Page 7 of Before You Can Blink (Rust Canyon #4)

“Not.”

She scoffed. “And why the hell not?”

I poured gravy into the divot I’d made in my mashed potatoes. “Because she’s gone home to Virginia to visit with her father.”

Ma made an unimpressed noise in the back of her throat. “Must not be giving it to her good enough if she’s willing to leave you overnight.”

“Jesus Christ,” I muttered, dragging a hand down my face. This woman had no filter. Every thought that popped into her brain was spoken into existence.

“It’s your own damn fault if you’ve gotten lazy, letting the women ride you after you’re done riding the horses.”

“Enough!” My fist came down so hard on the table that all the dishes rattled.

She clicked her tongue. “I’ll let it slide because your daddy used to get testy when he was backed up too. Make sure to take care of that tonight, you hear? Clean out those pipes so you’re not still in this mood when your girl gets back. ”

My chair scraped against the hardwood as I rose to my feet. “You know what, I’ve lost my appetite.”

A sharp snap sounded. “Sit your ass back down. You can choke the chicken after you eat this meal I spent all day making.”

Groaning, I obeyed. I wasn’t going to last much longer living in this house. If it weren’t so far outside of town, I’d beg to crash on Murphy and Layla’s couch. It would be an easier commute for training, but I would have to give up meeting Daisy at the Watering Hole every night.

Not that I’d ever admit it to her face, but maybe my mom was on to something when she suggested my agitation was because Daisy had gone out of town. It had only been a few days, but already, I missed her smile, her laughter, and the warmth she exuded without effort.

“When she gets back, I expect you to bring her by.”

“Ma, it’s only been a month.”

Eyes lifting from her plate, she pursed her lips. “Okay . . .” Oh God, I could practically see the wheels turning in her head and knew trouble was brewing. “If you won’t bring her here, I’ll just have to mosey my way down to the Watering Hole and crash one of your little ‘dates’.”

Fuuuuuuuck.

“Fine,” I grumbled. “When she’s back.”

And then I sent up a silent prayer that introducing Daisy to my mother wouldn’t scare her away.

January

“Do I look all right?” Daisy smoothed both hands over her skirt. The nervous gesture was endearing as hell .

Threading our fingers, I tugged her toward the front door of my childhood—and off-season—home. “You look perfect.” And I meant it. I’d picked her up after the school day was over, and her professional appearance had her looking way out of my league.

Who was I kidding? She was out of my league, no matter what she wore.

Her lips twisted to the side as she plucked at the hem of her blouse. “There’s paint on my shirt. I should’ve gone home to change.”

“Here.” I shrugged out of my coat and placed it over her shoulders. “Problem solved.”

Daisy brought the collar to her nose, her eyes sliding closed as she inhaled. My chest puffed up, witnessing how much she enjoyed my scent.

When her lashes lifted, she smiled softly at me. “Thank you, but you can’t expect me to keep this coat on all evening.”

“Oh, honey. We aren’t gonna be here that long. Trust me.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “We’re not?”

Poor thing had no idea that she was about to come face-to-face with the human tornado known as Betsy Sullivan. The only way to walk away from this unscathed would be to get in and out as quickly as possible.

“Definitely not,” I replied firmly.

With wide eyes, she nodded. “Okay.”

I gave a quick knock to alert my mother that we were about to step inside, then pushed the door open.

“Ma?” I called out when I saw the living room was empty.

“In the kitchen!” she shouted back. “Putting the finishing touches on dinner.”

Stifling a groan, I moved in that direction. “I told you we had other plans tonight.” It wasn’t an outright lie, considering Daisy and I had a standing date every evening at the Watering Hole .

“Nonsense.” My mother rounded the corner, dusting her hands on her apron before untying the string and casting the fabric aside. “You’re staying.” Her tone brooked no argument, and panic set in that Daisy and I might not make it out of here in one piece.

“Well,” Ma prompted. “You gonna introduce us or what?”

“Ma, this is Daisy Morrison. Daisy, please meet my mother, Betsy Sullivan.”

Daisy fidgeted beside me, her hand lifting for a handshake before she thought better of it, and it fell back to her side. “Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Sullivan.”

“Pshaw.” My mother’s arm waved through the air. “Mrs. Sullivan was my mother-in-law. Betsy is just fine, honey.” Then she turned her sharp gaze on me, snapping, “Jett! Offer to take the girl’s coat.”

Clutching it closed over her midsection, Daisy protested, “I’m fine, really.”

