of the table. “You owe me.”
“Sure I do,” he replied with a wink. “Speaking of,” he said to Genevieve, “where is our fearless cowboy this morning?”
I kicked him under the table.
“Oh, he’s always out the door before dawn,” she replied, returning to the kitchen and setting the pan back on the stove. “But he’s usually back in time for breakfast.”
“Did someone say breakfast?”
The kitchen door swung open and Ty stepped inside. He wore pretty much the same uniform as yesterday, only his tee was green and his jeans a darker blue. He tugged the cap off his head and scrubbed a hand over his dark blond hair, lifting the hem of his shirt in the process and revealing a slice of his chiseled abs.
I shoved a bite of spicy egg into my mouth to hide the drool.
Focus, Cassie. Focus.
“Could someone grab the toast out of the oven?” Genevieve asked as she carried two more plates to the table.
Eddie the panther was to the oven and back with toast before she had set the first plate down in front of Ty as he dropped into the seat at the head of the table. Genevieve took the chair next to mine.
The whole scene was entirely too domestic. As if we were four friends—or four family members—gathered together for a meal. The only thing that ruined the intimacy was the knowledge that Eddie’s camera was set up on the counter, filming our every move.
We ate quietly for several minutes until the silence got to me.
“We should get started as soon as possible,” I said, shifting uncomfortably in my seat. “We need to maximize our shooting time. The more footage we get, the better. We want to give the editing team as much raw material as possible.”
“I still can’t quite believe it,” Genevieve said with a grin as she pushed eggs around on her plate. “My brother is going to be on television.”
Ty studied his eggs. “It’s no big deal, Gen.”
“It is,” she insisted. “Think of all the publicity the ranch will get. It might be just what you need to get the Black Willow out of—“
“Enough,” Ty interrupted, his voice gentle but firm. “Stop making a thing out of it.”
“I only meant it would be good for everyone,” Genevieve continued, unfazed by her brother’s reaction. “The ranch will get recognition, I’ll have a famous big brother. And if we’re both lucky, you’ll get tons of mail from adoring female fans.”
I laughed. I couldn’t help it.
I had barely known Genevieve for a day, and already I’d heard her lamenting her brother’s single state several times. Given her determination, I was amazed he hadn’t married just to get her off his back.
Ty shot me a sideways glance and then he started laughing too.
“She’s persistent,” I said.
He shook his head. “You have no idea.”
“I am still here, you know.” She poked me in the shoulder.
Eddie pushed back from the table and went to grab his camera.
“Sometimes,” Ty said, leaning in close to whisper, “I lock my door at night because I’m afraid she’s going to sneak someone in.”
“You do not!” she admonished.
“It’s probably safer that way,” I agreed. Then, when Genevieve punched me, I added, “Or you might just be making her angry.”
Genevieve pushed back from the table. “I give up.”
“Aw, don’t be mad sis,” Ty teased.
She threw an eye roll over her shoulder. “Whatever. You three need to get out of my kitchen so I can clean up. Go—“ She made a shooing gesture. “—do your Hollywood thing.”
“Actually,” I said, “it’s a New York thing.”
Genevieve glared at me.
Ty warned with a wink, “Be careful. You won’t like her when she’s angry.”
I bit back a smile.
She threw a wet dishrag at her brother—who ducked so that the sopping cloth hit the wall behind him, knocking down a framed aerial photo of the ranch.
Ty reached down and picked it up.
“See what a good brother I am,” he told me.
Genevieve turned on the water and squeezed dish soap into the sink, cheerfully returning to the task of cleaning up the breakfast dishes.
“Have a good day filming,” she said. “Y’all try not to fall off the horse.”
My heart thudded.
I had a sudden image of me with a broken neck, in traction and trapped in Texas indefinitely. Gorman would fire me for sure.
“Fall off?” I echoed.
“I’ll make sure her cinch is tight,” Ty insisted. To me, he said, “I won’t let you fall.”
Every single cell in my body believed him.
With an angelic smile, Genevieve turned to him and said, “I was talking to you.”
Then she blew him a kiss and he laughed again.
“I’ll never understand that girl,” he said and we headed out the kitchen door, Eddie right behind with the camera on his shoulder.
“You probably shouldn’t try,” I suggested. “She seems like a force.”
Ty glanced at me as we walked to his truck. “She is. After everything she’s been through, it’s amazing she gets out of bed each day.”
Before I could ask what he meant—not that I should have, I barely knew them—Ty yanked open the driver’s door and climbed into the cab. He reached across the bench seat, unlocked the passenger door, and pushed it open from the inside.
“Come on,” he said, waving me and Eddie into the truck. “We’ve got a cowgirl to make.”
I’d never ridden in a truck before. They always looked so big from the outside. But as Eddie climbed in after, I had to slide practically into Ty’s lap in order to make room for all three of us. Too bad Eddie couldn’t shoot the footage we needed from the bed of the truck.
For the sake of the show, I pressed against Ty, shoulder to shoulder and thigh to thigh. Oh the sacrifices I made for my work.
Andy's Playlist #5: Like My Dog by Billy Currington
(Sidenote: He's adorable and his dog is in the video!)
Tune in tomorrow for the next installment.
