Page 18 of Promised Cowboy
She steps into her boots, zipping them without meeting my eyes.
I finally cross the room, stopping just in front of her.
“Lacey.”
She looks up.
I search her face for something — regret, confusion, anything — but I don’t find it. What I see is more complicated. A mix of want and hesitation, like she’s still trying to hold both worlds in her hands and doesn’t know which one to set down.
“I’m not asking for answers,” I say. “But I want you to know — last night wasn’t just one night to me.”
She nods slowly, and something flickers in her gaze. She reaches up and cups my jaw, her fingers cool against my skin.
“It wasn’t just one night to me either.”
Then she kisses me — quick, soft, lingering — and pulls away before I can deepen it.
“I just… need a little time,” she adds.
I let her go.
I open the door for her and watch her walk out into the morning sun, loose hair shining gold in the light, back straight, boots crunching gravel as she heads for her truck.
She drives away without looking back.
And I stand there, hand still on the doorknob, wondering if I just watched the beginning of something real—
—or the end of something I never truly had.
Chapter 11 – Lacey
I keep thinking it’ll get easier once I’ve put some distance between us.
But the truth is, every hour since I left Colton’s house feels like I’ve been walking through water with weights tied to my ankles.
Everything’s slower. Heavier. Wrong.
I’ve thrown myself into helping around the ranch, anything to keep my hands busy. I reorganized the feed room, helped Rachel do the week’s meal prep, even climbed into the attic to look for baby clothes from Mason and Emily’s twins.
But none of it works.
Because my mind is still back in his bed.
Back in the warmth of his hands. His mouth. His voice, low and raw, telling me he meant every word.
And the worst part?
So did I.
It wasn’t supposed to matter this much. It wasn’t supposed to feel like home.
But it does. Too much. Too fast.
And now, it terrifies me.
* * *
Rachel notices first.