Jared’s wide kitchen window afforded Starla a panoramic view of his pasture, which stretched on for acres before meeting a distant tree line. It had taken her breath the first time she’d looked out, and now that she’d been standing at the sink washing potatoes for several minutes, she was somewhat addicted to the picturesque beauty. And leaving the huge barn now was Jared hauling two buckets with Ashley and Mia at his heels.
They’d changed out of their church clothes—he’d looked damn fine in that dark blue dress shirt that further lightened his amazing eyes—and the landscape wasn’t the only thing that had caused her breath to hitch. In an old black T-shirt now and faded jeans stuffed haphazardly into work boots, he was in his true element. The weight of whatever was in the buckets rippled the muscles in his tanned forearms. She remembered the strength of those arms around her. Ashley and Mia stopped to inspect something on the ground. He turned and said something to them while Starla enjoyed the view of his strong neck and jawline. The girls scuttled obediently to his side again.
Adorable. They were wearing boots too, Ashley in pink, Mia in purple, their hair in swinging ponytails—probably the only hairstyle their daddy knew how to achieve. The three of them continued on until they moved out of Starla’s line of sight. She sighed and turned her attention back to what her hands were doing, scrubbing furiously at potatoes.
It was all so weird. Could she get used to something like this? Making dinner for a husband and kids while they took care of evening chores? She didn’t know. It was all her parents had ever wanted her to do. She’d said “fuck that” pretty much from the start, but now…yeah, she didn’t know. It would be kind of nice if she could find someone like Jared, who probably wouldn’t be a psycho asshole.
Then again, Ghost had tried to warn her about Max. She hadn’t listened. Now he was trying to warn her about Jared, and yet again she was ignoring his advice, making excuses for why he would feel that way. She was here, in Jared’s house, hell, falling in love with his house.
Had she really needed warning about Max, though? Common sense had dictated not to mess around with him. She hadn’t cared. It was her own advice she hadn’t heeded, really, not anyone else’s. With Jared, there simply weren’t any warning flags yet that she could see. It was nice here. He was nice. The pictures of extended family all around his living room looked nice.
If anyone was throwing up warning flags in this house, it was her.
The thought was sobering. It put her in her place. She tossed the potatoes in a big bowl she’d found and set about peeling them with the peeler she’d located in the first drawer she checked. Everything so well organized. Probably his ex-wife’s doing, and he’d kept up her routine.
And what had the ex-wife been like? She already knew what Macy was like. A freaking rodeo queen. She and Jared had been raised together, childhood sweethearts. Everyone had expected them to get married and have their happy ending, but then Macy had gotten badly injured in a horse riding accident and pushed him away. At least that was what Ghost told Starla once. She couldn’t remember many of the details, because at the time, she hadn’t much cared.
Now she wished she’d paid attention. What a small world.
As Starla picked up a knife to start chopping, the back door opened to the trill of indistinctly complaining little-girl voices and Jared’s exasperated reply. Their voices came nearer, and finally she could make out what the girls were upset about.
“…so pretty, though. I want pink.”
“I want purple.”
Oh no. Her hair. Chuckling, Starla continued her task, straining her ears for their dad’s reply.
“Go wash your hands.” His tone brooked no argument. The girls marched through the living room and down the hallway, ponytails swishing with their angry steps.
“Sorry,” she mouthed at Jared as he came into the kitchen. He grinned at her, shaking his head.
“Don’t worry about it. They get a thought in their head, and there’s no stopping them.”
“It’s just a suggestion, but I have some hair chalk. Not with me, but it’s pretty good, and it washes right out. They might think it’s fun, anyway, if you wanted to let them try it.”
“That might be all right, I guess.”
“Really? I can bring it…” She trailed off, aghast. She’d almost said next time. As if there would be one. They didn’t even know how well this time was going to go. “I can bring it by to them sometime, and they can have a ball coloring each other’s hair.”
“I’m sure they’d love that. Dinner smells great, by the way.”
“Thanks.” She glanced around at the stainless-steel appliances, dark cherry cabinets, and granite countertops. Acres and acres of countertops. “I’m in love with your kitchen. So much better than the little cubby we have at my house.”
“Well, you know…” His mouth lifted in a sheepish grin, and some cold corner of her heart began a slow thaw. “Feel free to come by and put it to use anytime.”