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I’ll always want to make him proud. Which means I gotta talk to Mollie. I can’t afford to get fired right now. And maybe…

I mean, what if Garrett wanted us to work together? I haveno fucking idea why he’d want that, but I do know he was torn up about the mistakes he’d made with his daughter.

Even if he didn’t want Mollie and me working together—even if he did really just forget to update the will—I still have to iron this out.

And, yeah, maybe if I establish some kind of functional working relationship with Mollie, there’ll be rewards for my brothers and me down the road.

Maybe, if I play nice, she’ll eventually get bored and spend all her time making more sparkly cowboy boots, leaving the ranch to me and the boys. And Ella, of course.

A year is nothing.

I can do anything for a year. Keep four brothers and a niece alive. Tend to fifteen thousand head of cattle.

Surely, I can work with Mollie Luck without one or both of our lifeless bodies ending up in a ditch?

At four, I’m at the house. Through the open window above the sink, I can see Patsy is already in the kitchen, the velvety smell of coffee filling my head as I step up to the door.

I draw up short when I see Mollie standing at the stove.

Wait a second.

Wait.

She’s finally showing her face? What’s changed?

I’m shocked—relieved—to see her. I’m also shocked she’s up this early. But the most shocking thing of all? She appears to be actively helping Patsy cook breakfast, stirring something in a pan while our chef chops some veggies by the sink.

“I went on this stupid diet once where all I could have was egg whites, green peppers, and mezcal,” Mollie tells Patsy as she sips a mug of coffee. “Now I’m an expert at making omelets. And mezcal margaritas.”

Patsy laughs. “What kind of diet was that?”

“I get really bad stomachaches all the time. No one canreally figure out what the problem is, so I’ve been put on all these different diets to see if anything makes me feel better.”

“Have you had any luck?”

Mollie shrugs. “Not yet.”

She gets stomachaches? Is that why she only ate green beans the other day?

Also,why the fuck do I care?

Sweet Jesus,whydoes she have to look so damn cute so early in the morning? My eyes rove up her legs and back. For the first time, she’s wearing something semi-normal: a pair of jeans and a white T-shirt. Her hair is pulled back in a ponytail.

She’s also wearing glasses. I step closer to the entrance and peer through the open screen door.

Fuck, since when am I attracted to girls who wear glasses?

“I’m so glad you decided to join us today,” Patsy says. “I hope you’re feeling better?”

Mollie is quiet for a beat. “I am. I think I needed a little time to…process. Work’s also been crazy, so that didn’t help. I’ve been chained to my laptop all day, every day.”

“But I hope exciting things are in store?”

Mollie smiles. “I hope so, yes. Would you like hot sauce on your omelet?”

City Girl is actually doing something nice for someone else? I’m confused.

Patsy slides a tray of sweet potato hash browns into the oven. “I’d love some, thanks. I keep it there in that cabinet to the right of the range. We go through it like you wouldn’t believe—the cowboys dowse everything in Texas Pete.”