“We’ll see,” he teases.
Guests spot the cookies, and they take them by the handfuls. Everyone is all smiles, and I wonder if Mama made special cookies by how happy they are eating them.
“I’m going home, I guess. Oh, Mama’s making chili. Be there at six. Let Jackson know too,” I tell John. He gives me a nod before Dylan and I head out. We ride in silence across the property. Once we get to my house, we run inside and kick off our boots.
I walk to the kitchen and make myself and Dylan a turkey sandwich because we didn’t get a chance to eat. “You can borrow some of my clothes if you want so you don’t have to sit around in those nasty wet ones. I’m going to shower,” I tell Dylan once I finish eating.
As I walk away, I catch him grabbing a beer from the fridge and realize he wasn’t kidding
