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“Is she pregnant?” he asks quietly, brows raising.

That’s irritating. “No, but I wish she was,” I bite back. “You should know that wouldn’t be enough for me to lock down.”

He holds up his palm, sitting back into his recliner. “I was just curious. I know you’re pretty stand-up, but I wasn't sure what you’d do if that was the circumstance.”

I jaunt my hip against the corner of his desk, too amped up to want to sit. But my voice drops into husky tones as the emotion runs so damn close to the surface. “I really love her, Dix. I never thought it’d happen.”

He nods. “She’s a good one, Blue. She’s also my wife’s best friend, so she’s already like family.” A smile crackshis stern features. “And you’re like a brother.” He pauses, swirling his empty glass on the end of the leather arm. “Speaking of. I know Mason agreed to the cow thing. Do you really think it’s solvent?”

Ah, business. A comfortable topic.

“Yea. There’s some updating that needs to be done, but it’s in the black. Clay’s slack-assed the last few years since his wife died—”

“I get that. I’d be lost without Char.” His eyes flick up, filled with pain. “That stuff hits harder now, you know.” His chin juts towards the closed door. “Just like if anything happened to Libby.”

The thought derails me, making me slump into the seat next to me.

It really would.

Fuck. That damn picture I found of her in that stack Wade confiscated surges into my mind.

I need to get that addressed.

“There it is.” He watches me closely. “Hadn’t really thought about that yet?”

“No. But I set the property up in a trust so that if I die, she’s taken care of.” I pat the folder on my lap.

He grunts. “I’ll be damned.” Slapping his palms over his knees, he stands. “Go on, get started on them babies so ours will have friends toplay with.”

“I’ll send you the details for the wedding. Lib and I both want it soon. It’s like…we both justknow.” How else do I explain it?

He pats my shoulder. “I completelyunderstand.”

Chapter Thirty-two

Libby

“I’m nervous as shit,”I stammer to Blue watching Mason’s truck pull in.

He tugs me against his side, then presses his lips against my temple. “It’ll be fine. You aren’t alone in this, and your dad doesn’t have a stake anymore.”

My nails dig into my palms. “Then why am I so worried about when he realizes what happened?”

“Because you love him,” Blue says quietly. “And you don’t want to hurt him.”

He’s right. I let my anger and frustration fuel this entire endeavor to get the dairy.

But now that it’s mine, it’s a hollow victory knowing I had to lie to my dad. And I’ve been keeping up the charade, telling him that I’ve been running things until the new owners take over.

It makes me feel downright crappy.

“Morning.” Mason slams his truck shut, slinging what looks like a baseball bag over his shoulder.

Sawyer unfolds his lanky form from the passenger side, then fetches a big metal cylinder from the back seat.

“We have everyone pushed into the far pen so we can run them through the chutes for you.” There’s a little tremor in my voice.

This is getting soreal.