My eyes drop—to her mouth, then back to her eyes.
Why do I want to kiss her? Why does it feel like she wants me to? She’s not saying anything. Just looking. Waiting.
“I don’t need you to worry about me,” she snaps, pulling away. “I can handle myself.”
She turns and nearly misses the step, almost falling off the porch.
I catch her by the arm, pulling her back into me. Her back hits my chest, and I lean down, voice low by her ear.
“You sure about that?”
She tilts her head, looking up at me. Bites her lip. Licks it. I let her go before I do something stupid. She walks back towardthe door, but pauses, glancing over her shoulder at me. And the look she gives me? Yeah. It’s already started.
Chapter 5
Quick Release Knots
Layla
It’s been a few days since poker night, and all I’ve been thinking about is Cole. I don’t understand what happened exactly, but I know something did. Something shifted. Something cracked open just enough to make me aware of him in a way I wasn’t before and now I can’t seem to shut it off.
I’ve been writing since around six this morning, coffee in hand, laptop open on the small table by the window. I finally finished my first chapter, and instead of feeling relieved, I feel… restless. Watching him feels like research I didn’t know I needed. Maybe he is why my words are finally flowing.
Cole’s finally back from the weekend, and I’ve been watching him since I woke up. I tell myself it’s just backgroundnoise while I write, but that’s a lie. If I’m being honest with myself, I missed looking at him.
He’s walking the fence line, talking softly to the horses while he works. He feeds them grain, checks their water troughs, runs his hands over them like he knows every inch of their bodies by heart. I wish he knew my body like that. I enjoy watching him work. There’s something grounding about it. Something real.
He’s not a bad-looking guy. Actually… he’s really handsome. Just has a bad attitude. But, watching a man work like that—getting dirty, muscles flexing without him even trying—does things to me. I bet he could toss me around like I weighed nothing. Not a lot of men can. But I bet he could. Okay deep breath. Focus, Layla. That escalated quickly. Where did that thought even come from? And why am I suddenly interested in the grumpy cowboy?
I take a sip of coffee and look away from the window, trying to focus back on my screen. It doesn’t work. Because, I don’t understand why he’s so closed off with me. Or why I’m so damn desperate to get to know him. It’s like that saying,you want what you can’t haveand apparently my brain took that as a personal challenge. Wanting a man like him seems so dangerous.
He crouches down by one of the horses, running his hand carefully down its leg, probably checking for swelling or injury or whatever it is people who actually know horses do. I don’t really know. All I know is that he’s gentle with them.
Which doesn’t match his gruff tone. Or his sharp edges. Or the way he looks at me like I’m an inconvenience and a temptation all at once.
There’s someone sweet in there. I can feel it. Someone who’s been hurt badly enough to lock everything down tight.
And I want to know him.
I get dressed while still glancing out the window, choosing clothes that can get dirty. Jeans, a simple top. Nothing fancy. I’m hoping, maybe stupidly, that Cole might show me around. Show me what his day-to-day life looks like here on the ranch. Not for me, ya know, for educational purposes.
When I open the front door, I look down and stop short. There’s a pair of boots sitting right there. Maggie. Of course.
She must’ve left them for me so I wouldn’t get my tennis shoes dirty. She’s been talking nonstop about how I need boots if I’m going to survive out here. They’re cute, turquoise at the top, brown at the bottom. I recognize the brand from her rambling earlier. Justin’s.
I sit down by the door, slip off my sneakers, and tug the boots on. And to my surprise they fit perfectly. I’ve never worn boots before, and honestly, I wasn’t sure they’d work with my thick calves but they slide on like they were made for me. Maggie probably figured it out. She seems like the type who notices things like that.
I stand up, take a few steps, feeling taller somehow. Stronger. That was a really kind gesture, I really like her. And the thought hits me unexpectedly, sharp and quiet all at once, I’m going to miss her when I have to leave. I’m getting attached to this family very quickly. Six months suddenly feels both far away and not nearly long enough.
I leave the house and head in Cole’s direction. The crunch of gravel under my boots must give me away, because he turns around from the fence line just as I reach it.
And when he sees me… he looks me up and down. Slow. Intentional. His head tilts slightly, mouth pulling into a smirk when his eyes land on my boots. That look wasn’t accidental. I try not to overthink it. I fail.
I smile anyway.
When I reach the fence, he leans back against it and asks, “Where’d you get those boots?”
I laugh, slipping my hands into the back pockets of my jean shorts. “I believe your sister got them for me.”
