Of course she does.
And just like that, they’re moving toward the barn together, his stride adjusting without thought so she can keep up, her smaller steps matching his without effort. Like they’ve done this before even though they haven’t.
I follow a few steps behind, not close enough to hover, not far enough to pretend I’m not watching every single thing he does.
Inside the barn, the air shifts, cooler, quieter, the sounds of the ranch softening into something more contained. Jace moves likehe knows this space is second nature to him in a way that doesn’t feel showy or forced.
“Easy,” he murmurs to the horse as they approach, his hand coming up to rest along its neck, the animal settling under his touch like it trusts him without question.
Hadley watches, completely focused. “He likes you,” she says.
Jace huffs out a quiet breath that might be a laugh. “Most days,” he replies. “You want to try?”
She nods, stepping closer. He guides her hand gently, showing her where to stand, how to move, his voice low and steady as he talks her through it without rushing, without overwhelming her.
I lean against the stall door, arms still crossed, telling myself I’m just observing, just making sure everything stays within the lines I’ve set.
But the longer I stand there, the harder it is to ignore what I’m seeing.
He’s careful.
Intentional.
Present in a way that doesn’t feel temporary.
And that doesn’t fit the man I remember.
Which means one of two things.
Either I was wrong about him before…
Or he’s better at this than I expected.
Neither option sits well.
Either way…
It changes the way I have to handle this.
I tell myself to stay focused on the details, on the small things that are easier to control. Like the way Hadley’s grip on the brush is a little too tight or the way she keeps looking up at him like she’s waiting for approval she doesn’t need.
My attention keeps drifting back to him anyway, to the way he adjusts without thinking, the way he reads her before she has to ask for anything, and it pulls at something I don’t want to name.
This isn’t how it’s supposed to go.
This is supposed to be complicated, awkward, uncertain in a way that keeps everything at a distance long enough for me to decide what to do with it. Instead it feels like something is settling into place faster than I’m ready for, and that alone is enough to put me on edge.
“Like this?” Hadley asks, her voice bright but careful, like she wants to get it right.
Jace nods, his hand hovering near hers without correcting her outright. “Yeah, just a little slower,” he says. “Let him feel it. Horses don’t like being rushed.”
She adjusts immediately, concentrating, and the horse shifts slightly before settling again. The look on her face when she realizes she did it right hits me harder than it should.
“See?” Jace adds a hint of approval in his tone that isn’t overdone. “You’ve got it.”
Hadley beams, and something in my chest tightens, not because of what he said, but because of how easily it landed, how naturally she takes it from him like it belongs there.
That’s what I don’t trust.
