I want to die. I groan and drop my head back against the seat. “Has everyone in Silver Spoon Falls heard about that?”
Cole laughs. “Not everyone. The cowboys who were there that night told me about it.” He swings the truck down Main Street. “Heard half the hands say you walked in like you owned the place. Blaze said you threatened to tase Flint if he got handsy.”
“Oh my God.” My face goes beet red. “I’m never going to live that down.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Cole laughs. “All the guys were impressed as hell. You made their week. Nothing those boys like more than someone who can go toe-to-toe with Flint. Most people are terrified of him when he’s pissed.”
“I’m glad I could entertain them.” My snark comes out before I’m able to stop it.
Cole just grins, not the least bit bothered. “You’ll fit right in around here. The ranch has a strict ‘no doormats allowed’ policy. If you can keep Flint on his toes, you might be promoted to legend.”
I snort. “Being a legend is a goal of mine.”
He just shrugs those linebacker shoulders. “Gotta love goals.” He pulls the truck into my apartment lot and parks, eyes sweeping the buildings like he’s casing the place for a SWAT raid.
He walks me across the patchy parking lot, boots crunching on glass and gravel. His giant body somehow blocks every possible line of sight to me. I almost laugh at how intense he looks. “You know I’ve lived here for four months without any issues,” I tell him as we climb the rickety stairs.
“It’s a goddamn miracle,” he grumbles under his breath as we reach my door. He puts one huge palm on the peeling paint and says, “I don’t want to invade your space, but I’m standing right here, okay? If you need anything, just shout.”
My stomach flutters as I nod like a dork. “Thank you.”
I grab a duffel bag off my closet shelf and start pilling in everything that will fit—three pairs of jeans, a handful of sweatshirts, all the underwear I can find, and, at the last minute, a short red dress that I bought at Target and never had the courage to wear. Then I head to the bathroom and pack up my makeup bag, my extra phone charger, and, on a whim, the battered copy ofLittle Womenthat’s followed me from childhood through college and beyond. It’s the only thing I own that feels like home.
When I step out the door, I find Cole is leaning against the wall, arms crossed, watching the street with a lazy kind of alertness.“I’m ready.” I hold up my two bags, and he reaches over to take them from me. “I can carry my bags.”
“Not in this lifetime,” he mutters and signals for me to follow him back out to the truck.
The ride to the hardware store only takes five minutes. It’s crazy how we go from the questionable part of town to the heart of town so quickly.
“I’ll be right back,” Cole says as he hops out of the truck. I watch the door close behind him and exhale. Hard. My nerves are all over the place, ping-ponging over my change in circumstances.
Cole comes back a few minutes later and slips a bag into the backseat.
The ride back is quieter, but not in a bad way. The sun is setting over the hills, turning the sky orange and gold, and I watch the world blur past.
As we pull up to Flint’s place, Cole puts the truck in park and turns to me.
“You’ve got a good man there,” he says. “He acts tough, but he’d do anything for the people he cares about.”
I swallow hard. “Thanks. For everything.”
Cole grins, genuine and a little mischievous. “No problem. Taking you to town got me out of listening to ranch hands argue over who has to wash dishes after dinner.”
I laugh, and for the first time all day, I feel like maybe I’m not completely in over my head.
He grabs my bags, carries them to the front door, and sets them down with a respectful nod. “See you around, Saoirse.”
I watch him go, heart thumping, then turn to face the house.
Inside, the air is warm, thick with the scent of beef stew. I drop my bags on my bed and get to work making myself presentable. I take a quick shower and wrangle my hair into a halfway decent ponytail. Then I throw on a clean outfit and head for the kitchen, where the crockpot is still humming.
I take a deep breath, roll up my sleeves, and get to work setting the table. I find a candle in one of the drawers and light it, watching the flame dance in the gathering dusk.
For the first time in my life, I feel… settled. Not because of the house, or the food, or even the man. But because, for once, I’m not struggling just to survive. I finally have someone in my corner.
The front door swings open, and I hear the heavy stomp of boots in the entryway.
“Saoirse?” Flint’s voice, low and warm, curls through the house like a promise.
