Page 90 of Chasing Home
“Tracker?” I bend to get a closer look at the dog without being able to squat. The dog’s tail swats the air and thumps against the floor. With a quick look around the entrance, I ask, “Are you the family member I was supposed to meet today?”
“Don’t tell me you had the poor girl stressed about meeting family this morning, Jonathan,” Eliza scolds, patting her thigh to call Tracker over.
He—I looked this time—abandons me just like that, and I straighten instantly, pulling in a breath.
Johnny smirks. “She never asked me to clarify.”
“I didn’t know you had a dog,” I tell him.
“He spends most of his time at the ranch, keeping guard. Like he was last night.”
“He’s sweet.”
It’s an understatement. The brown, white, and black dog rolls over onto its back in front of Wade in a silent demand for belly rubs, its tongue flopping onto the floor. Wade rolls his eyes and leaves him lying there before Johnny drops to his haunches and rubs his belly.
Eliza turns to me, blocking everyone else out. “Cream?”
“Yes, please.”
“Start dishing up breakfast, Johnny. You and Wade can chat while I take care of my girl.” She doesn’t wait for a response before giving me a gentle tug and helping me waddle back to the bathroom.
This time, not only do I know where I’m going, but I feel different. The feelings swimming inside of me are responsible for that. As are the two people that just arrived.
I feel comfortable. Taken care of. It’s jarring, but as Eliza takes hold of my arm and steps with me into the bathroom, I accept it all without fear.
30
JOHNNY
Aurora’s laugh fills my kitchen, and I feel like the luckiest man alive. She glances around the table with a soft, genuine smile and stabs the prongs of her fork through a piece of pancake before running it through a river of syrup.
Eliza sits on her opposite side, finally joining us at the table after ushering in and plating up for the two loiterers, Thomas and Loren, as they appeared at my door like hounds with the scent of food in their noses.
My four-seater table isn’t enough room for everyone, so the two of them have made home on the couch, their boots lined up nice and neat in the entry. Four cowboy hats rest on the counter, Eliza having threatened us with a swift kick in the ass if we didn’t take them off to eat.
“How come you make pancakes for Aurora and not us?” Thomas asks Eliza, his cheeks stuffed full. “They’re damn good.”
“Because you don’t care what it is that goes into your mouth as long as you’re fed. Now, don’t complain, or you can eat with the horses from here on out. Be like Loren and eat in silence.”
“Jesus, woman. You’re goin’ to scare off my employees. This is because of those women of yours,” Wade mutters between bites of extra-crispy bacon.
“Don’t speak about my friends in that tone, Wade. One of those women is your future granddaughter-in-law, in case you forgot.”
“As if Brody’d ever let me,” he grumbles.
Aurora reaches for the pitcher of orange juice, but I beat her to it and fill her glass. She blushes, and I have to clench my fingers around the pitcher’s handle as I set it back down to keep from reaching out to feel her pink cheeks.
“Loren’s only silent because he doesn’t know how to make conversation with anyone. He’s been stuck in the bull pen for too long,” Thomas says.
I glance behind me at the two of them and catch Loren’s eye roll. “You’re an ass, Tommy. Watch your back, or he’s going to be shoving you in with ’em instead.”
“I’m too good-looking to risk winding up in there,” Thomas says, food muffling his words.
“You saying I’m ugly?” Loren asks, the first words he’s uttered since getting here.
It’s not unusual for him to be so quiet. He’s always been the silent, broody type. Women love it, from what I’ve seen at Peakside. I’ve yet to be able to crack him the way I’ve done everyone else.
“Your words, not mine.”