Page 30 of Ace of Spades (Hidden Creek Ranch #1)

WESTON

I wake up to a warm body pressed into mine, my eyes cracking open to find Hailey snuggled up into me. Her face is tucked into the crook of my neck, her leg thrown over me. Turns out the girl is quite the cuddler, after all.

I’m careful not to wake her as I reach over to my nightstand, my phone reading just past six in the morning—just two hours before we need to get packed up to leave for South Dakota.

I’ve never been able to fall back asleep once I wake up in the mornings, the ranch life alarm clock inside of me refusing to let me sleep in.

And yet, this was the first time that I actually wanted to stay in bed as long as possible.

I didn’t cuddle—never really had, never thought I would like it, but something about this girl made me want to wrap her in my arms and never leave this damn bed.

I never really bring girls back to the ranch, let alone have them spend the night. Was I supposed to make her breakfast or something? Coffee—I’d heard the girls mention that Hailey was never fully functional until she had coffee, so maybe that could be a start.

I manage to roll out from under her, making sure she’s still out as I silently make my way to the dresser, pulling on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt as the dogs jump off of the bed.

I bring them with me as I hop into my truck, the sun slowly beginning its ascent as I make the quick drive down to the main lodge and sneak through the back door.

The place is empty, Fridays being Rhonda and Debbie’s day off from cooking breakfast. We let the ranch hands rotate morning feeding on weekends so that everybody can get a chance to sleep in, the girls included.

Which is why I don’t expect Debbie to be standing in the massive pantry, the sight of her vibrant auburn hair startling me as I swing the door open to find her scouring through the industrial-sized shelves.

“Debbie? What are you doing here?”

“Oh, good morning, Wes,” she turns, offering me a bright smile. “I thought you guys weren’t leaving for another couple of hours, what are you doing up so early?”

“I could ask you the same question,” I tell her. “Isn’t today your day off?”

“I woke up early and figured I’d get a head start on inventory. It’s about that time for another grocery order, and Rhonda and I were going to sit down this weekend and start making a meal plan for the bookings coming up in a few weeks. What about you?”

“Oh, uh—just figured I’d come grab some breakfast.”

“Want me to make you something? I’m already up, so I might as well.”

“No, really, it’s okay. Thank you though. I was just going to grab a few things and go make breakfast back at the cabin,” I tell her, walking over to help reach the bag of flour from the top shelf.

“I gotta say, it’s quite handy to have you tall folks around the ranch,” she says as I hand it over.

“Tall? Who told you I was tall?” I ask, offering her a cheeky smile as I grab a bag for myself before moving to the next shelf, grabbing the sugar and baking powder.

Debbie studies me curiously, turning to face me fully as she leans her shoulder against the shelves.

“And who exactly are you making breakfast for on this lovely morning?” she asks, giving me a knowing look.

“Nobody. I’m just in the mood for pancakes today.”

“Weston Langford, you are the worst liar I’ve ever met. Did you forget that I had a teenage daughter at one point in time? Nothing gets past me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I tell her, heading back into the kitchen with Debbie hot on my heels. I set the ingredients on the counter, moving to the fridge to grab some milk and eggs and placing them in the pile .

Grabbing a disposable coffee cup from the cabinet, I fill it with the coffee that Debbie must have made, topping it with a lid and trying to figure out how I was going to carry all of this.

“Do you have any bags around here I could borrow? I’ll bring everything back, promise,” I ask, trifling around through the cabinets.

“You know,” she says, resting her arms on the counter with an amused look across her face. “Hailey doesn’t have much of a sweet tooth in the mornings.”

“What are you talking about? She’s always the first to finish her plate whenever we have dessert,” I say, wincing as soon as I realize my mistake. I turn to find Debbie holding a barely contained smile, a satisfied smirk on her face.

“What gave me away?” I ask.

Her eyes dart to the coffee cup. Of course—Hailey is the only girl on the ranch who drinks her coffee black, like some sort of sociopath.

“Make her a breakfast sandwich, not pancakes,” Debbie tells me, moving past me to grab more things out of the fridge.

“A breakfast sandwich?”

“You know—with an egg, ham, cheese, all of that good stuff. It’s how her cook back home used to make it for her when she was little. Here,” she tells me, grabbing a loaf of her fresh sourdough bread sitting on the cooling rack.

“I baked this last night. I was going to give it to Rhonda and Mike as a thank you for holding down the fort while I visited Cheyenne a few days ago, but I can make another one today.”

