Like now.
Sophie and I were going fishing. She’d been wanting to go ever since she learned I went once a week with the guests on the ranch. I’d never taken my daughter, and I planned to change that.
It was enough—Sophie and me. The two of us would always be enough. But lately I’d been thinking about that word, wondering why people thought that enough was sufficient. What was enough, anyway? A passable amount? Barely adequate. Sophie had what she needed. I would always make sure of that.
But now Sophie begs for Shelby whenever she’s not with us.
There is now a noticeable void in our lives whenever she’s not there. A black hole that would only get bigger when she left. The exact thing I had been trying to avoid at the beginning of the summer.
Shelby was excited to leave Eugene. Whether she got the photography job or not, it was the change she needed. To finally do something with her life she hadn’t been able to do. She needed to leave. To do this for herself. It wasn’t right for me to want her to stay when she’d been itching to leave.
I knew that. I respected that.
But how could Soph and I be expected to catch fish without Shelby there scaring them all away or bragging that she’d catch more than me? Fishing without her seemed ludicrous.
I usually knocked, but this time, I’d been too preoccupied with getting to her. I barged in to find her leaning over the small kitchen table, with photographs spread out all over the surface.
She startled at my entrance.
My mouth was open to say something until she began to gather up the pictures as fast as she could.
“What are you doing?” I strode closer, trying to see but really just enjoying the blush on her cheeks.
“Nothing! Go away.”
Suddenly, we were wrestling for them. The kind of wrestling where she was laughing and her hands were on my chest while she tried to push me away from the table. The kind where I hadto pick her up and throw her over my shoulder just to gently toss her onto the couch before I could run back to the table.
So, in other words, it was the good kind of wrestling.
At first, it was pictures of the ranch. A few of the mountains on some of our excursions with guests. For a moment, I was struck by a shot of a moose and her calf. And then an eagle. My eyes flitted to the next picture while my body became aware of Shelby moving next to me. There was one of me fly fishing in my cowboy hat and waders. Me feeding the horses. Telling stories around our campfire in the mountains with Tom and Carter, the orange glow from the campfire our only light source.
I’d forgotten she’d taken that.
I did a double-take as I caught sight of one picture of me, shirtless, brushing down Jimmy in the barn after a long ride.
I raised my brows and held up the picture.
“What kind of magazine are you applying for, Tuck? I don’t remember signing up to be anybody’s buckle bunny.”
She blushed hotly before trying to grab the picture out of my hand. I held it up, just out of her reach, enjoying her hands once again on my chest as she jumped, attempting to grab it.
“They told me to take pictures of the ranch, and it’s not my fault that there was nothing interesting going on that day.”
A broad grin overtook my face. “Looks like there was.”
I relented and allowed her to grab the picture before she tossed it back down on the table.
“You’re sending all these in?” I asked.
“I’m hoping to.” She bit her lip.
And I wondered for the millionth time how I was supposed to let her move to Boise while I was here in Eugene.
“Is that okay?” She looked at me. “To use those pictures? I should have asked.”
I feigned a sigh. “I didn’t know we’d need a clause like this in the contract. Shirtless is as far as I go, alright, Tuck? I don’t want to have to start charging.”
This time, her smile was shy, and the urge to kiss her became almost unbearable. She ducked her head and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, and I forced myself to look away.