I smiled. “Ultra-relaxing aura, eh? And here I thought my boyfriend was a cowboy, not a hippie.”
“Cowboy’s in my blood, but my heart’s all hippie.” He kissed the back of my neck, right at my hairline, and wrapped his arms around me. “I love you. I’m here for you tonight. We’re all here for you tonight. Everything will be all right. And if it isn’t, I’ll fix it. Okay?”
I nodded and tilted my head toward his. “Okay.”
“Whatever happens tonight, it won’t change us, Rowen. It won’t change the way I feel about you.” He planted a soft kiss on my mouth. I was already more relaxed. Then he moved in for another one; that one wasn’t as soft or short.
What had I just been worried about?
“All right, you two. Rowen’s mom will be here any second, and I don’t want her to walk into the place and see you two lip-locked.” Rose grabbed the fruit bowl and attempted to give us both a maternal warning look. It didn’t really work because she capped her warning with a smile. “Let’s give her a few minutes before we tell her about you two. I don’t want her thinking the only thing you’ve been doing all summer is my son.”
Jesse coughed. My eyes bugged out.
Rose inspected our reaction for one moment before it clicked. She flushed and suddenly couldn’t make eye contact with either of us. “That came out wrong. All wrong.”
“You think, Mom?” Jesse teased, his voice a couple notes high.
She swatted his arm affectionately as she headed for the table. “You know what I meant.”
“I know what you meant, but you might not want to repeat those exact words when Rowen mom’s here,” Jesse said. “You know. In case she takes it the wrong way.”
“Since you’re so eager to hang out in the kitchen, why don’t you go mash those potatoes?” Rose settled the fruit salad on the table, then stood back to inspect the table. She’d really gone all out.
She’d cut a few mini-bouquets of flowers from her garden and arranged them in mason jars. She’d set out the country rose china set passed down from her mom and she had polished up the silverware set, too. We’d spent a good half of the day making dinner. After making a dinner of cold meatloaf sandwiches and potato salad for the guys and dropping it off at the bunkhouse, we’d slaved away making pie pastry, picking green beans, and peeling, coring, and slicing apples. The menu was simple country fare, but it had been created in the Walker kitchen, so it would be delicious, too.
“I love this new dress,” Jesse said, running his eyes down my body as he wandered over to the pot of potatoes. “Like really love it.” The inflection in his voice almost made me shiver in anticipation. How many hours until bedtime?
“I might have had a little help picking it out.” I shot him a smile as I went to the fridge to pull out some milk and butter. “I love that shirt of yours, too. Like really love it.”
Jesse lifted his arms and did a spin. “I might have had a little help picking it out.”
We’d gone into “town” shopping yesterday, and instead of picking out our own outfits, we decided to pick out each other’s. Since Jesse lived in his white tees, I found a plaid button-down shirt with those pearly looking snaps. I got it one size smaller than he typically wore for the added eye candy. I didn’t bother with picking out pants because Jesse’s everyday jeans could not be improved upon. That was a fact of life I’d come to accept. Add his boots, straw hat, and belt, and BOOM! He was every girl’s dream.
Once I’d grabbed the butter and milk, I headed over to where he was mashing away.
While I poured in the milk and dropped the stick of butter into the pot, he said, “No offense, Rowen, because this is one nice shirt, but I win in the picking clothes out for each other department. That dress is . . .” When Jesse’s eyes traveled back to me, his mashing came to a stop. The corners of his mouth lifted as he skimmed my body. “Well, that dress is something else. Something. Else.”
I glanced over at Rose before sneaking a quick kiss on his cheek. “You really do know how to pick out a dress. But don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone.”
“Thanks.” He laughed as he got back to mashing. “My reputation as the strapping, manly cowboy that I am would be forever tarnished.”
Jesse’s selection had surprised me. Although maybe it shouldn’t have. Instead of wandering the racks of one of the clothing stores specializing in western wear, Jesse had wandered into a funky consignment store. He claimed he got a contact high after being in there for only a half hour. He sifted through every last rack in the place before he found my dress. The dress.
It was a burgundy, no-frills dress that didn’t scream Look at me! Look at me! It was eery how Jesse had managed to find quite possibly the only dress in the history of dresses to blend both that punk, dark style I’d shown up in Willows Springs wearing with country flair. The dress was a little bipolar in the style department, but it worked.
I was pulling the salt down from the spice cabinet when the doorbell rang. I froze.
“They’re here!” Clementine announced from the living room.
Rose pulled her apron off. “Ready?” she asked, wrapping her arm around me like she knew I needed the support.
Would it matter if I answered honestly? I just nodded my head.
Jesse grabbed a towel to wipe his hands, but Rose put the masher he’d abandoned back in his hands. “Get those potatoes on the table,” she said. “Rowen and I can manage to open the door and escort a couple of guests inside the house by ourselves, I think.”