Page 69
"Don't be so modest, Lainey," he says, with a bit of pride in his eyes.
So I let my guard down further and explain the business I built from nothing. Then I tell him about the cold laser therapy, the stretching protocols. I mention Two-Step's already bearing weight more evenly than he was this morning, and how Renegade's going to need months of careful, unglamorous work before he's anywhere close to racing again.
Jagger listens like every word matters, asking questions in the right places. And it's easier to talk about horses instead of everything else sitting unresolved between us.
Eventually the conversation drifts back to Charlie. I gather the courage to ask the question that's been sitting under my ribs since I walked through his front door. "How's this going to work? All of it. You, me, her."
He goes quiet, studying me long enough that heat crawls up my neck under the weight of it. When he finally answers, it isn't the answer I expect at all.
"I think we need to go on a proper date."
Immediate, traitorous butterflies flutter hard in my stomach. "What?"
"You heard me, Lainey." His mouth curves, slow and warm. "And it's not even about Charlie, though it does give you more incentive to say yes." He wiggles his eyebrows, and it startles a laugh right out of me despite everything.
"You're ridiculous."
"I'm persistent. There's a difference." He watches me, waiting, something hopeful under the teasing. It's the same determined gaze he set on me at the Red Dirt. "Well?"
"A date," I repeat, like saying it slower might make it make more sense. "Jagger, we have a baby together. We haven't even figured out what we're telling your family tomorrow, and you want to take me on a date?"
"Yep. And I want a lot of things I probably shouldn't want this fast. But mostly I want the chance to date you the way I should've when we first met. And if I'd had half of your brain, I would have realized all this the minute I met you," he states.
I gape at him.
He pushes, "One dinner. No diaper bag, no chaos, just you and me figuring out if what I felt on that dance floor was as real as I've spent a year convincing myself it was."
"What if it's not?" I blurt out. More heat floods my cheeks.
"Not possible," he states. "So say yes."
Before I can stop myself, I agree, "Okay. One date."
He pumps his arm in the air.
I laugh.
His face falls. "For what it's worth, I don't want either of you to go anywhere tonight. Can I convince you to stay?"
My heart twists, warm and terrified at once. It would be so easy to say yes, but instead, I state, "Mama's going to come over here screaming loud enough the whole ranch will hear it if we don't head back soon."
His jaw twitches. "Is your mama going to hate me forever?"
I arch my eyebrows. "Hopefully not."
He groans, low and defeated, and presses a kiss to the top of Charlie's head, gentle enough that she doesn't stir. "Alright. Let's get you home." He rises, kisses Charlie again, and reluctantly helps me get her back into the sling, grabs the diaper bag, and guides me out of the house.
The walk back to the Butterfly House happens slower than it needs to. We stay silent, and Jagger keeps Charlie and me tucked close against his side the same way he did on the way over, but everything is more relaxed than before.
I steal a glance at him halfway down the path. His profile's lit gold from the porch lights ahead. Charlie's diaper bag is slung over one shoulder like he's been carrying it his whole life.
My heart once again aches with how easy this feels when it has no business feeling easy at all. I convinced myself I didn't need him, and one evening on his couch has already destroyed the careful architecture I built.
I don't know what to do with how uncomfortable it makes me feel. And I also feel relief, but I'm not willing to dissect it this soon.
Mama's waiting up when I walk through the door, arms crossed, eyes sharp despite the late hour. I can already see the questions stacking up behind her lips before I've even gotten my boots off.
"Lainey Marie, you'd better start explaining—"
