The Cowboy's Twin Surprise

“Nothing?”

Was she referring to herself or what they once had together?

“Nothing work-related.” He tried again to express himself. “I’m good at this, Frankie. Just like you’re good at cooking. And I’m convinced I can make a decent living. Also like you. We aren’t that different.”

“Why did you come back?” She not only returned her attention to him, she stared intently.

“To see you. Now that I finally have something to offer. I’m hoping you’ll...reconsider. Give me another chance.”

“You hurt me, Spence. A lot. You know I wanted to get married eventually and have a family. Yet you left. Again. I got the message loud and clear. You weren’t ready.”

He blew out a long, resigned breath. “I can’t tell you how many regrets I have.”

“I’m not sure I can trust you.”

“I’ve changed. I swear.” Even as the words left his mouth, he realized he’d said them before. “This time, it’s true.”

She hesitated. Well, at least she wasn’t telling him to get the hell out of Mustang Valley and never come back.

“I need time,” she finally said. “To think.”

“Sure. Sure.”

“I’m not the same person, either. A lot’s different.”

“I want to hear all about it.”

“Give me until tomorrow.” Though they weren’t quite done eating, she began putting food away. “Meet me at the café. Ten thirty sharp. We can talk before my shift starts at noon.”

“Okay.”

“Don’t be late,” she added.

He chuckled. “What? Is this a test?”

“As a matter of fact, it is.” She abruptly stood and sent him a look that left no doubt.

Chapter Three (#uead4fa66-b991-5a78-9c2e-25a73000103a)

Frankie sat at a booth in the café, waiting for Spence and staring at her phone. Swiping her finger across the screen, she read and reread the terms of her equity crowd-funding campaign. What had struck her as simple and straightforward when she started her campaign now appeared confusing.

Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined someone donating a thousand dollars, much less ten thousand. If she upheld the terms of her campaign, and accepted Spence’s money, he’d own 10 percent of her company. A company that, without him, was no more than a glorified hobby.

The thought staggered her. And scared her.

On the one hand, Spence offered her the chance to realize her long-held hope of owning her own business. On the other hand, the offer came with strings. Lots of them.

Groaning softly, she set her phone down, angry at herself for stalling. The big issue wasn’t her crowd-funding, it was telling—or not telling—Spence about their daughters, Paige and Sienna.

“You want a refill?”

Frankie glanced up to find her coworker brandishing a pot of coffee.

“I’m good. Thanks.”

She was already unnerved at the prospect of seeing Spence for the second time in less than twenty-four hours. More coffee would literally give her the shakes.

“I was going to ask you,” the young woman said, leaning closer. “Would it be all right if I took tomorrow off? I know it’s late notice, but Shelly Anne said she would swap days with me.”

Frankie shrugged. “I’m okay with it, but you’d better talk to Antonio. He has the final say.” She barely hid her frustration.

“Yeah. Hmm.” The young woman frowned. “What do you make of him?”

“He seems nice enough. I only spent about an hour with him. We’re supposed to work together on the inventory this afternoon.”

“He has no experience. You should have gotten the job,” the woman added in a hushed voice.

Frankie glanced at the pass-through window, where the top halves of Cook and Antonio could be seen, the two of them moving back and forth in front of the grill. Tia Maria had decided her nephew should train with Cook today, learning the ins and outs of how the kitchen functioned.

“It is what it is,” Frankie said. “But I appreciate the support.”

“What are you going to do?”

She thought again of Spence, her crowd-funding campaign and breaking the news to him that he was a father. “I’m not sure. Maybe nothing. Maybe surprise everyone.”

A customer two booths over hailed the waitress. She lightly touched Frankie’s shoulder before murmuring, “See you later,” and hurrying away.

Frankie closed the open web page on her phone, simultaneously checking the time. Ten fifteen. She’d warned Spence not to be late. Would he take her seriously or, as usual, come dragging in when he felt like it?

She swore she could feel the stares of half the café’s customers boring into her. They’d probably heard Spence was back in town. Also that Tia Maria had hired her nephew. The customers no doubt wondered what she was doing here, sitting in a booth rather than waiting on them. Who came to their place of employment during their time off?

Someone preferring neutral territory to converse with the man who’d shaped her entire past and could conceivably alter her entire future.

“Hey, there, Frankie.”

Another interruption. This time from one of her sister Mel’s veterinarian clients.

“Hi. How you doing?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” The trim and athletic senior woman didn’t wait for an invitation and slipped into the booth across from Frankie. “I saw Spence this morning. He was at Powell Ranch. Did you know he’s back in town?”

“Yes.” She refused to say more.

“I overheard him chatting with the Powells about boarding a couple of horses.”

“Really?” Frankie didn’t let on he’d already told her this.

“He must be staying in town, then.”