steps than you’ll ever know.”
“Those sound like fighting words,” Boyd observed, leaning against the counter.
Cole stepped close and Katie-Lynn angled her face up to his, her chin jutting. “I don’t believe you.”
“Want to bet?” Katie-Lynn challenged, her cool, controlled mask slipping. Before him stood the competitive country girl who used to dare him to climb trees as high as her, race horses as fast, catch as many trout. And he’d lost almost as often as he’d won. Not that he’d cared. Then.
“You’re on,” he said, unable to resist her sparkling eyes.
“It’s a dance-off!” Sierra rubbed her hands together. “And I’ll be the judge. Cole, what are you betting?”
“If I win, Katie-Lynn finds another place to stay.”
Katie-Lynn’s head shake silenced his father’s and Sierra’s protests. “No need to worry. I’m not planning on losing.” Her nose flared, and her left eyebrow twitched up.
“What’ll you get if you win?” Sierra smacked Cole with a death-by-glare look.
“TBD,” Katie-Lynn announced, her radiant expression mischievous and daring. His breath caught at the glimpse of the gutsy girl he’d fallen for years ago. “Come on, Sierra. Show me some jeans. The real kind without a designer label.”
And with that, the two women disappeared up the stairs, leaving Cole to stare after them.
“What’s TBD mean?” his father asked.
TBD. To be determined. Which could mean anything. He had to win this dance-off and get the intriguing Katlynn Brennon as far from him as possible. She’d already messed with his head and his heart enough for one lifetime.
He hung his head and peered up at his pa.
“It means I’m a dang fool.”
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