Page 13 of Whispers of Sweetwater

‘Presence?’ Molly teased with her eyebrows raised. ‘If that’s what you call broad shoulders, a grin that could melt steel, and eyes that look straight through you, to your very core, then sure, presence it is.’

Brianna ducked her head, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks. She took another sip of her drink to buy time. The tang of lime cut through the fizz, grounding her just enough to resist casting another glance in Hayden’s direction.

Just.

Molly leant in conspiratorially. ‘You know, he hasn’t looked this animated in a while. Not since before, well, before things changed.’

Brianna lifted her gaze. ‘Changed?’

But before Molly could elaborate, Hayden looked up, and like a lightning strike, their eyes met and locked. As if only for her, his smile broadened, and not in the practised charm of a man used to getting his way, but with the genuine interest of someone encountering a kindred spirit. And just like that, amid the cacophony of the pub, a shift occurred, a subtle change in the atmosphere as if someone had drawn back a curtain to let the moonlight in. Despite the raucous symphony continuing around them, in that intimate pocket of space it felt as though they were alone. Within that suspended heartbeat of recognition, everything seemed to still. The magnetic moment stretched time, with everything else blurring at the edges. Even the noise of the pub faded into the background hum of clinking glasses and soft chatter, and for a beat too long, a pivotal beat that made her own heart beat faster, neither of them looked away. Then, with a nod that was equal parts greeting and question, Hayden broke the spell and returned to his conversation.

Molly smirked, watching Brianna closely. ‘Mm-hmm. You’re not the only one noticing things tonight.’

‘Stop it,’ Brianna muttered a little shyly while fiddling with her coaster.

‘I’m just saying,’ Molly replied, her tone softening, ‘Sweetwater has a way of wrapping you up when you least expect it. Could be the stars. Could be the beer. Or maybe it’s just someone worth sticking around for.’

Brianna smiled wryly, unsure whether to lean into the comfort of Molly’s words or retreat behind the familiar walls she’d spent years building. But something about the night, about the warmth of the room, the echo of Hayden’s laugh, and the easy company of her new friend, made those walls feel less necessary. A little porous, even. So she glanced once more towards the corner, and this time she didn’t look away so quickly. Her heart skipped in an unfamiliar rhythm as Hayden’s laughter once again unfurled across the crowded pub. It was a sound that seemed to weave through the hubbub like silver thread through coarse fabric. And as she gazed at him, as she really looked at the man who’d been in her dreams way too much, a warm glow spread through her chest, ignited by his infectious energy and charm. She couldn’t help but trace the curve of his jaw with her eyes, noting every detail of his features that were softened by the dim light. A sigh escaped her, soft and lost amid the clinking of glasses and the low murmur of conversations around them. It was more than just his looks, though those were admittedly striking – it was the sheer magnetism of his presence, the way he could command attention without seeming to try. So powerful was his charisma that she felt the tug of attraction, that dangerous dance of what-ifs and maybes that she’d vowed to steer clear from.

‘Focus, Bri,’ she chided herself quietly as she tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear in a gesture that was part resolve, part nervous energy.

Molly, who clearly hadn’t missed a beat of the silent exchange across the room, leant closer with a knowing twinkle in her eye. ‘You know,’ she said, swirling the ice in her glass, ‘I’ve seen that look before.’

Brianna tore her gaze away, caught but pretending otherwise. ‘What look?’

The one that says, ‘I’d rather study his face than a dessert menu,’ Molly teased, smirking over the rim of her drink.

Brianna huffed a laugh. ‘Well, in my defence, he’s considerably more interesting than sticky date pudding.’

‘Blasphemy,’ Molly gasped, pressing a hand to her chest. ‘Don’t let Doreen in the kitchen hear you say that. She’s had the same dessert on the menu since the millennium.’

‘Noted,’ Brianna said, smiling despite herself. ‘Now come on, let’s order before I pass out from hunger.’

Or overwhelming lust, she thought cheekily.

* * *

Enjoying his view from the corner table, Hayden leant back with a chuckle still fresh on his lips, his empty glass catching the flickering light. Gavin, perched across from him and four rum and cokes in, leant in with a smirk that spelled trouble.

‘You’ve gone soft,’ Gavin announced, tapping his glass on the table for emphasis.

Hayden raised a brow. ‘Excuse me?’

‘You used to be able to charm the boots off a stockhorse without even trying, Pierce. Now look at you, nodding across the pub like a sheepdog on tea break.’

Hayden rolled his eyes, but the jab struck deeper than he let on. ‘You’re drunk and full of crap.’

‘Maybe,’ Gavin said, raising a finger, ‘but I still think you’ve forgotten how to woo a woman.’

Hayden’s smile thinned. It was the sort of expression a man wore when someone poked at a bruise they didn’t know was still so very tender. ‘You’re seriously going to tell me that I’ve lost my charm?’

‘Tell you, no. Challenge you to prove it? Oh yeah,’ Gavin cut in, grinning like the devil himself as he jerked his chin towards Brianna, who sat at the bar table across the room. ‘If you manage to win over Miss New Vet by the end of the month, you know, get her properly smitten, I’ll bite my tongue on the subject and give you five hundred bucks.’

Hayden scoffed, more weary than offended. ‘That’s ridiculous.’

‘Come on,’ Gavin pressed, his tone lowering as he followed Hayden’s gaze. ‘You’ve seen the way she looks at you. Like you’ve got tall, rugged and mysterious printed on your forehead. And as for the way you look at her? Mate, you’re halfway there already. So this’ll be a walk in the park.’

Hayden’s jaw flexed. It wasn’t about the money. He didn’t need it. But something about the way Gavin spoke stirred something raw inside him. Like he was watching his broken-hearted caricature from the outside, and the version of himself in that picture didn’t quite fit what he wanted for his life anymore. It had been years since the loss of Casey had left a gaping hole in his heart, and since then he hadn’t so much as glanced at a woman with more than polite interest. Instead, he’d buried himself in his land, the horses, the relentless rhythm of rural life. He’d let the grief settle into his bones like red dust – quiet, constant and almost comforting.