“Hey, what’s going on?”
“You cooking breakfast?” he asks, suspicious.
Your son is.
“Well, gotta start the day bright and early,” I add. “And yes, Cole came home. He brought me home—we got back late—”
“Hey, Dad,” Cole says casually from behind him. “Did you need me? Sorry, I was chopping some wood out back. Layla was asking me for some good wood, y’know, for the fireplace.”
I laugh. I can’t help it.
“Oh,” John says. “Okay. I was worried. Maggie didn’t come home.”
“Dad, we’re adults,” Cole says. “Maggie went home with some girl last night.”
John waves his hand. “You’ll always be children to me. Go wake your brother and have him help you today. I’m not feeling up to it.”
Cole puts a hand on his shoulder and walks him toward the main house. Before he disappears, he looks back at me and smiles.
Not the smirk. Not the guarded one. The real one. Oh boy. What have I done?
Chapter 13
Opening up
Cole
I can handle it. I can handle being a fling. A short summer thing. A cowboy she spends a few weeks with before she goes back to her real life. At least, that’s what I keep telling mys elf.
Because being in her bed last night, having that moment with her, feeling her wrapped around me, has my head completely fucked today. I’m out here on the ranch trying to work, and all I can think about is Layla. Layla. Layla.
That girl does something to me I can’t explain. No woman ever has. And I’ve only known her for a month.
I didn’t want to get out of that bed this morning. I didn't want to leave her there. But making her breakfast? Watching her eat what I cooked, wearing nothing but my shirt and then takingoff said shirt. Smiling at me like she belonged there—hell, that might’ve been the highlight of my year.
I shake my head and try to focus.
“Why did you have to wake me up so early?” Luke groans beside me. “What do we even need to be up this early for? Can’t you handle all this stuff on your own?”
I shoot him a look. Fuck, I’ve babied this kid too much. After Mom died, I let him get away with everything. Dad did too. We were all just… surviving.
“You’re gonna have to help run this ranch one day,” I tell him, keeping my voice steady. “You can’t sleep your life away, Luke. I know it’s nice. I know it feels good. But this place doesn’t run itself, and I can’t do it all alone.”
He sighs. “Alright, alright. What do you want me to do?”
“I need you grooming the horses. Summer shed’s coming in, and Callie’s pregnant. Ready to give birth. I want her cleaned up before things get harder on her.”
“Yeah, of course,” he says, already heading toward the stables.
As I set up the tack, I glance toward the guest house. And there she is.
Layla steps outside wearing a bikini top and those damn shorts, carrying a lounge chair like she owns the place. Laptop tucked under her arm. Notebook and pen in hand. Writing already. Always writing.
She settles into the sun, sunglasses sliding down her nose as she looks up at me.
I swear to Christ, I almost forget how to breathe.
She sprays herself with water, smiling softly like the heat doesn’t bother her. It’s already eighty degrees out here. Makes me think we should’ve gotten a pool years ago. Maggie would’ve loved that. Hell, everyone would.
