After an hour, it’s time to call it quits and get them ready for parent pickup. The day went just as planned, and I think we got a lot accomplished.
“The kids looked like they were having fun,” my mom says once the room is clear.
“They did. I’m surprised by how fast they’ve caught on. Can’t wait for our first show,” I say excitedly.
She grins. “I can’t either. It’s gonna be adorable. Ya know your grandma has already told her quilt club about it. They each requested personal invitations.”
I snort-laugh. “Of course.”
Lacey comes over after the last student leaves. “Phew. I’m too young to be this tired.”
Mom chuckles. “Just wait until you’re my age. It gets worse.”
Lacey places her hand on her forehead, being overly dramatic. “Say it ain’t so, Mrs. Bishop.” She gives me a wink. “Can’t wait to do it all over again tomorrow.”
“Agreed! Hopefully, we’ll get through teaching them the middle part of the first song,” I say.
“Oh, we will!” she encourages before telling us goodbye.
Mom and I grab our bags, lock up, then head to our vehicles.
“Guess we can say the first day of school was successful?”
She climbs inside her Suburban. “Absolutely, honey. I think it’ll be a memorable year.”
“Me too. But aren’t they all?” I muse.
She gives me a nod and a wave. As she drives away, I turn and look at the sun lying lazily in the distance. A smile touches my lips. I may be single as hell and still live at home with my parents, but I have a lot to be grateful for—my job being one of them.
Chapter Eight
GRAYSON
Another lonely Friday night awaits me when I get off work. As I eat breakfast with the other ranch hands, Diesel and Riley mention meeting at the bar tonight since Rowan’s covering for Kenzie.
“Wait, why?” I ask, knowing Kenzie only bartends when they’re short-staffed. More people were hired once she and Ethan got busy building their careers. During their college breaks, they’d worked there to make extra cash. Since Rowan manages the bar, she only begs them to cover when it’s an absolute emergency.
“Kenzie’s sick,” Riley answers. “She was picking up a shift for someone who has the flu but then got it too.”
Though I’m supposed to be retaliating, I’m also thinking of using this opportunity to bring her soup. Underneath all the pranks and snarky comebacks, there’s an underlying sexual tension between us that she can’t deny.
“So you wanna meet us there?” Diesel asks.
“Uh, maybe. I’ll let ya know later,” I tell him.
I clear my plate, then go back to the barn so I can finish early. Diesel gives me the go-ahead once my afternoon duties are completed. I make my way to the B&B to grab some of Maize’s chicken noodle soup to-go. It’s so good, I grab an extra one for myself.
As soon as I’m in my truck, I drive to Kenzie’s, anticipating she’ll slam the door in my face or toss the hot food right at me. Even though she’s ill, I wouldn’t put either scenario past her.
I hold the bowl in one hand and knock with the other. When she answers, I take in her appearance and hate that she’s not feeling well. She’s wrapped in a blanket, her hair is in a messy bun, her cute nose is red, and her cheeks are pale. When I gaze down at her body, I smirk at her horse slippers.
“You come here to gawk at me looking miserable or what?”
Sick or not, Mackenzie Bishop will always have an attitude with me.
“Actually, I brought you soup.” I hold it out, and she looks at it as if I’m trying to hand her a ball of fire. Though I owe her for the latest stunt she pulled, I’d never mess with her food.
“Why?”
“Because I heard you were sick.”
“You poison it with laxatives or somethin’?”
“Jesus, I’m just tryin’ to be nice. Cut me some slack for once.”
She narrows her eyes, like she wants to say something, but doesn’t.
“Oh, Grayson.” Mrs. Bishop appears, and Kenzie’s shoulders slump at her mother’s kind voice. “How sweet of you to bring soup. Smells like Maize’s.” Mila grabs it and inhales with a smile.
“It is. Figured it’d make Kenzie feel better.”
“Aren’t you just the nicest?” She pats my cheek and smiles wide. “I’ll put this in a bowl for you, honey,” she tells Kenzie, then walks off.
I flash Kenzie a smug grin as she scowls. “Your mom loves me.”
“That’s because she doesn’t know the real you,” she grunts.
“The real me?” I nearly burst out laughing. “A Southern gentleman who works his ass off and is naturally charming?”
“The one who’s a liar,” she snaps.
“What’re you talkin’ about? When have I lied to you?” I cross my arms in frustration.
Her lips twitch as if she’s holding back again. Though I’m not sure why. She always tells it like it is, especially when it comes to me.