One moment, I thought I might finally breathe; maybe I was climbing out of the hole. Then, with a single email, the weight of my financial situation came crashing down again.
I leaned there a long moment, staring at the screen as if it might spell out an answer I couldn’t find. The shop was too quiet now; the wall clock ticked loudly enough to grate against my headache.
I told myself I’d go home, curl up with Sunny, and let the silence do its work. No men. No messy feelings. No more late-night door knocks that left me raw by morning.
But then I pictured Sawyer, the way he’d looked last night with that half-smile, like he wanted to devour me and run from me all at once. The thought sent a flush racing over my skin.
Before I knew it, I slipped the phone into my purse and reached for my keys. I wasn’t going to text him after all. I’d take Sunny home first, then just… drive by.
Maybe knock on his door.
Maybe not.
If I showed up, it would only be to talk—just to clear the air and figure out what this thing between us really was. Nothing more, nothing dangerous.
At least, that’s what I told myself as I shut off the lights, locked upBloom & Vine, and let the night close in around me.
Chapter Ten
Daylight vs. Shadows
Sawyer
The barn was quiet except for the crush of hay under my boots and the sound of Grace tearing into her feed. King pawed the floor of his stall like he owned the place, ears flicking until I dropped his share.
“Impatient bastard,” I muttered, sliding the door shut.
That’s when headlights swung across the yard, washing over the barn doors. A car rolled to a stop out front—not a truck, not one of the guys—a small sedan.
I leaned out the doorway, wiped my hands down my jeans, and let out a sharp whistle. Her head snapped up through the windshield.
“I’m down here at the stable,” I called, voice carrying across the drive.
The door opened, and Lilly stepped out. The sight of her hit me in the chest before I could brace for it. She crossed the yard with that same mix of determination and nerves she always worearound me—chin up, steps steady, but her fingers twisted tight in the strap of her bag. No Sunny in the car.
Just Lilly.
I tipped my head toward her, keeping my tone easy. “Didn’t you cancel on me last night? Said you had a headache. Figured it was one of those… women things.”
Her mouth curved, quick and faint. “Guess I’m better today.”
I gestured toward the back porch and followed her up the path. My eyes caught what I shouldn’t—yoga pants and a loose sweatshirt, casual as hell, but on her it worked like armor and temptation rolled into one.
The porch light caught the curve of her hips, the faint line of a thong beneath the fabric. I told myself to look away, but the sway in her walk made it damn near impossible. She had to know I saw. Maybe she wanted me to.
Heat hit low in my gut, sharp and fast, and I clenched my jaw, dragging my gaze back to the steps. Monique’s voice was still in my head, cutting through the haze:Connection is built in daylight, not in the shadows.
I forced myself to double down, nodding toward the swing. “Let’s sit.”
She glanced at me. “We have to talk,” she said, but there wasn’t much conviction in her voice; it was more like she was trying to convince herself.
We sat side by side, space between us, the night buzzing with crickets. The air was warm, carrying the faint smell of hay from the barn and the scent from the Lodge Pole Pines surrounding the ranch.
She was the first to break the quiet. “Marianne picked up her order today. She loved everything. Said it was perfect.” Her voice softened. “I couldn’t have done it without Emma, though.”
I nodded, gazing at the yard. “It seems you always figure it out.”
She gave a quick laugh. “Yeah, well. Barely. But… thanks for offering to pick me up the other night. I didn’t want to leave my caragain. I just—” She paused, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I just needed to see you.”
