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Jodie almost tripped, laughing. “He’s such a wuss.”
“Girl, he’d run the place into the ground without you.”
Jodie grinned. It might sound like bragging, but it was true. Everyone at Watchdog—with the possible exception of Charlie, who was a self-sufficient badass and barely needed Jodie’s help—would all be lost without her.
“Then I’d better show up on Monday.”
“If you do, tell California I tried my best,” Arden said, using her pet name for Kyle. “Now stop changing the subject, and tell me who this guy is.”
“Weeell…Kyle’s out of luck if he wants a new bodyguard, because this guy already works there.”
Arden stopped dead. Camo did too, turning to see if his mama and her crazy friend were okay.
“He’s one of our guys?” A smile threatened to split her face in two. “Which one? Wait, let’s see, who’s still single?” She counted on her fingers. “Nolan, Hollis—”
“Mac. It was Mac.” Jodie covered her face.
“Mac! Oh, of course. He’s so sweet! He’s perfect for you—”
“We’re just friends, Arden.” Jodie dropped her hands and started walking again. “I was absolutely mortified.”
“Friends, huh?”
“Yup. He said so himself.” Jodie grimaced, remembering.
“Hmm.”
This time Jodie stopped. “What’s ‘hmm’ all about?”
“You might want to check again.” Arden kept walking.
Jodie caught up to her. “Why? What? What do you know that I don’t?”
“Nothing at all. Except what’s right in front of you.”
“Oh, come on. He said just friends.”
“Honey, they all say that when they’re afraid of getting shot down.”
“Well, he shouldn’t be. I invited him out for dinner.”
And I did not mean to confess that.
“Excellent!” Arden clapped her hands once. “I’m sure the two of you will clear things up then when you actually talk to each other.”
“Gah!” Jodie tagged her friend on the upper arm. “You are the worst.”
Camo raced ahead, stopped to investigate something fascinating in the tall, dry grass, then sprinted back toward them as if he’d remembered he was supposed to be supervising. Beyond the barn, several horses—some Arden’s, some boarding—grazed lazily in the afternoon sun. One lifted its head when they approached, watched them for a few seconds, then returned to the grass.
They reached a six-foot-high fence. Beyond it, the pasture smelled of dry grass, sun-warmed earth, and the pines that ringed the far edge. It reminded Jodie of home, of the ranch she grew up on in Montana. Nostalgia hit her.
“Did you know I did rodeo as a kid?”
Arden turned her head, a surprised smile blooming on her face. “Really?”
“Really,” Jodie continued. “I was the champion Mutton Buster at six.” She laughed. “Then I did a little barrel racing as a teenager. And I’ve broken a few bucks in my time. I wanted to go further, do the rodeo circuit, but my parents brought me back down to earth.” She shrugged as she pulled in a deep breath. The two women started walking along the fence, Jodie favoring her ankle. “They told me I needed to be practical. And I guess they were right. I wasn’t meant to be a rodeo star.”
Arden glanced at her. “You sound a little disappointed that you didn’t pursue it.”