Pawhuska, Oklahoma
Friday Night
"Sometimes you have to go back to the beginning to find your way forward."
– Unknown
***
The barn smelled like home now. Not the dusty allergy-trigger from three weeks ago, but something grounding—hay, leather, horses settling in.
I’d pulled Winnie in here deliberately. Away from the porch light and Pops’ eyes. The things I needed to say were too big for an audience.
Her hand was warm in mine, calloused and small. When she let me pull her deeper into the aisle, something in my chest clicked into place.
She leaned against Daisy’s stall, tipping her head back. That half-smile—the one driving me insane—played on her lips. Her crop top left her shoulders bare, skin glowing gold, and those cutoffs… Christ. I was officially out of willpower.
I was in deep shit. Not just attracted. Drowning.
“So?” she prompted, arching an eyebrow. “You dragged me out here. Spill, city boy.”
I swallowed hard. Pops’ advice from the cemetery rang in my ears. Jump, and hope she catches you.
“Yesterday. What I said on the porch.” I stepped closer until the air between us felt charged. “I wasn’t just flirting. I wasn’t trying to get a rise out of you.”
Winnie’s breath hitched. “Beau…”
“I meant it. I think you’re incredible.” My fingers grazed her jawline, watching her eyes flutter shut. “I think I’m falling for you, Winnie. After hearing Pops talk about Nana today, about building something real…” I swallowed past the lump. “I want that. With you. Even if it’s messy. Even if—”
My phone erupted.
Not a normal ringtone—the shrill, demanding trill I’d set for “High Priority” contacts years ago. It cut through the moment like a chainsaw.
“Shit.” I fumbled to silence it. “Sorry. Ignore that—”
Buzz. Buzz-buzz.
“Jesus.” I hit decline. “I was saying—”
Buzz buzz buzz buzz.
“You sure that’s not important?” Winnie asked, stepping back. “That sounds persistent.”
“It’s spam. I’m turning it off.”
I yanked the phone out.
INCOMING CALL: SOLENE
Winnie saw the name. I watched the light die in her face.
“I…” I stared at the screen, paralyzed.
“Answer it,” Winnie said. Her voice went flat.
“No. I don’t want to—”
“Beau, if she’s calling four times, answer the damn phone.”
