AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"Keep it up, Jules, and you'll see just how sunny I can be." The challenge in my voice is light, but honest.
"Promise?" There's a playful lilt to her words, and something more—a subtle invitation.
"Promise." I hold her gaze. We've both been through our fair share of storms, but right now, it feels like we might just be each other's break in the clouds. “However, we do need to find out how and why our mothers set up whatever they did. They went to extreme lengths. Don’t you think?”
“Yeah, they sure thought this one through. We’ll have to talk to them.”
On the ride back, it’s comfortable silence, the only sounds are the rhythmic clopping of our horses’ hooves until Julia says, "You know, I don’t think anyone has ever asked me directly the deep questions like you did today." She looks my direction, offering me a small smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Feels good to say it out loud. Thanks."
"Anytime, Jules." I truly do mean it. "And for what it’s worth, I think you’ve got great judgment."
Her laughter rings out, clear and bright. “Yeah, you say that to the woman who stayed at a house in the middle of nowhere, in the dead of night, with a man she didn’t know from Adam. Great judgment, huh?” She continues to chuckle, and just like that, the moment is lighter, easier.
"Almost there," I call out as the barn comes into view, the old wood standing strong against the Texas sky.
"Already?" She sounds disappointed, a small frown tugging at her lips.
"Time flies when you're having fun," I reply with a chuckle, guiding my horse, so Daisy will follow, toward the barn with a gentle nudge of my heels.
Dismounting with ease, I turn to help Julia. She swings one leg over, hesitating for just a split second before reaching out to me. Our hands connect, and that's when it happens—she slides down, and we collide, her body pressed against mine. Her green eyes widen with surprise, mirroring the sudden rush of heat coursing through me.
"Sorry..." she mumbles, her breath hitching.
"Don't be," I say, my voice low, the words barely more than a whisper.
I can feel her heart racing against my chest, her soft curves melding into my frame like two pieces of a puzzle long separated. And then, without thinking, without planning, I dip my head down and capture her lips with mine.
It's a tender kiss, cautious at first, but it doesn't take long for caution to give way to something deeper, something urgent. Her fingers curl into the fabric of my shirt, pulling me closer, and I oblige without hesitation. We're lost in the moment, in the sweet taste of new beginnings, and it feels like coming home.
When we finally pull apart, our foreheads rest together, and I can't help but smile once more.
"Sunshine enough for you?" I tease, my voice husky with emotion.
"More than enough," she breathes out, her eyes shining with something that looks a lot like hope.
Chapter 8
Julia
The click of my laptop's keys feels foreign after a day spent on horseback. The scent of leather and dust still lingers on me, a stark contrast to the digital world I'm now re-immersing myself in. My inbox is overflowing, each email a tiny assault on the peaceful bubble that Ryan and I had created out there among his Texas spread.
I stretch my shoulders, rolling the tension away, and glance out the window. The sun is low, casting long shadows over the ranch. It's serene and tranquil, yet here I am, contemplating the chaos of an early departure.
"Work trip," I mutter to myself, scolding the screen. Was it really about work anymore? The lines have blurred, smudged by laughter, stolen kisses, and the warmth of Ryan's hands on my body.
I open a spreadsheet, numbers and projections staring back at me coldly. My finger hovers over the trackpad, unmoving. A sigh escapes me.
"Jules, you're not just a walking business plan," I whisper, trying to remind myself there's more to life than profit margins and market shares.
But fear gnaws at me. The fear of slipping, of losing the delicate balance I've maintained between success and the ever-present specter of financial instability. Providing for Mom, never wanting to return to those days of uncertainty, it's what drives me. It's also what traps me.
"Should I stay?" The question hangs in the air, unanswered. Ryan's house feels both like a safe harbor and a siren's call. He's offered something I didn't know I craved—sunshine to my grumpy, laughter to my seriousness.
"Consequences..." I type into a blank document, then list the potential impacts on my business if I extend my stay. Each bullet point feels like a weight added to an already heavy scale.
"Is this just another calculated risk?" I ponder aloud, staring at the list. It's what I do; I weigh risks for a living. But something about this feels different, less about logic and more about longing.
"Can I afford this detour?" Not in terms of money, but in the currency of time, emotion, vulnerability. My heart, usually so well-guarded behind ledgers and contracts, has somehow found itself on the bargaining table.
