“No, Sam.” “Maybe we should have driven into Fort Worth for the night. It’s still not too late. We could—” “Sam?” “Huh?” “Put a cork in it.” Roni stepped out of her wedding pumps and pressed her aching arches to the cool kitchen floor with a soft sigh of relief. Outside, the crickets sang their night song in the sweet spring grass. “We agreed it was better to come home. She’s absolutely worn-out.” “Yeah.” Sam cuddled a drooping Jessie against his shoulder, ignoring the damp circle her drool made on his shirt. He’d discarded his jacket and tie long before, and his sun-streaked hair had returned to its usual finger-ruffled disorder. Lifting a hand, he rubbed his thumb over Roni’s cheekbone. “She’s not the only one who looks tuckered out.” Roni froze under his unexpected caress, and her stomach flipped over. She forced a breathy laugh. “It’s not nice to call your wife a hag.” Sam’s eyes darkened to the deep blue of a mountain lake. “You’re beautiful.
What do You think about The Rancher And The Redhead?
