I point my finger at her. “Yep.” I take advantage of the orange juice and drink half of the glass. The cold sweetness is perfect. Being around them is so comfortable and regardless of why I’m here, they make me feel like I belong, not like I’m here to take their home. “Did I hear talk about wedding cakes when I walked in?”
Hallie looks over her shoulder, excitement in her brown eyes, “Yes, I’m going to make Sloane’s wedding cake. I’m so excited.” Her happiness is contagious, and I can't help the smile forming on my face.
The warmth and inclusiveness I’m feeling right now has my inner child lounging on a sunny beach somewhere with a smile, and her face is tipped up to the sun.
My eyes move back to Sloane, who looks happy that Hallie is so happy. “Oh yeah? When’s the big day?”
Her cheeks turn pink, and the edges of her lips tip up, “We want to do something small outside here on the ranch when it warms up a little, maybe in April or May.”
“How exciting! Will you be wearing a traditional wedding dress, or will it be more casual?” I love weddings. When I was a teenager, being a wedding planner was my dream. But my father quickly let me know there was no money in silly, little girl endeavors like that.
That’s when I remember I’m talking to them as if I’m not the asshole sent here to get them to give up their ranch, ASAP preferably. Guilt turns the orange juice I just drank to acid in my stomach and my inner child huffs and slams the door in my face.
“I think I want a casual barn ceremony.” Her eyes start to sparkle as she talks. “One of the magazines I bought gave me some really good ideas…” Her voice trails off as Mr. Harlow, Gray, Mason, and Jax walk into the room and her smile gets even bigger. “Good morning.”
They're all dressed in layers and carrying hats and coats that they toss on the breakfast nook table and chairs like they’ve done it a million times. Gray’s eyes slide past me, his focus moving to the plates of food set across the counter.
The flannel shirt he has on today is black and gray over a black t-shirt, and leather gloves are hanging out of the back pocket of the jeans hugging his hips and thighs. His beard is just longer than a scruff and his plump lips are pressed into a tight line, a whisper of what those lips would feel like against mine floats across my thoughts.
I push that thought down deep. There will never be anything between me and this man who can’t stand the sight of me.
Mr. Harlow is the first to speak, snapping me out of my thoughts about soft lips and my head turns in his direction. “It smells good in here, what’ve we got?” He walks over to the island and stands next to me to survey the dishes on the counter. He reaches over and plucks a strip of bacon from a plate and takes a bite before he winks at me.
The easygoing way they all move around each other and the warmth between them makes the familiar ache for a real family bloom in my chest. Mason walks around the island and pulls Sloane into him and shamelessly kisses her in front of everyone before he moves over to Marley and kisses the top of her head.
He doesn’t touch Hallie, but says, “Mornin’ Hallie.”
She looks over her shoulder with a smile. “Mornin’.”
Feeling like I’m intruding in a dynamic which clearly doesn’t include me, I take a step away from the island, but when I turn on my heel to get out of the way, my nose smashes into a very hard, broad chest. My head bounces back and pain spiderwebs across my forehead and nose as tears fill my eyes, I cup my hand over my stinging injury from yesterday as I stumble backward.
Big hands grab my arms to hold me steady and I look up into warm hazel eyes. Gray squats and looks in my eye that’s not covered by my hand. “You okay?”
The heat from his hands is soaking through the sweater and the flannel shirt I’m wearing, searing into my skin. “Uh, yeah, I’m fine.” I try to take a step back, but the hold on my arms doesn’t loosen. That’s when I feel the trail of warm blood sliding down my wrist from my palm.
His eyes track the blood on my wrist, and his eyebrows come together, his voice is angry. “You’re not fine. Sit.” He spins me around and pushes me into a chair at the breakfast nook table. “Marley. Wet towel, please.” His deep voice is soft, the same tone he used yesterday when he took control after he carried me in the house.
“On it.” Marley softly calls and is at his side in two seconds with a wet dishtowel in her hand. Jax moves to her side and stands close without touching her. Without looking at him, she crosses her arms over her chest and takes a step away.
Behind Marley, I see Sloane clap her hand over her mouth and turn away before I hear Mason chuckle and say, “Come here, darlin’, before you lose your breakfast again.”
“I’m sorry.” I say mostly to Sloane, even though her back is now to me, for making her sick but also for interrupting everyone’s breakfast.
Gray’s fingers softly wrap around my wrist, sending sparks up my arm, and gently pulls my hand off my face to press the cold towel over the little gash over my eyebrow that reopened when I bumped into him.
He’s crouched in front of me and is focused on soaking up the blood. Smoke and sandalwood fill my nose and butterflies dance in my lower belly. He’s so close I can feel the heat of him and his breath tickles my chin.
His eyes flick to mine before focusing back on the towel, “Nothing to be sorry for.” The deep timbre of his voice, combined with his hand gently cupping my chin to turn my head so he can see better, is spreading heat where my butterflies are dancing.
The ring of brown flecks surrounding the green in his eyes has me mesmerized, his hair and beard are lighter brown than Mr. Harlow’s hair and there is some red in his beard. It makes me wonder if he got his coloring from his mom.
For a big guy, his touch is gentle, despite the hard calluses on his hand, and the care he uses in holding the rag to the cut has my heart skipping beats in my chest. As I’m looking at the different colors of greens and browns, those eyes move to mine, his severe gaze locks on mine and I suck in a small breath when he doesn’t look away.
The hairs on my arms stand up as I get lost in those beautiful, earthy orbs. For several seconds, everything around us drops away, there are no contracts to sign, no land to buy, and no storm.
“I think that’s got it.” He says, breaking the spell, andlooks down to fold the bloody side of the rag in on itself and gently wipe the clean side down my cheek.
I miss the connection as soon as he looks away.
