Page 174 of Saltwater Cowboy

I turned my head toward him. “Watching the sunset?”

He shook his head, his gaze still on the horizon. “Being here with you.”

Something warm settled in my chest, spreading like the slow dip of the sun beyond the fields. I didn’t say anything, just let the moment settle over us, the quiet carrying more weight than words ever could.

Eventually, the sky faded to a deep blue, the stars blinking awake one by one, and the night air grew cooler. Wells squeezed my hand. “You ready to head in?”

I nodded, letting him pull me to my feet, and without another word, we walked inside together.

Sunlight streamed through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room as I stretched, warmth pressing against my back. It took me a second to register where I was—Wells’ bed, the sheets tangled around my legs, his arm slung lazily over my waist.

I turned my head, finding him still half-asleep, his hair a mess, one cheek smushed against the pillow.

A slow grin spread across my face. “Where’s my daily sunflower?”

Wells cracked one eye open, then let out a low groan, running a hand through his hair. “You’re a menace, you know that?”

I smirked. “You set the standard. I’m just holding you to it.”

He exhaled, rolling onto his back. “Stay here.”

Before I could respond, he was up, pulling on a pair of sweats and disappearing out the door. I stretched out in his bed, enjoying the slow, easy morning, listening to the faint sounds of the house waking up: the creak of the floorboards, the distant hum of the coffee maker kicking on.

A few minutes later, Wells returned, one hand tucked behind his back. He climbed onto the bed and pulled out a single, golden sunflower, handing it to me with a lazy grin.

“Your daily delivery,” he said.

I took it, twirling the stem between my fingers, my heart doing something ridiculous in my chest. “You’re such a sap.”

“Yeah, well,” he leaned in, pressing a kiss to my forehead, “I think you like it.”

Before I could argue—not that I really wanted to—Granger’s nails clicked against the hardwood floor outside the room, the rhythmic sound growing louder as he trotted toward us. A second later, his snout nudged the door open, and he sauntered in like he owned the place, tail wagging.

Wells sighed dramatically. “You couldn’t give us five more minutes, bud?”

Granger huffed, then hopped up onto the bed like it was his morning routine. He flopped down right between us, stretching out with a satisfied sigh.

I laughed, scratching behind his ears. “Guess he didn’t get the memo that this is our bed now.”

Wells arched a brow. “Oh? Our bed?”

Heat bloomed up my neck, but I covered it with a shrug. “I mean… I didn’t say I was leaving.”

Something shifted in his gaze, something softer, something certain.

“Good,” he murmured, reaching over Granger to run a knuckle along my jaw. “Because I don’t want you to.”

I swallowed, my fingers tightening around the sunflower in my lap.

This thing between us felt steady now. And I realized in that moment that I wasn’t scared anymore.

Wells nudged Granger over with a groan, reclaiming his spot beside me. “Come on, let’s get some coffee before the whole farm wakes up.”

I rolled onto my side, propping myself up on one elbow. “You gonna bring me coffee in bed too?”

He smirked. “Don’t push your luck.”

I laughed, letting him pull me up and out of bed, the scent of morning coffee, hay, and something that smelled an awful lot like a fresh start filling the air.