Page 56

He let his mind roll ahead of the SUV. Strangely, he didn’t much miss Chicago, maybe because his penthouse held no memories of Stephanie or Jamie. Most of those were wrapped up in the duplex on Hummingbird Lane. The small cabin had few of the luxuries he was used to. Few of the frills he’d been surrounded with all his life, but then, it didn’t need a fancy kitchen, since they took most of their meals at the lodge. Would Stephanie still want to do that, now that they were married?

Tate laid his hand on the console, palm up.

She rested hers on his, and he reveled in her gentle touch. How she settled him, soothed his rough spots, completed him… all while awakening him and inspiring him.

“I’m so thankful for you.”

Stephanie smiled at him, her hazel eyes warm. “Backatcha.”

“Will you still want to eat at the lodge, or would you prefer to cook at home?” If the ranch truly would become or remain their home, wouldn’t he want to build something a little nicer? Something fitting for a growing family with roots rather than generic staff housing? He’d need to think on that.

“We can keep going the way we have been for now.”

It wasn’t like Jamie would allow them moments for stolen daytime trysts. Tate nodded. “Let me know if that changes.”

“Okay.” She looked pensive.

“What are you thinking?” He had a feeling he’d be asking that a lot… or wishing he had.

“Your words reminded me of an old story. A joke, I guess it was supposed to be.”

“Oh? Tell me.”

“The way I remember it, a couple had been married many years. He was surprised to come home one day and find his wife packing up to leave him.”

Uh oh. Tate didn’t like the way this tale was going.

“He asked why, and she said he didn’t love her anymore. He said of course he did. He’d told her so the day he’d married her, and he’d would have let her know if he’d changed his mind.”

Tate chuckled in relief. “I’ll keep telling you I love you, so you won’t need to worry about that happening to us. Deal?”

She shot him a quick smile. “Fair enough. I love you, too, for the record. I’m not concerned about that exact scenario.”

“Then… what?”

“It’s hard to put into words.”

Tate waited, glancing at her a few times as he drove. Was he going to have to prod her further?

“Just, this is your life. Your family. I’ve been around, on the fringes, at least, for a couple of months, but not enough to know what all the expectations are. You ask if I want to eat meals at the lodge or cook for us at home. I notice you didn’t offer to cook. Do men not do that in your world?”

It was his turn to wince. “Not often, to be honest. Not because it’s a womanly duty, but because we put in long hours, and that doesn’t leave much time or energy. At home, there’s a lot of takeout after hours, if we haven’t had a working dinner.”

“That’s another thing.”

Was she going to call him out on his slip about Chicago being home? He waited.

“Those late meetings, those evening meetings… they’ve got to go.”

“It’s only been like that recently because of the ranch’s relaunch.” In his peripheral vision, he saw her eyebrows tip up. “What?”

“You just said it was your normal previously.”

“Uh.” Tate scratched his jaw. “You’re right. I guess I did say that.”

“Which is it?”

“Truthfully? I never really thought about it in Chicago. I had no reason to care. Nothing calling me back to my penthouse. I—”