Lennon’s jaw fell a little. “The whole damn ranch?”
“It was the only agreement she’d take.” And I wouldn’t say no. Not if it meant seeing Avery that happy again. I didn’t know them, but something told me they needed this.
It was also a small excuse to see Sage again, too.
“Cal, you never offer lessons for free,” he stated.
“Your point is?” I knew where he was going with this, and I didn’t want to hear it.
“You like her.”
I scoffed, sitting back in the chair and swigging my beer. “I’ve only met her twice now. I can’t like her.”
“So you did go to the cafe the other day,” he said, putting the pieces together on his own.
“I did.”
“Why didn’t you get a coffee, then?”
I sighed. Did I really have to relive this to my older brother?
“We bumped into each other. Twice. She spilled coffee, cut her finger. It was a whole thing. But regardless, I don’t like her.”
He arched a brow.
“Obviously, I like her, but not in the way you’re insinuating.” Now that Lennon had a girlfriend, he thought he could be everyone’s matchmaker, and I was not about to be his next target.
“We’ll see.”
I rolled my eyes.
It wasn’t going to go anywhere between me and Sage, and the sooner Lennon got off his high horse and understood that her daughter was just my student, the better off we’d all be.
I didn’t need my family trying to play matchmaker on me, too.
7
Sage
The lids on the Tupperware full of baked goods couldn’t keep the sweet smell from wafting into the car as we drove to the Bronsons’ ranch.
“Do I get to have one, too?” Avery asked from the back seat.
I adjusted my grip on the steering wheel as I turned down their driveway. “You’ve already had two.”
“What’s one more?” she chimed.
“You don’t want a tummy ache while you’re riding, do you?” Because I knew what came after she overindulged in my pastries. This wouldn’t be the first time.
“Well, no. But it’s only one more.”
And that one more would turn into three more the second I turned my back. Avery had an even bigger sweet tooth than me, and my baking-to-relieve-stress problem was not helping. If anything, Callan letting me bring these for the ranch was a good thing, because then it’d keep them off my kitchen table. Regardless if he had said yes or no, they were going to be made anyway.
Baking was the thing I did to calm my nerves. The precise measurements and aroma that came from a warm croissant or fresh scone grounded me when nothing else would. Sure, I could light a candle and get a similar scent throughout the house, but it wasn’t the same. It was the process of baking that did it for me.
I pulled the car up to the white barn, taking the key out of the ignition and getting out along with Avery. I rounded the vehicle, opening the passenger door to grab the Tupperware on the seat. There were a total of three. I wasn't sure how many to make as I didn’t know how many volunteers or ranch hands they had here, but I figured it was better to be safe than sorry and make more.
Cowboys were always hungry, anyway.
“Here, let me help you,” Callan’s deep voice offered from behind me.
I turned, coming face to face with him, the Tupperware touching both our chests. “Thank you.”
He set a hand under the bottom one, his fingers grazing mine as he grabbed them from me, our eyes latched onto each other. The hazel of his irises was so rich, with flecks of amber and gold exploding around his pupils. It was like a galaxy, and I was lost in it.
“My mama brought these for you,” Avery interrupted.
I swallowed as Callan cleared his throat, both our gazes dropping to Avery beside us. “Well, for everyone,” I corrected.
“Were you her taste tester?” he asked Avery.
She nodded, her hair bouncing over her shoulders. “I always am.”
“And what’s the verdict?”
“Dee-licious,” she answered with confidence.
The corner of Callan’s mouth ticked up. “That’s what I like to hear.”
