Page 9 of Promised Cowboy
“Thought you could use a hand,” he says.
“You always show up just in time to avoid the heavy lifting, don’t you?” I tease, shifting the bag of feed slightly for effect.
He grins. “Can’t ruin my reputation, now can I?”
Before I can respond, he steps in and takes the bag from my hands with effortless ease, his fingers briefly brushing against mine. The contact sends a spark up my arm that I pretend not to feel.
“Let me get that for you,” he says softly, his voice closer now.
I watch him carry the bag like it weighs nothing and set it inside the shed. His broad shoulders flex with the motion, and I find myself biting my bottom lip before quickly looking away.
This is dangerous ground.
We fall into an easy rhythm after that, working side by side as we check the fence line along the north pasture. The quiet stretches between us are comfortable at first, filled with the sounds of birdsong and the occasional creak of the fence wire as we test each post.
But as the minutes tick by, the quiet shifts into something heavier. The awareness of him standing close, the scent of his cologne mixed with leather and sun-warmed skin, the way his fingers move deftly along the wire—it all pulls at me in ways I hadn’t expected.
“So,” he says after a while, his voice breaking the stillness, “how long do you think you’ll stay this time?”
I glance over, surprised by the question, though I shouldn’t be. “I’m not sure yet.”
He watches me closely, as if measuring every word. “You know you don’t have to rush back. Shadowbrook’s not exactly going anywhere.”
I smile faintly, trying to keep my voice light. “Neither is the city.”
He nods, but there’s something thoughtful in his expression. “That place never really suited you, Lace.”
I feel my breath hitch slightly. “You don’t think so?”
“I know so.” His tone is steady, like it’s not even a question in his mind. “You always belonged here. With your family. With this kind of life.”
I shift my gaze back to the fence post I’m working on, fingers fumbling for a moment with the wire. My pulse skips. His words settle deep inside me, stirring feelings I’m not ready to name.
“It’s not always that simple,” I say softly.
“No,” he agrees. “It’s not.” A pause. “But sometimes simple’s exactly what a person needs.”
He steps closer, reaching for the next section of wire. Our hands meet again, fingers brushing. This time, neither of us pulls away immediately. The warmth of his skin against mine lingers, sending a soft hum through my chest.
I glance up at him, meeting his eyes fully now.
There’s no teasing in his expression. No playfulness. Just steady, quiet certainty.
“I’ve waited a long time to have you standing here again,” he says.
The words land with weight, pressing into me with undeniable force.
“Colton—”
“I’m not pushing,” he cuts in gently. “I know you’ve got your own decisions to make. But I need you to know where I stand.”
The honesty in his voice wraps around me. There’s no pressure in his tone, no demands. Just truth.
“I never forgot the promise we made, Lace,” he adds softly. “Not once.”
The old memory surfaces again, vivid as if it happened yesterday. Sitting under the stars, laughing, making a pact we were too young to understand. If we’re still single at thirty…
My throat tightens.