“Yes, ma’am,” I shout back, patting the folder tucked under my arm.
“Good. And breathe, sweetheart. You look like you’re about to faint.”
I force a smile. “I’m fine.”
I’m not fine, not even close.
I barely slept last night, not because of the trauma dreams, for once, but because Cole’s voice from yesterday keeps looping in my mind.
Thanks… for everything.
And that tone… That tone that felt like he was letting me inside a part of him that no one else sees. I shake the thought off. This is a business day, a family day, a decision day. Not… whatever else he and I are becoming.
The barn smells like hay and old wood, mixed with fresh paint and expensive cologne—the visiting companies’ attempt to impress. The Morgan barn has never hosted something this formal before. Banners hang from rafters. Chairs line up in rows. There’s even a projector screen. Quinn put a lot of effort into this.
I step forward just as Daisy races toward me, braids flying. “Aunt El! Uncle Beck says the snacks are for AFTER the presentations, but I think that’s unfair.”
“It absolutely is,” I agree solemnly. “We should sue.”
She beams, taking my hand.
My family—God, my family is loud today. Zane is double-checking structural load notes with Dad, Ava is holding baby Luella while whisper-singing something that sounds suspiciously like a lullaby remix, Jace and Tessa are scouting security pathways like this is a CIA briefing, and Beck… Beck is talking far too loudly to a contractor about roof slopes.
And then Cole walks in. Everything in me stops.
He’s wearing dark jeans, a clean button-down, and his best pair of boots. His hair is actually combed, which already makes him look like a man who tried. But the more heartbreaking part is the way he carries himself.
His shoulders squared, jaw clenched, eyes scanning the room like it’s a battlefield. He’s nervous. Really, really nervous.
I break away from the crowd and meet him halfway. “You okay?” I ask softly.
“I’m good,” he lies.
I tilt my head. “Try again.”
He clears his throat, glancing at the other companies setting up glossy boards and digital models. “I feel like I’m about to puke.”
“There it is,” I whisper, patting his arm. “Honesty.”
He huffs something that almost resembles a laugh. “I’m serious, Shiloh. I haven’t presented to a room this big since… hell, ever.”
“You’ve presented to most of these people before,” I remind him. “Maybe not all at once, but you’ve worked with my family for years. You’ve got this.”
He shakes his head. “It’s different this time.”
“Why?”
His eyes meet mine—warm brown, but with a tension humming underneath. “Because this time, it matters. I’m staking everything on this.”
My breath stutters, but before I can say anything else, the enemy arrives. Calista and Toby walk in like they’re making an entrance at a red-carpet premiere. Calista’s heels clack against the wooden floor. Toby’s smirk spreads instantly.
“Cole,” Calista coos, smiling like a viper. “Ready to embarrass yourself?”
His whole body tightens. I step closer to him, shoulder to shoulder, making sure not to touch him. But it’s close enough that he feels it.
“Calista,” I reply sweetly. “Did you practice that line all morning? Sounds exhausting.”
Calista blinks. Toby glares. Cole’s lips twitch, but he doesn’t respond. I take that as a win.
