Cindy Kirk - Betting On The Maverick

Natalie inclined her head. “Are you really going to stay out there with my brother?”

“It’s my home,” Margot insisted. “If anyone should leave, it should be him.”

“You could move back in with us,” Laura told her son and hope flared in Margot’s green eyes.

“That isn’t feasible.” Brad forced a reasonable tone. “Not with winter around the corner. I need to be there to see to things.”

“You could drive over every day.” Margot’s voice took on a hint of desperation. “It’s not all that far.”

Brad knew that he had to put a stop to this kind of thinking right away. Before his mother or—God forbid—his dad jumped on that bandwagon.

“You’re a Montana girl,” Brad said with feigned nonchalance. “You know what the winters can be like. Ten miles away might as well be across the continent when drifts close the road. If anyone should live somewhere else, it should be you.”

From the way her eyes flashed and that stubborn chin tilted, it was exactly the wrong thing to say.

“I’m not moving out.”

“Well, neither am I,” Brad shot back.

Natalie grinned, bent over to kiss her mother’s cheek. “I’m almost sorry I have to leave. This is getting interesting.”

Brad scowled.

Natalie laughed and wiggled her fingers. “Ciao.”

The four sat there in silence while the door slammed shut.

“I’m thinking it might be nice to have a second glass of wine,” Laura offered finally.

On this point, it seemed, everyone could agree.

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