“What if he doesn’t?” I drop my head down, hating the thought of being rejected by Jackson yet again.

Trip softly pinches my chin and forces me to look into his eyes. “He will. You’re worth fighting for. Any idiot can see that. Now that he sees you’ve moved on so easily He knows he was a fool for ever letting you go. It’s his turn to feel the sting of rejection. Trust me, he wants you back.”

My mouth drifts open and I stare at Trip’s inviting lips. He’s not at all like I expected. When I first laid eyes on him, I wanted him. But after I saw how our kiss meant nothing to him, I assumed he was just another lame asshole who only cared about getting some ass. This side of him though, is caring and helpful. It makes him even more appealing, which is a very bad thing. It’s wrong to want him, especially considering he’s helping me win back the affection of another man.

His eyes search my face, before he ultimately decides to release me. “It’s getting late. We’d better go inside so I can unpack and get a good night’s rest. We’ve got an old boyfriend jealous tomorrow, remember?”

I swallow hard and nod in agreement still looking into his eyes. “Sleeping with you would be good.” He laughs and I quickly throw my hand over my mouth. I immediately try to correct my mistake. “I mean, sleeping would be good.” This only makes him laugh harder and I let out a frustrated breath. “Stop. You know what I meant.”

I want to shove my head in a pile of desert sand.

“I think it was a subconscious slip,” he says, adjusting his hat and winking at me before he opens his door to get out.

I trail behind him after I shut the car door behind me. “It was not.”

He steps up onto the porch and leans against the house right by the door. I feel his heated gaze on me while I fish the keys from my pocket. “Keep telling yourself that, sweetness. It’s okay to admit you’d like to fuck me, because I think it’s pretty clear I’d like the same thing. It’s too bad we can’t now that we’re co-workers and co-conspirators. I’m pretty sure that’d be bad for business.”

“Shhhh,” I scold him. “My dad might hear you.” I growl when the second key I try in the lock doesn’t work. “Come on.”

Trip leans down and whispers in my ear, “I know just the thing to relieve that tension.”

I lift my shoulder, trying to shove him out of my ear as I allow the door to fly open. “Yes.”

He chuckles as he follows me inside. “That was pretty enthusiastic. I can only imagine what that would sound like when you’re—”

The lights flip on in the foyer and Trip quickly closes his mouth, while my cheeks burn even hotter. No one wants their parents to hear a conversation like that.

Dad tightens his paper-thin blue robe around his small waist and glances up at the clock above our heads. “I wondered when you two would get back. Dinner’s in the refrigerator if you’re hungry.”

Guilt pours over me. “Sorry, Dad. I should’ve check with you before I agreed to go out to eat with Trip. We should’ve invited you.”

He rubs his eyes. “It’s okay. I was really tired anyhow. Well, now that I know you’re home safe, I’m heading back to bed.”

“Are you still feeling sick?” I ask, completely concerned.

His weight-loss and coupled with how exhausted he’s felt lately has me a bit worried. Dad’s always on the go. The idea that he’s in bed so early, so often, is odd for him. He typically has more energy than I do.

He nods. “A little. I hope a few more days of hitting the sack early will perk me up out of this funk I’ve been fighting these last couple of months.”

“I think it’s time you make a doctors appointment. You’ve felt like this for way too long.” We’ve been over this before, and I hate to push the subject, but I’m worried.

“I can’t, Holly. They’ll want to do all sorts of tests we can’t afford. If it gets too bad, I’ll go. I promise.” Dad offers a small hint of a smile. “Well, goodnight, kids. I’ll see you both down at the office bright and early. Trip, we’ll get you out on the track tomorrow so you can check it.”

Trip nods and smiles. “Sounds good.”

Dad turns and shuts himself back in his bedroom and I stare at the door. Whatever is going on with him, I don’t like it.

I turn towards Trip. “Do you have bags in your car that need to be carried up?”

“I have a duffel bag.”

“That’s it for an entire month?”

He shrugs. “I’m used to being on the road a lot. Packing light becomes second nature when you get tired of carrying around a ton of shit. Besides, I figured wherever I stayed would have a washer and dryer. It’s not like I’ll run around like a homeless bum.”

That makes me curious about him and his money-bags boss. Is he looking at another track, too? Do we have competition on this deal? “You check out a lot of tracks for this investor?”

“This is the first one, actually.”

I raise an eyebrow. “So, what else do you check out for him? I know cattle farmers can’t possibly travel that much. Who would feed the livestock?”

Trip scratches the back of his head, almost like he’s nervous and it takes him a while to answer me. “I’m not actually a cow farmer.”

I smile. “I never believed for a second you were. What is it that you actually do?”