“Layla Lou.” He says, voice low, almost reverent.
“Yes?” I say back.
“I like it. It’s fitting.”
“I would’ve much preferred Molly, Sally, Georgia, Eloise. Any of those.” I say.
“That’s pretty specific.” He says.
“I have a list.” I say winking.
We get to the creek swimming hole area and Cole waves everyone down.
“Let’s stop here, take a break,dip our feet in.” He shouts.
I hop down from Shadow, boots hitting soft earth, the scent of water and moss rising up. Taking a good look around the scenery, I see a huge willow tree with a swing hanging from a big branch. I start walking toward it leaving the group behind. It’s gorgeous like something out of a watercolor painting, long green branches cascading like a curtain, sunlight piercing through in golden shafts, water sparkling clear and cool nearby. I walk toward it and under the waterfall of branches I look up—gorgeous, sunlight piercing through. This is inspirational. It’s beautiful. I sit on the swing made of rope and a piece of wood—rough hemp under my palms, wood smooth and warm from the sun. And start swinging thinking of my book. What I will write next. What will be the conflict resolution of their story? I feelthe breeze and then sun on me and it feels good. I can’t believe I didn’t see this tree the first time I was here.
“Enjoying yourself?” Cole asks coming under the tree with me—his boots soft on the mossy ground, shadow falling across me.
“I am. I can’t believe I didn’t see this before.” I let out a sigh and continue to swing, the rope creaking gently.
“It’s beautiful.” He says staring me up and down—eyes slow, appreciative, making my skin heat under the gaze.
“It is.” I say quietly.
“My mom loved this tree.”
My swinging slows down. Because Cole gets quiet so I stop. He just stares drifting off in his mind and so I stand up—the swing swaying empty behind me.
“I’m so sorry I meant no disrespect to your mother. I didn’t know. It’s just so beautiful. It was like calling to me or something. I’m sorry—”
He pulls my hand as I start to turn away and pulls me close to him. Our bodies press together, We look each other in the eyes—nose touching, lips hovering, his breath warm on my mouth, the scent of him filling my lungs. My heart slams against my ribs.
“You’re beautiful,” he says—voice low, rough, almost a growl.
I feel the want and the ache of needing his mouth on mine—every nerve lighting up, thighs clenching, the heat pooling low. Just when I think he’s about to—he pulls away. Puts his hat back on, starts walking towards the horses.
I follow him back over. I’m not saying anything. Just thinking. I wanted this. I said I needed time to think and I do. But being around him… he consumes me. He makes everything disappear to where it’s just him and I. But what kind of game is he playing?
We ride back towards the ranch—Cole’s in front of me now. Maggie and Mel are beside me and we are chatting about the day. How this was really fun. How we should all get in the pool tonight. That sounds amazing actually—the thought of cool water on my heated skin, laughter echoing under the string lights.
“Lanie, I hear you have a daughter,” I say.
“I do, her name is Izabella but we call her Bella,” she says.
“How old?” I ask.
“She’s 2,” she says.
“Oh my goodness. You should bring her to the pool tonight. We can grill and swim. She will have a fun time. I will play with her while you and Maggie enjoy some time together,” I say.
“Wow, Layla, that is so kind of you. I would love to do that. Are you sure? You guys don’t mind?”
“Sounds great,” Maggie says.
I nod. And smile.
When we get back to the ranch. Maggie pulls me aside.