With an eagle eye, Ma’s gaze swept over my female companion before lifting to meet mine. “She pregnant?”

A rush of heat crawled up the back of my neck as I shouted, “Ma! No!”

For crying out loud, we hadn’t even slept together yet, and the odds of that happening decreased with every minute Daisy spent inside this house.

The woman standing opposite us shrugged, unbothered by her completely outrageous and inappropriate question.

“What? I’m not judging.” Speaking to Daisy, she added, “If he’s anything like his father, he’s gonna need a little ‘whoopsie’ to get his ass to the altar.

These Sullivan men sure know how to drag their feet, and sometimes they need a little nudge, so keep that in mind. ”

“Jesus,” I breathed out, eyes lifting to the ceiling as I shook my head. What had I done wrong in a past life to deserve this ?

“Don’t act so surprised,” Ma huffed. “Doesn’t take a fancy college degree to do the math between our wedding date and your birthday.”

“I was premature,” I clarified to Daisy.

A snort sounded from my mama. “Yeah, that’s what we told folks. Though I’m not sure anyone believed it when you came a month ‘early’”—she used air quotes for emphasis—“weighin’ nine pounds.”

Daisy’s hand came up to cover her mouth, and her entire body began vibrating as her eyes shone with mirth.

“Are you laughing ?“ I asked in disbelief.

“Sorry.” She tried hard to look contrite but failed miserably, the corners of her lips turning upward.

Voice low, I muttered, “We’ll see if you’re still laughing by the time dinner is over.”

“Coat, Jett. I know I raised you to have better manners than this.” The words were accompanied by a tsk.

Daisy rushed to explain. “That’s my fault, Betsy. Things got a little messy during our art session today in my classroom, and I’m afraid I’ve got paint on my clothes.”

“Life’s messy, darlin’. No need to apologize for it,” came my mother’s reply.

“I’ll try to remember that.” Letting me ease the heavy coat from her shoulders, she made a show of sniffing the air. “Whatever you’re cooking smells delicious.”

“Nothing better than a savory roast on a cold winter’s day.” Ma wagged a finger in Daisy’s direction. “I’ll give you the recipe. Fastest way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.”

Though she drove me nuts, I could admit my mama knew her way around a kitchen.

In fact, Naomi Saddler was thinking about opening up a restaurant on Main Street that featured barbequed meats and classic country cuisine, and she’d asked my mother if she would be interested in taking up a part-time position as a cook until she found more permanent staffing.

Betsy Sullivan didn’t do anything by half-measures and had countered by offering to become a silent partner in the business.

When she told me about her plans to use my pop’s life insurance to set herself up financially long-term, I couldn’t help but be impressed.

“Solid advice,” my girl—fuck could I even call her that with the casual thing we had going?—replied with a smile.

Then, an even bigger question entered my brain: Did I want her to be my girl?

As much as I wanted the answer to be yes, it wasn’t fair to ask someone as sweet and pretty and kind as Daisy to tie herself to a rough and rowdy rodeo cowboy like me. She deserved more than I could give her.

All I knew was I wasn’t ready to let her go. Not yet, anyway.

After what felt like an eternity later, we finally walked out the door and into the now pitch-black winter night.

My heavy breath created an icy puff before my face as I turned to Daisy. “Ready to run?”

Light laughter fell from her kissable lips. “Are you kidding? I haven’t had that much fun in ages.” Both hands rose to her cheeks. “I’m gonna be feeling the ache from smiling so much come morning.”

I was absolutely blown away that Daisy not only handled my ma’s strong personality in stride, but she enjoyed her company. Damn, this girl was something else—something my mother made sure to note when Daisy snuck off to the bathroom, along with a warning not to let this one get away.

“It’s refreshing to meet someone who speaks their mind,” she mused.

“A novelty that’s sure to wear off with time,” I countered.

Daisy cocked an eyebrow. “Plan on keeping me around long?”

I reached out to take her hand before brushing her knuckles with my lips. “I like spending time with you, Daze. I’m sure that’s no secret.”

Even in the glow of the moonlight, I caught her slight blush. Lashes dropping to fan her cheeks, she whispered, “I like spending time with you too.”

“Mighty glad to hear it, darlin’. So what do you say we keep spending time together until one or both of us gets sick of the other?”

Lips folding inward, she nodded. “I’m okay with that.”

“Good.” I tugged her toward my waiting truck. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got a date for a nightcap with this beautiful girl I met, and I don’t want to be late.”

Her giggles were music to my ears, and I made myself a promise to enjoy every minute with this girl before our time together was through.

March