Page 2 of Promised Cowboy
Soon I’ll see him.
Rachel’s eyes twinkle mischievously, as if she can read every unspoken word swirling in my head. “I’m sure he’ll be glad to see you.”
I roll my eyes, but I can’t fight the smile tugging at my lips. “We’re friends, Rach.”
“Uh-huh.” She shifts Clara and arches a brow. “Just friends.”
I let out a soft laugh and turn my gaze back to the horizon. “Well, it’ll be good to catch up.”
What I don’t say—what I don’t let myself admit—is how much I’ve missed him. How even through the distance, the late-night calls, the comfortable conversations about nothing and everything, I’ve wondered what it would be like to stand in front of him again.
And whether that old promise we made as teenagers still lingers between us.
The one we both laughed about back then, but never quite forgot.
“If we’re still single at thirty,” he’d said with that easy, boyish grin, “we’ll marry each other.”
At the time, it had seemed like nothing more than a joke between friends. But now… now I’m back. And I’m not a teenager anymore.
Neither is he.
The thought sends a strange mix of excitement and nerves rippling through me. I push it aside, inhaling the cool morning air again, grounding myself.
Whatever happens, whatever this visit turns into—it’s good to be home.
For now.
Chapter 2 – Colton
The negotiation’s going well enough, but my head’s not in it.
I sit across from Frank Davis in the auction office, nodding as he drones on about the delivery schedule for the new hay supplier. I should be paying attention. Should be double-checking the pricing against last year’s order. Should be thinking about freight costs and storage space.
Instead, I’m thinking about her.
Lacey Monroe.
She’s back in Shadowbrook.
The text from Mason had come in late last night, just before I turned in at the hotel. A simple message, nothing more than an update between neighboring ranchers, but it hit like a damn freight train.
She’s home. Staying with Wyatt for a while. Thought you’d want to know.
Hell yes, I wanted to know.
It’s been years since I’ve seen her in person. Years since that last hug goodbye when she headed off to chase her career in the city. We kept in touch—FaceTime calls, late-night texts, birthdays remembered—but distance has a way of dulling even the sharpest connection over time.
Except with Lacey, it never dulled.
If anything, the years apart only sharpened everything I’d kept buried long before she ever left.
Frank clears his throat, dragging my attention back to the present. “So, we can lock in delivery on the second Monday of next month. Does that work for you, Colton?”
I glance at the contract in front of me. The numbers are solid. It’s a good deal. Normally I’d haggle for sport, but right now I just want to wrap this up and hit the road.
“Second Monday works,” I say, reaching for the pen. “Let’s get it on paper.”
Frank chuckles, leaning back as I scribble my signature. “You’re easy to deal with, Colton. Your daddy raised you right.”