Chapter 18

"God, Chey. This pie is delicious. Seriously." Kirsten leaned back in the chair, feeling like a python that had swallowed a giraffe. "I don't know what you do to those apples, but damn."

"It's magic." Chey smiled, the scar carved in her face pulling to make the expression crookedy. It was charming as fuck.

"It sure is." Skyla patted her belly. "I might explode. So yummy."

"No exploding. I'll send the rest of it home with y'all so you can have it for breakfast."

"Oh, that sounds so decadent."

"It will be. We have ice cream to go on it…" Kirsten waggled her eyebrows, teasing Skyla. She did love leftovers for breakfast. She knew that soon Skyla was going to have to get back to work, to the studio.

But not tomorrow.

"Yes, please."

"Oh, save us a piece, love," Evie said. "So we can do that too."

"I have another one made for us." Chey winked at Evie. "My wife loves pie for breakfast."

"I do." Evie smacked her lips. "I figure I work it off."

"I love your body." Cheyenne looked at Evie like she hung the moon. Every time.

Kirsten figured that she stared at Skyla like that. She had to wonder how Skyla wanted to see her. God knew, she wasn't sure she would ever be Skyla's one and only, but she was willing to try.

What she felt for Skyla ran so deep already.

"Y'all want to play a hand of cards?" Chey asked.

"What kind?" Skyla asked.

"Spades?"

"Oh, we're in." They got to play partners? Bonus!

They settled in to run a game of Spades, and an hour later, she and Skyla got to crow about clearing the table.

"Okay, okay." Evie was laughing hard. "I'm going to seem like a sore loser, but I'm going to have to go to bed soon. I have an early drop-off. Ladies, it's been a blast."

"Are you kicking us out?" Kirsten asked with mock dudgeon.

"Yes. Chey gets up at four, I get up at five, and you two are night owls. Shoo." Evie waved her hands, playfully. "Out."

"Let's go make music, honey," Skyla said, grabbing her hand as they stood.

That felt so warm, good, and right. Skyla was touching her more and more in all situations.

They wandered outside, and she helped Skyla through the snow. Evie had plowed the drive up to the ranch, so Kirsten didn't stress the drive. That was a nice damn touch, because man, that ranch road could be fierce.

"That was a hoot," Skyla said once her teeth stopped chattering, heater vents all turned her way.

"I like them a lot. I thought you would too."

"What happened to her—Cheyenne, I mean."

"She was a barrel racer. Her horse died on a turn and threw her into the rail."

Skyla gasped. "It did what?"

"True story. It was brutal."

"Jesus Christ, KK! What the fuck?"

Kirsten should never have told Skyla her middle name was Kathleen. "It was a freak accident. Just awful. Her momma's got all this money, and offered it to her if she'd leave Evie. Chey told her to fuck off."

"Holy shit." Skyla just stared at her. "That's a song right there."

"I know it. You know she left Evie once before, but not this time. She got stronger, after the healing happened."

"You don't even know how fucking amazing you are, do you?"

"What?" Kirsten blinked at the seeming change of subject.

"You accept your friends at face value. You believe in love even after what happened to your girl. You make stunning music. You're my fucking hero, Kirsten." Skyla's tone went fervent. "Not only that? Lyrics just fall out of your goddamn mouth. I'm so writing that down."

"Hush." Oh, Skyla made her stupid. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Skyla clutched her pie. "I should have put this in the backseat."

"You'll remember it." Skyla never forgot a lyric, even a nascent one.

"I so will. God, poor baby."

Kirsten shook her head. "She's happy—she's got a home, horses, a good business, and Evie. She's solid as a rock."

"They sure love each other. And I love their house. It's comfy." Skyla reached over with one hand to touch her leg. Nothing sexual. Just happy, she thought.

"Yeah. It's a little far out of town for me, but it's cozy. What do you see for yourself? Like what do you want for home?" She was desperately curious.

"Hmmm. Something not a bus." Skyla laughed. "I would love to buy your whole building."

"Oh, wouldn't that rock? I dread the day that my landlady sells. I love my apartment so much, and the basement apartment would make a perfect studio."

Skyla lit up. "Would it?"

"Yeah. Remind me to show you. It's empty right now. No one wants to be so damn cold. But with soundproofing and insulation…"

"Damn. That would be fine, to not have to rent studio space here when we're in town."

"Yeah. I love it and there's a door out to the side yard, which is so nice in the winter when you're downstairs." Kirsten let herself fantasize a little bit.

"And that would be great for Reba. And the cats, who could stay locked upstairs."

"Reba would be up and down the stairs like a fiend. Boom boom boom. Boom boom boom."

Skyla snorted. "She would. She's energetic. But she would love it."

"Are we fantasizing?" Was this real?

"We're making plans. Maybe some of them are pie in the sky, but that's okay. I love that."

"Okay. I just needed to know." She was weird that way, she guessed. She wasn't sure what that said about her, and she wasn't sure she cared.

"You okay with this?" Skyla tilted her head. "I mean, I'm just planning your life."

"Hey, I want—I'm into you. I just didn't want to be serious, and you were joking."

"No. I'm serious as a heart attack." That hand on her leg pressed, squeezing. "I want a life with you, crazy as it sounds for such short notice. But this feels right."

"I don't think you're crazy, honey. I think I'm in love with your fine ass." And that was that.

"Oh." Skyla grinned, and it was like the sunrise on Christmas. "I love you too, honey."

"I am not going to complain, that's for sure." She would have taken Skyla's hand, but it was a little slick, so she didn't dare.

"Don't you dare do that." That brassy, happy laugh just rang out.

"No. No, I like dreaming with you." She grinned, shook her head. "We'll need more room for your clothes."

"Oh, honey. I'll take an entire apartment downstairs…"

"Perfect. Do I get to help pick out your outfits sometimes?" Skyla had these stunning curves…

"Hell, yes. I hate doing all that. I mean, I love clothes, but the performance outfits can be so fraught." Skyla shook her head. "You could help with a lot."

"I can help with supporting you." She knew that she wasn't bringing the money, but she had a home and cats and care and a community.

"You can help by writing songs. Kissing me. Talking to me. Loving me."

Jesus. That squeezed her heart, and she nodded, trying not to look at Skyla instead of the road.

"You have my word, lady. I just want to be a part of your world—no matter what that means."

"Then we got this."

When she pulled in to park, Skyla leaned across the console to take a kiss, which was warm, sweet, and perfect.

"Welcome home," Kirsten whispered against her lips.

"Thank you, honey. I'm ready for it. I promise."

"Me too." She grabbed the pie. "Come on, let's walk Reba. She'll be ready."

"You got it, honey. Then we can have second dessert."

Oh, now, that was intriguing. She was in.