Page 70 of Ride Me Cowboy

My eyes are growing heavy when he says, “What’re you going to tell your friend?”

It takes me a few seconds to catch on to what he’s saying. To remember Elsie’s text, and it’s like a frigid iceberg has just drifted into my chest cavity. It’s a problem without an easy answer.

“I don’t want to go,” I say, slowly, brows knitting together. “But I also don’t want to hurt their feelings.”

He grunts. What does that mean? A grunt of agreement? Disagreement?

“Anything to add to that?” I ask, shifting sleepily, propping my chin on his chest so I can look at his face.

“You askin’ me for advice, City Girl?”

“I guess I am,” I say, and when he drops his head forward to place a kiss on my forehead, my whole body lifts with goosebumps.

I move my leg a little, over his, glorying in our nakedness, in the intimacy of lying like this, in his truck, beneath a blanket of stars, with a gentle summer breeze rustling across us.

“I reckon it’s about time you absolve yourself from worrying about their feelings.”

“They’re not bad people. What happened with Christopher wasn’t their fault.”

“You say you spent your marriage protecting him, but do you really think they didn’t know what was going on? What he was like?”

I frown, thinking of Elsie. I hadn’t known her that long when I met Christopher, yet I feel like I really understood her. I don’tdoubt that she cared about me. “I really don’t think they knew, no.”

“Maybe not the extent of it,” he says, after a beat, stroking my hair, as though he wants to reassure me even when he’s disagreeing with me. “But I reckon they knew something wasn’t right.”

I thought the Christopher scar was at full expansion, but it cracks a little in my chest, opening up wider, because I realize Cole’s right. There’s no way anyone could have spent time with Christopher and me—who knew me before—and believed things with us were healthy.

So what? Were they intentionally ignoring the signs, or just hoping for the best?

“It just seems to me that after what you’ve been through, you need to look after yourself. Maybe next year, you’ll feel like you actually want to go see her on her birthday. Maybe things will have changed. But for now, you’re running because you need to run.”

I lift up to look at him again. It’s a perceptive comment and in the back of my mind, I’m almost bothered by how well he sees inside of me.

“I just don’t want to think about my old life, you know?”

“So don’t,” he says. “Why don’t you just exist in this moment, here with us. For now, it’s exactly where you’re meant to be.”

And as my eyes grow heavy and I stifle a yawn, I admit to myself that he’s completely right. I know it’s temporary, but that doesn’t change the facts: in this moment, there’s nowhere else I’d wantto be than Coyote Creek Ranch, and no one else I’d rather spend time with than Cole Donovan.

“What was in town this afternoon?” I don’t know why I ask it. After all, I presume someone like Cole has a million reasons for heading into Goodnight. But there’s something in the back of my mind, some sixth sense, and the question forms without me really intending it. I stifle another yawn, tiredness wrapping around me like a blanket.

He doesn’t answer straight away, and then says, “Why d’you ask?”

Which is enough of a reason to be glad I did. It makes me think it’s important. “Is it a secret?” I tease, keeping it light. As someone who’s made an artform out of keeping things close to my chest, I know that asking a question too directly can lead to a shutdown.

“I had a meeting,” he says, after another longer-than-necessary beat.

“Yeah?” I glance up at him. “A good meeting?”

He looks at me, his eyes roaming my face, like he’s thinking that through, long and hard.

“Not really.” It’s more than I’d expected. I nod, slowly, thoughtfully. I’m not tired anymore. My interest is piqued, and it’s brought me a second wind.

“In what way?”

He sends me a look. A look that says,butt out. Or,why are you asking me this? But he sighs, then runs his hand over my hair. “Why do you make me feel like I can tell you anything?”

My heart trembles, like the breeze brushing over me has somehow reached inside my chest.