Should’ve found someone while I was in Soldana. That would’ve taken the edge off. AlthoughwhenI would’ve done that, I’m not sure. From the moment I saw him in the saloon, the vast majority, if notall, of my thoughts and my time have been taken up by Cypress. And that is unlikely to change in the immediate future if he keeps…
He takes another sip of his coffee, watches me track the swallow right down to the couple open buttons at the top of his shirt where some of his chest is exposed.
“Am I going to have to spray you two with water?”
Both Cypress and I turn our heads to Dolly. “What?” I ask first, catching Cypress brushing a few drops of coffee off his shirt out of the corner of my eye. Serves him right…and maybe he’ll have to change again now.
No, thinking about that is not helping.
“Lord help me,” Dolly snaps, getting up from her chair and pointing a finger my way. “You go anywhere looking at him like that and you’re going to be fined for public indecency. And you…” She turns her finger on Cypress. “Stop tormenting him until he figures out how to do it back.” She switches again to me. “Aiden, you’re still welcome to my books.”
“Why does everyone think—Iknowhow to do it back,” I argue, feeling my face heat.
“He certainly does,” Cypress says around a chuckle.
In response, Dolly gives an exasperated sigh. “Well, I’m happy to hear that’s not the problem, but since I can barely hear myself think in here with you two panting at each other, should I lock you both in a room until you figure out what is?”
“Aiden? Thoughts?” Cypress turns to me, a perfectly polite expression on his face as if it’s completely normal for a woman old enough to be our mother implying we should fuck some sense into ourselves.
“Confinement won’t be necessary,” I assure them. “Unless it’s what’s needed to come up with a serious plan.”
“A plan?” Dolly repeats, glancing at Cypress, who for some irritating reason only shrugs.
“You’re the one who said running isn’t a strategy,” I remind him.
“Did I?” he says, sounding contemplative. “Hard to recall. Been so long.”
“It was two days ago.”
“Was probably sharper then.”
I put my head in my hands, praying for patience before I say, “Cy, we need a plan. We’ve got our friend from last night out there somewhere, along withhisfriends,andwe’ve got Maddock looking for us.”
“Speaking of which…” Dolly says, bringing herself back into the conversation. “While you two boys were sleeping in this morning, or”—she glances between us—“whateverit is you were doing, I went into town.” Her gaze focuses on Cypress. “Got a telegram back from the friend I was waiting on. She said rumor is Maddock’s mama and daddy cut him off.”
Cypress and I exchange a look. “They did what?” I ask.
“They cut him off. Reached their limit from the sounds of it and disinherited him after the mess in Soldana. Now everything will go to his younger brother. I’ll bet the reward they’re offering onthose posters is more than he even has left.”
“Maddock has a younger brother?” I try to think if he ever mentioned a sibling, although it’s not as if we spent a lot of time chatting. “How old?”
“No more than four by the sounds of it,” Dolly replies. “Must have made a backup when their firstborn started proving rotten.” She catches my expression and gives me a sympathetic smile. “Might sound harsh but that’s the way some of them think. Babies are part of business.”
I frown, though I suppose she’s right, then look to Cypress who is watching me with interest. “What?”
“Do you…” he starts, setting his mug down before folding his hands in front of him. “Do you want children?”
“Oh for God’s sake,” Dolly says, taking the words right out of my mouth.
“You said we were supposed to be planning,” Cypress mutters, picking his mug back up and taking a sip, sulking. “We can talk about it later.”
“Getting quite a list, aren’t you?” I ask, choosing to focus on the part of me that was caught off guard by the question rather than the part that would like to know his answer. “Of things to address later?”
“Growing by the minute,” he replies with a wink.
“All right,” Dolly says. “The both of you, out.” She starts shooing Cypress and me from our chairs and toward the back door, apparently not even wanting to risk taking us through the house to the front.
“Go cool off. Go for a ride. Go for each other,” she recommends, resorting to her cane when we don’t move fast enough. “I don’t care, so long as I’m able to walk around without tripping over one of your libidos.”