Page 72 of Winning His Wager
Abby watched Fletcher come in, look around, and go straight to her.
“You are glaring at Dylan again. Stop it,” a quiet voice said behind her. “Jealousy is really uncool.”
Abby turned. “Shut up and do the credit receipts, Caitlyn.”
“You aren’t my supervisor, Abby. You never have been. And I know you’ve been spreading those rumors about Dylan. It’s really not cool. Fletcher is in love with her, not you. She got him first. You probably should move on.”
Abby grabbed Caitlyn by the arm and squeezed. Until the younger woman yanked her arm back. Abby almost fell over.
“Keep your hands off me,” Caitlyn said, glaring. “If you don’t stop spreading rumors and saying nasty things about people that work here, I’m going to report you myself. Braelyn will just have to deal with it.”
“Stupid bitch.” Abby shifted to block her. Caitlyn was a few inches taller than she was, but she was skinny. And Abby was a hell of a lot more experienced dealing with stupid bitches like her. “You get in my way here, Cait, and I will make you pay for it.”
Caitlyn didn’t back away. “Seriously, Abby. Time to grow up.”
“Just stay out of my way.” Abby shouldered past the stupid bitch and bumped her on purpose. Caitlyn just stared at her. “Just because you are friends with a Talley doesn’t make you so special. Remember that.”
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Dylan was backon her feet again. She had even covered the front desk for four hours the night before. Whether her father liked it or not—she was goinghome.
With Fletcher.
This time, she had her boxes ready. Fletcher had had Ben help him carry them downstairs just that morning. She had discussed it with him.
They were going to change a few things at the Fletcher Habitat.
No more of this paying her to be his housekeeper. She was going to take care of him, he was going to take care of her, and together they were going to partner with Travis Worthington-Deane Enterprises and Lucas Tech and Barratt-Handley to develop some of the most sophisticated ranching and farming technology on the entire planet. Together.
And then, when the time was right, they were talking Fletcherlings.
Well, they hadn’t spoken aboutthatpart yet. But Dylan was going to see that it was a prominent topic of conversation a bit down the road. Because she was taking him up the offer he’d made her before—his firstborn. And all the rest. Cranky redheaded babies were so in her future. And she couldn’t wait.
“You are happy about something, baby,” a familiar voice said behind her.
“I am taking my boxes to Fletcher’s. I am going home, Mama. And this time…this time I am ready to unpack them.” No else would understand what she meant, but Fletcher would. And that mattered.
“He looks at you the way your father has always looked at me. That is all I really want for each of my girls. No matter what. I want you to be loved the way your father loves me.” Her mother hugged her gently. “The way that I have always loved him.”
“I didn’t realize it could feel like this. It’s like everything just makes perfect sense when I am with him.”
“Then be with him. Your father will get used to him in time. Probably about the moment the first grandbaby arrives. You will have such beautiful babies. I can just imagine all that curly hair.”
“You going to pester me about giving you grandchildren?”
“You’d better believe it.” Her mother was calmer now than Dylan had ever imagined her being. Aunt Rhea had talked her into trying an anti-anxiety medicine as well as behavioral therapy. It gave Dylan hope that her mother would one day be better able to face life than she had been during Dylan’s childhood. That her mother could fully enjoy being the grandma she would be one day. And her mother had all of her daughters now. The potential for lots of grandchildren seriously existed now.
Dylan could not imagine the kind of pain her mother had endured. She just couldn’t. “I love you, Mama. Always.”
“You, my baby girl, have given me back my heart. Don’t ever forget that. And I think Fletcher Tyler may have given you back your joy. And that makes me happy. Go. He just walked in the door. Behind your father. I think the two of them are bickering again. Should we let them continue?”
“Maybe for just a minute. It’s good for them, I think. Keeps them from getting too big for their britches, like Grandma says.” She put her boxes on the floor next to the front desk. Then she was going to him. Fletcher scooped her up until her feet dangled off the floor. “Hey, cowboy. As soon as we eat dinner, I’m ready to go home.”
Her father scowled at the words, but Fletcher pulled her closer and kissed her. He pulled back, lowered her to her feet. “I like the sound of that. I can’t wait to take you home.”
Heknew what that word really meant to her. And that made all the difference.
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