Page 16 of Whispers of Sweetwater

‘Okay, here’s a bit of a change of subject, but for what it’s worth, I think Sweetwater suits you.’

Her chest did that maddening flutter thing again, and she took another sip of her drink to chase it away. ‘That so?’

‘Yeah.’ He glanced at her, then held her gaze. ‘It’s like watching someone discovering who they really are.’

She wasn’t sure what to say to that, and for once she didn’t need to. The silence between them carried enough meaning to stand on its own.

Then, with their plates scraped empty, Hayden raised his beer. ‘To chaotic karaoke nights and new vets who can keep up with us crazy Sweetwater locals.’

Brianna raised her glass in return. ‘To country men with poetic souls and chips with extra gravy.’

They clinked glasses gently. And as the band returned from their break and struck up a slow tune, the voices rose around them. That was right when Brianna realised she hadn’t felt this seen by a man, or felt this light in herself, in longer than she could remember. Whatever was happening between them, something real had begun to stir beneath the surface. And even though it felt good right now, that terrified her. Because she couldn’t risk the fall. She had her business to think of. And knowing that, she resolved that she was just going to enjoy this charming man’s company for tonight.

She’d enjoy the warmth in his smile and the safety of the moment – while pretending she didn’t feel the ground quietly shifting beneath her feet.

CHAPTER 5

The morning sun broke over Sweetwater like liquid gold, spilling across the hills in soft, shimmering waves. The air was cool, clean and quiet – the kind of quiet that let a man hear his own thoughts whether he wanted to or not. Sighing, Hayden rolled onto his back in the still-warm bed, one arm flung across his forehead, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. He hadn’t slept poorly, but he hadn’t slept deeply either. His mind, it seemed, had kept galloping long after he’d said goodnight to the mesmerising, captivating, enthralling Miss Brianna Steele. Even just thinking her name now brought that same warm pull low in his chest. And against his better judgement, he smiled faintly, remembering the way her laughter had lilted like music above the pub noise. The way her eyes had sparkled, playful one moment, thoughtful the next. Throughout their conversations, she’d challenged him without even trying, disarmed him with nothing more than honesty and a wry smile.

And the way she’d looked at him …

God help him.

He groaned softly, pushing a hand through his hair. What had he been thinking, agreeing to Gavin’s idiotic dare? It had started off as nothing, just a bit of banter, a harmless prod from a mate full of rum and bravado. But now, after their night at the pub, learning about each other, laughing with one another? After the drive home and the parting moment at her front gate?

There was nothing harmless about any of it.

He hadn’t planned to be the one to drop her off. But when Molly had excused herself an hour earlier, loudly proclaiming she was off to bed and that Brianna had absolutely no excuse not to stay for one more drink, the decision had been made for them. He’d enjoyed just four mid-strength beers across the entire night, slowly, methodically, and had been fine to drive. And there was no way he was allowing Brianna to wander back to her cottage in the dark on her own. As harmless as Sweetwater was, he felt an obligation to get her home safe and sound. Gavin, by contrast, had been laughing so hard at his own jokes that he didn’t even notice his wife Tilly appear at the side of the pub to collect him, giving Hayden a grateful nod as she dragged her grinning larrikin of a husband out the door.

That had left just the two of them.

Him and the beautiful Brianna.

One last drink. One last song from the band. A slow amble out to his four-wheel drive beneath a canopy of stars. She’d looked at him like she wanted to say something as they reached her gate, one hand on the strap of her bag, the other curled loosely around the edge of the passenger seat. But she didn’t. And neither did he. Instead, there’d been a smile. Quiet. Charged. The kind that held promise and restraint in equal measure. He could’ve so easily, enjoyably kissed her. But he didn’t. And now, sprawled out in the silence of his room, he was glad for it. Because it would’ve been for the wrong reason. Because of the dare. Because of pride. And she deserved better. Way better than the likes of him. What the heck had he gone and started?

With that torturous contemplation, he climbed from the tousled bed, stood, and stretched. The ache in his chest wasn’t guilt, exactly. It was something deeper. Regret for letting himself step into a situation that didn’t honour her. Because whatever was sparking between them wasn’t something he wanted tangled up in a bet. Hell, he didn’t want himself tangled up in it, in her. She was too … addictive, funny, fascinating, clever … Too good for him.

Grumbling to himself, he tugged on a pair of worn jeans and a clean tee, already knowing what he needed. Thinking could only get a man so far. The rest? That came with riding.

Outside, the paddocks shimmered in the early light. Duchess lifted her head as he approached the fence, her ears pricking at the sound of his boots.

‘Morning, girl,’ he said, his voice low and fond.

She stepped towards him, brushing her nose along his arm, and he slipped the bridle over her ears with practised ease. Saddling her took no time. He’d done it a thousand times before. But today, every buckle and strap felt like a return to something honest. Mounting up, he gave her the lightest nudge, and they moved together through the crisp early-morning air. The paddocks stretched out ahead, wide and forgiving, as they broke into a gallop along the ridgeline. With the wind slicing past his ears and his heart thundering in time with Duchess’s hoofs, he let it all go.

The pub.

The bet.

The growing pressure in his chest.

Because out here, the world made sense. And out here he made himself a silent promise. He’d come clean. Not today. Not like this. But soon.

Brianna Steele deserved truth.

If there was any chance of something real between them, even a smidgen, it would only be built on trust. And respect. Lots of it.

Who was he kidding?