Page 116 of Saltwater Cowboy

The dried flowers had been such a hit that I knew I needed to double the amount I brought for this week’s market. After spending the day helping Wells on the farm, I’d been devoting my evenings to putting together new dried flower arrangements. Lavender was my latest experiment—I had started drying it and putting it into little sachets that people could buy for their drinks, syrups, or baked goods. It sounded like a good idea, but the last thing I needed was for it to be a flop.

I just hoped I wasn’t getting ahead of myself. With every arrangement I made, I couldn’t help but feel excited. The idea of offering something unique—something personal—made me proud. It felt like the perfect way to bring a little extra magic to the market.

The sun had set, casting a deep orange glow across the sky, and Wells and I had just finished another full day of farm work. The evening air was crisp but still carried a warmth from the last rays of daylight, which made the whole farm feel like it was settling into a quiet rhythm. Wells was checking on the chickens, moving through his tasks with the ease of someone who’d done this a thousand times before. Meanwhile, I was struggling to keep up with the farm’s most persistent residents—goats.

I was standing by the pen, rope in hand, attempting to coax Mr. Nibbles—the most stubborn goat of the bunch—back into the fence. It was harder than I expected, especially after a day of working non-stop. Every time I thought I had him settled, he darted off again, munching on whatever plant he could find.

“Hey!” I shouted, pulling the rope tighter as he tried to escape once more. “Stop eating the fence!” But the goat wasn’t interested in my commands. Instead, he darted past me with a victorious bleat and started nibbling on the hem of my shirt.

“Not the shirt!” I growled, swatting at him as I tried to pull away. Of course, this only made him more determined, like he was trying to “help” me with the chore.

Wells glanced over at me, clearly stifling a grin. “Need some help?” he called out, his voice full of amusement.

“Need a miracle,” I huffed, my frustration mounting as I struggled to free my shirt from Mr. Nibbles’ eager chewing.

Wells strolled over, taking his time and looking completely unbothered. He stood there with his hands on his hips, like he had all the time in the world. “I’ve got a way with goats,” he said with that signature, cocky smile. “You just have to be patient.”

I threw my hands up in exasperation. “Oh, I’m being patient alright,” I muttered under my breath, finally tugging hard enough on the rope to get Mr. Nibbles’ attention and lead him back to the pen. It felt like hours of back-and-forth, but eventually, I managed to get him inside and slammed the gate shut behind him.

“That was… an experience,” I said, wiping my hands on my shirt as I tried to catch my breath.

Wells chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re getting the hang of it.”

I rolled my eyes, brushing some of the dirt from my clothes. “I think I’ll stick to flowers from now on. At least they don’t bite.”

He grinned, offering me a hand to help me up. “You sure? I think you make a pretty good farmer.”

“Farmer?” I stared at him, taking in the sight of myself—covered in dirt and goat slobber. “Wells, I’m the worst farmer ever. I feel gross.”

“Nothing a shower can’t fix,” he said with a wink, his voice warm and teasing.

I glanced down at myself, suddenly aware of how grimy I was. “Right, well… I’m going to call it a night. You’ve got everything else, right?”

Wells gave me a thumbs-up, still chuckling as I headed toward the house.

The thought of a hot shower was too tempting to resist. I inhaled the cool evening air, letting it fill my lungs as I walked toward the house. The last few hours of farm work had left me covered in dirt and hay, and a moment of peace was exactly what I needed.

I quickly stripped off my muddy clothes and headed into the shower. The water pummeling my skin washed away the day. The warmth of the bathroom felt like a luxury and the sound of the water rushing from the shower was soothing. I closed my eyes for a moment, letting the steam settle around me as I tried to relax.

But, as always, things couldn’t stay peaceful for long.

Just as I stepped into the shower, I heard a tap-tap-tap on the bathroom door.

I froze and the door opened.

My heart skipped a beat. I waited, hoping it was just my imagination.

With my heart racing, I cautiously pushed the shower curtain open a crack, peering around the corner.

And there—standing in the middle of my bathroom—was freakin’ Mr. Nibbles, chewing on the edge of the shower rug like it was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted.

I stared at him, too stunned to react at first.

Then, my brain caught up with reality and I wrapped a towel around my body.

“Wells!” I yelled, clutching the towel tighter around my body and scrambling to cover myself. “Wells!”

His voice filtered through the hall, muffled by the walls. “What’s up?”