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“Did we not buy any bacon?” she asks.

I can tell she’s in a mood. “Here, move over.”

She plops down on the stool. I rummage in the drawer until I come up with a pack. There’s several packs already, but someone piled a bunch of half-defrosted steaks on them. When she sees, she rolls her eyes.

“God, I feel terrible today,” she says.

“You sick?”

She shakes her head. “I just couldn’t sleep. Colin is driving me insane.”

I cut the pack open and lay the bacon out on a sheet pan. “Okay. Why?”

“He’s just so annoying,” she says. “Hot, cold. It’s annoying.”

Deep down, I know it’s probably not Colin. At least, he’s not doing anything I couldn’t have predicted. It’s something else I noticed a few years ago: I don’t know if Serena is cut out for ranch life. It kind of feels like she’s getting zoochosis out here, going in circles, not knowing what the world looks like on the other side. Me, I’d like to travel, but I don’t know if I want to leave. Serena is different, but I don’t even know if she knows how. I always thought she was destined for something different than the ranch. I kind of hate that these no-good wranglers always have her running around after them.

“Maybe dump Colin?” I suggest.

She shakes back her hair, switching it. “I just might.”

“You mind watering the Maligators?”

She disappears, and I hear the whirr of the outdoor faucet going. I’m only alone for a few minutes before the back door opens, and Coen walks in. My heart does a double backflip. Even though we both agreed we were a one-and-done-hookup, it’s so hard not to wish it was more, even though I know that’s foolish.

“Hey,” he says. “Uh, I was thinking of going out to visit the house later. I’ll take the rental truck.”

I flip on the stove. “The house?”

“Yeah, my house.”

Frowning, I force myself to look at him. God, he’s handsome.

“The house I grew up in,” he says. “I looked it up last night, and I think it’s still standing. Nobody lives there, as far as I can tell, but I’d like to drive out.”

There’s a hint of hesitancy in his voice. I’m not sure why.

“Okay, that’s fine,” I say cheerily. “I can handle the ranch for the day.”

He shifts. “I was hoping you’d go with me.”

Oh. My stomach swoops. I gaze up at him, and he looks back, not tearing his eyes away. He has such an intense stare. I could trip and fall right into it. Maybe I already did.

“Okay,” I say before I realize what I’m doing. “If you want to help me with chores first, I’ll go.”

My brain churns the whole time we move through chores. I do my best to keep my eyes on my work while I measure out horse feed, but his presence is overwhelming. Every time I glance over, he’s looking sweatier and dirtier and all around sexier. At one point, his shirt rides up a little, and I see the trail of hair running beneath his belt.

My body tingles.

This isn’t going to work. We shouldn’t have slept together.

I go inside and clean up. He meets me at the front and opens the truck’s passenger door for me, which isn’t helping matters. His forearm flexes as he backs up and heads down the drive, palm flat on the wheel. I force my stare ahead, at the flat gray horizon to the west. He’s going to notice if I can’t quit staring.

“Thanks for coming,” he says finally.

“Yep, no problem.”

It’s so strange to be back to strangers after what we did in his bed. The air crackles with a hint of tension. I wish I knew what to say to break it, but I’m not used to situations like this. Everyone I dated before him was cut and dry, a situation where we were both straightforward about wanting to go out. This is different and full of complications.