“Are you sure? ”

“Yes, I’m sure. Now, go bring that girl some coffee before she wakes up and gets cranky.”

“Love you, Debs,” I tell her, accepting the bread as I give her a kiss on the cheek, turning to pack everything I need into a tote before heading back out to the truck where the dogs were waiting.

Hailey is still asleep when I get back to the house, all splayed out across my sheets.

I don’t waste any time unpacking everything I need, heating up a pan with some butter before cracking some eggs in and preheating the oven to cook the bacon.

I unload my grocery haul, getting to work as the dogs scurry about at my feet.

“Do I smell bacon?”

I was about ready to start putting the sandwiches together when Hailey’s sleepy voice came from behind me, turning to find her standing in my kitchen in nothing but my boxers and an oversized t-shirt, the hem nearly reaching her knees.

“Sure do,” I tell her, buttering the freshly cut slices of bread and toasting them in the frying pan. “There’s coffee on the counter over there.”

She follows my line of sight, immediately going to grab the cup and take a sip of approval.

“What are you making?”

“Breakfast sandwiches,” I tell her, her eyes lighting up as she comes to stand by me.

“Really? Those are my favorite. How did you know?”

“I can’t take credit for that, I ran into Debbie at the lodge.”

Hailey’s eyes widen, meeting mine.

“Debbie knows? ”

“Relax, she’s not going to tell anybody.”

“What did you tell her?”

“I didn’t tell her anything. The thing about that woman is she’s wiser than she lets on, I swear she knows everything that’s going on around the ranch at all times.”

“Oh,” Hailey says, taking a seat at one of the bar stools lining the small kitchen island and sipping more of her coffee. “I don’t—um, I don’t think we should tell anybody about… whatever this is.”

“And what is this , exactly,” I ask, giving her my most charming smirk.

Her sun-kissed cheeks redden.

“I mean… it’s… I don’t know, nothing I guess. It’s just sex, after all, right?”

“Right,” I confirm, though something sinks in my chest. Did I want it to be more than just sex ? No, that would be ridiculous. Right? I didn’t do more than sex. And besides, it was Hailey, we could hardly stand each other half of the time.

A silence falls over us as I plate out sandwiches, sliding one over for her.

“Do you always cook breakfast?” she finally asks, taking a bite and letting out a little satisfied moan that sends a jolt straight to my groin.

“Not really, I’m more of a cereal-in-the-morning type of guy. It’s quick, easy and I can never get enough of the sweetened milk.”

“Are you a child?” she asks, covering her mouth as she lets out a giggle .

“Don’t lie to me, Sorrels. You know that’s the best part about eating cereal.”

“I only used to eat cereal when Grace, our cook, took a day off, which wasn’t very often,” she tells me.

“There was a period of time where cereal was all we could afford,” I tell her.

“And even after that, mom was usually working two jobs, so she wasn’t ever home to cook us breakfast. Cereal was the safest option, especially with Dakota’s cooking.

She might actually be a worse cook than you, honestly. ”

She chuckles, but a sad look crosses her features, something almost akin to pity.

“Is that why you learned to cook? So you wouldn’t have to eat your sister’s cooking?”

“Pretty much,” I laugh, leaning over the counter as I take a bite, the perfectly runny egg yolks dripping onto my plate.

“Mom was always exhausted when she’d get home, so I started making our dinners so that it would be one less thing for her to worry about.

I wanted her to be able to relax and have a warm meal ready when she got home. ”

“It sounds like you really stepped up for them. Your mom and Dakota, I mean.”

“I did my best to become the man of the house. After my father left, I felt like it was my duty to take care of them.”

“That must have been rough on you, having to grow up that fast.”

“I didn’t mind. At the end of the day, I’ve still always considered myself lucky.

Yeah, my father was a piece of shit that left us to fend for ourselves, but I got a closer relationship with my mom and sister because of it.

And yeah, I might have had to grow up pretty fast, but that didn’t mean I didn’t still have a childhood.

I had friends, I rodeoed, and I did well in school.

Most of the time, at least—there was that one semester spent at the juvenile delinquent center. ”

“What did you do to get sent there?” she asks, her face rapt with fascination.

“Fighting,” I tell her with a wicked grin.

“Wes! I didn’t know you were such a little delinquent,” she giggles.

“To my defense, it was for good reason,” I tell her, grabbing our empty plates and putting them in the sink.