“I try to be.” He’s watching me in the reflection of the glass. “Not everyone sticks around to find out.”
I can tell there’s a story there, but he doesn’t offer it. So I don’t ask.
“The guest room is down the hall,” he says finally. “Clean towels are in the bathroom cabinet. If you need anything…”
“I’ll be fine.” I turn to face him, and suddenly we’re too close. Close enough to see the flecks of gold in his brown eyes. Close enough to smell cedar and rain and something distinctly him.
“I know you will.” His voice is low. “That’s not what I’m worried about.”
“What are you worried about?”
He holds my gaze for a long moment. There’s so much unspoken, but that’s impossible. We hardly know each other. Then he finally steps back, and I can breathe again.
“Nothing. I’m not worried about anything. Come on, it’s still early. I’ll start the fire.”
An hour later, we’re sitting across from each other in front of a roaring fireplace. Shadows dance across his face and soften thesharp lines. It makes him look almost unreal in the warm glow… not that he needed any help in the looking-sexy department.
The conversation flows easily. We keep it to safe topics, harmless stories, and nothing that should make my pulse skip. Yet every word he speaks feels like it’s tugging at something buried deep inside me that I didn’t even know existed.
It’s all surface level, but somehow it’s not. Not with him. It gets late, and I know I should end this. I should stand up and head to bed, but something in me can’t do it. I feel starved for this connection. I need to know everything about this man who has somehow captivated me with nothing more than quiet steadiness and those maddeningly patient eyes. So I push it.
Monotony usually isn’t my thing. Small talk bores me. Silence is worse. But with him? I’m hanging on every word. Every pause. Every shift of his gaze.
It’s ridiculous. It’s dangerous. It’s… intoxicating.
At some point, I let a yawn slip, and it breaks the spell we’ve been under. Walker glances toward the hallway, and something in his face shifts. It’s gentle and careful, like he’s setting down something fragile.
“We’ve got to call it. The sun’s going to be up before we know it.” He stands and puts a hand out to help me to my feet. “Goodnight, Eliza.”
The words are simple. Innocent. But they land in my chest with an absurd amount of force. My palm bubbles with fire long after he lets go. He walks me to the guest room and opens the door for me before disappearing down the hall.
Walker leaves nothing but the scent of cedar and rain lingering in the air. Now I’m standing in the dark with my heart pounding like I just ran full speed into a life I wasn’t expecting.
What the hell just happened? Get your shit together, Eliza. This is one night. Just one night. A blip. A nothing. Stop freaking out.
But as the wind howls against the cabin and the warmth of his home seeps into my bones, I feel something shift. It’s small and terrifying and undeniably real.
I have zero chance of falling asleep tonight.
6
boots and bitching podcast
Well, well, well… Sugar, she’s here. Y’all stop by and pull up a chair.
That’s right, Sagebrush Creek. The mystery Kingridge I told y’all about? She touched down at the ranch this afternoon, and honey, she did not disappoint. Designer coat. Red lips. Heels that probably cost more than my first car. The woman stepped out of that SUV like she was walking into a courtroom, not a cattle ranch.
And from what I hear, the meeting with her brother didn’t exactly go smoothly.
Word is that Danner refused to pack his bags and follow her back to California. Can’t say I blame him. That boy’s got a wife, a purpose, and more solar panels than sense. You don’t quit Texas, and he’s been here long enough to know it. He’s not going anywhere.
Eliza didn’t take the news well. Sources say there were words. Accusations. Hands flying… Some say there was even a slap delivered. I wasn’t there, y’all, it’s just what I heard. I didn’t believe our classy California girl was capable at first. But the more I thought about it, the more I could see it happening. The wounds run deep in that family, and she’s got Kingridgeblood running all through her. So I’ll let you decide whether or not Danner walked away with a handprint on his cheek.
Either way, my sources say she turned on her heels, ready to leave him behind. And that’s where things get really interesting.
I know y’all saw that storm rolling through… The one rattling your windows and turning our roads into ice rinks? Well, it seems Mother Nature had other plans for Ms. Eliza Kingridge tonight. She’s not making it back to that hotel in town. She’s not making it anywhere.
Instead, she’s stranded. Right there on Kingridge Ranch. And not just anywhere on the property, sugar. She’s holed up at the home of Mr. Walker Reed.
