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Farrah nodded, sitting across the table from me. “And our moms. Should be a good time.”

“Your moms? Why?”

Seeming confused by the question, she said, “Because we like spending time together?”

I let out a sound between a chuckle and a grunt, focusing back on my computer. I needed to go over these meeting minutes from accounting and make sure I had a comprehensive brief prepared for the next C-suite meeting.

Just a few taps on my keyboard later, and I could feel Farrah staring at me.

I glanced up, looking into her half-suspicious, half-incredulous gaze. “Yes?”

“What was that sound for?” she asked, arms folded over her voluptuous chest.

Don’t be a pervert.

“Nothing,” I replied lightly.

She waited for my answer, and I let out a sigh. “I just find people who get along with their parents an anomaly on par with... Sasquatch. Kids who aren’t sticky. A holiday party without discussion of politics.”

Her eyes widened. “So basically, you’re telling me, a mom of three, that all of my children will hate me one day, so I should just give up now?”

“Don’t be absurd. You have three—odds are one will need money from time to time.” I got the distinct feeling I was lucky to be sitting across the table because she would have wacked me by now.

“But believing in that is like hoping for Sasquatch, right?” she said.

I tapped my nose, looking back down at my screen.

But then my computer shut, and I glared back up at the curly-haired culprit. “What was that for?”

“Don’t take your mommy issues out on me, Griffen.”

I smirked at her annoyed look, which only made her more annoyed.

She shook her head. “You were with your brother Friday... Do neither of you talk to your parents?”

“Rhett does. I prefer to keep my distance.” There was a dull ache in my chest, the one that had been there since I was twenty years old and hearing my dad say the harshest words he’d ever used on me.

“Why’s that?” she asked.

I glanced up into her questioning brown eyes, and even though I thought she was genuinely curious and wouldn’t use it against me, I kept it vague. “My parents and I didn’t see eye to eye.”

“What do you mean?” she asked. “I feel like you’re speaking in riddles.”

I let out a breath, wishing I had some bourbon to ease the knot forming in the back of my neck. I rubbed it out, saying, “My parents have a small ranch outside of Cottonwood Falls, but it wasn’t big enough to support multiple families, even though all of us kids would have loved to work on it when we grew up. When I went to college, I worked for a property manager who gave me lots of ideas on how to grow a business, but my dad didn’t like them. He thought I was ‘money hungry’ and heading down the wrong path. So I told him he was playing small and hurting his family. There may have been a few more words exchanged. We haven’t talked since then, except for Tyler’s wedding.”

Farrah’s lips parted, about to speak, but I held up my hand.

“Before you tell me it’s a petty argument, that’s not even what I’m upset about anymore.”

“Oh,” she said gently. “Really?”

It actually felt good to get it off my chest to someone outside of my family. “It’s the fact that the man who raised me, my hero, the one I always looked up to... He was supposed to see the best in me but thought so poorly of me to say those things, and even still, he loves his pride more than he loves me. More than a decade with no apology because I wanted our ranch to be a true family operation.” I felt exposed, laying it all out there for Farrah to see. I expected her to tell me I was being childish, to let it go, but instead, she reached across the table, laying her hand over mine.

My skin heated under hers, and I stared at the connection, the way her skin looked against mine, light olive to my red undertones.

When I met her eyes, she tilted her head. “He should have reached out, Gage.” She bit her lip. “The thought of spending a week without my kids during their summer break is killing me. I can’t imagine a decade of no contact.”

I turned my hand, holding hers in my palm—I’d only allow myself a moment. A little bit of this comfort she gave so freely. “That’s because you’re a good mom.” I cleared the emotion from my throat. “Your kids are lucky to have you.”