She shrugged. “You know what they say—idle hands and all that.”
He chuckled. “Yup.”
They worked in comfortable silence for several minutes, gathering stray cups and beer bottles. Nearby, Paige and Nicole carried the last of the leftovers inside, while Shane and Tucker scrubbed the grills and rinsed out the now-empty chili pot. A few of the ranch hands folded the chairs and tables, hauling them to a nearby storage shed.
The air had cooled, and someone started a fire in the pit, sending orange light dancing across the yard.
Seth turned to her. “Want to sit for a while? Enjoy the fire?”
As much as she didn’t want the evening—or her time with him—to end, she knew she needed to walk away. She couldn’t afford to forget why she was there. Liking these people, feeling as if she belonged—it would only make things worse when the truth came out. When they realized who she really was.
“I’d love to, but I should probably get back to the motel. It’s been a long few days, and I’m kinda beat.”
She caught the hint of disappointment on his face—and before she could stop herself, the words tumbled out. “Rain check, though?”
“Sure. Come on,” he said, nodding toward the gravel drive. “I’ll walk you to your truck.”
She hesitated, glancing toward the house where the porch light turned on. Paige stepped onto the porch carrying Ashley, now dressed in pajamas, and Shane crossed the yard to steal a kiss from his daughter before bedtime. It was a sweet scene that almost made Shylo melt.
Feeling as if she were being watched, she looked over her shoulder. Tucker leaned against a post, arms folded, his eyes narrowed as he studied her. She couldn’t read his expression, but something in it made her chest tighten.
Trying not to show that the man’s scrutiny unnerved her, she followed Seth toward the driveway.
They walked past the corral, where the horses were silent and still as the night fell. Crickets chirped from the tall grass, and the occasional low moo of a cow echoed in the distance.
“You’re quiet,” Seth said. “Everything okay?”
Shylo gave a humorless laugh. “Uh... yeah. I’m fine. Just taking it all in. Your bosses, their family and friends, and the ranch... it’s a lot.”
“Yup, it is. But it’s a good kind.”
When they reached her truck, she turned to thank him, but he lifted his hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, his thumb brushing her cheek with surprising gentleness.
Her breath caught. No one had touched her like that in a long time—as if she mattered. Like she might even belong.
But she couldn't let herself believe that. Not yet. Maybe never.
“You’re hard to read,” he said, his voice low and husky.
She blinked, surprised by his honesty. “Is that a complaint?”
“Not sure yet.” A faint grin played at the edges of his mouth. “Just means I keep thinking about you more than I probably should.”
For a second, she couldn't move. Warning bells rang in her mind while butterflies fluttered in her stomach. He was too close, too attentive, and too sincere—and damn it, she liked all of that way too much.
She ducked her head for a moment before looking back up at him. “Careful. I might start thinking about you more than I should too.”
And that was the truth. In fact, she already had.
The air stretched between them, thick with possibility—everything unsaid lingering like smoke between two people too scared to fan the flame.
But she couldn’t afford to want this. Not here. Not now.
When she took a step back, he dropped his hand. “Goodnight, Shylo.”
She nodded and whispered, “Goodnight, Seth.”
He shoved his hands into his pockets as though stopping himself from reaching for her again. She climbed into the truck, closed the door, and started the engine. If she didn’t leave right then, she might beg him to go with her.
