“I meant with Dylan.”
I groan. “The truth? I don’t know. He’s infuriating. He’s stubborn and grumpy and would throw the ranch and me under the bus if a chance to play for the Stormhawks came up.” I fall silent and take a long sip of my coffee. Swallowing back the thoughts I can’t say to Flic.
Like how he didn’t hesitate to step into the rain and coax me down from the roof of the trailer last night. How his hand felt warm and solid in mine as he pulled me gently into the ranch house.
Or how when I told him about my past, it felt like he listened—really listened. There was no judgment in his face either.
Or how he notices things about me. How I take my coffee with a splash of cold water first thing in the mornings so I can drink it fast. The way my day isn’t done until I’ve checked over every horse, and how he’s started doing it with me, shortening the time before I can rest.
If I’m honest with myself, I’ve noticed things about him too. The way he rubs a hand over his beard when he’s lost in thought or unsure what to do. How his jaw tightens when he’s holding something back. The way his smile is rare, but when it comes, it sends me spiraling. The way his hands are strong and capable but when they brushed against my skin last night, they were gentle. Somewhere in the weeks we’ve spent together, Dylan has stopped being the pro athlete with the ego and the chip on his shoulder. Instead, he’s become a constant presence in my thoughts, in my space. And I hate how much that scares me.
I shake my head, pushing the thoughts away. I can’t afford to get caught up in this. Not when I know better than to let my guard down.
“And I’ve got to think about Madison,” I continue. “What would bringing another unstable man into her life do to her?”
“But Mad is crazy for Dylan, right?” Flic asks.
“Yeah, she is. But he’s hardly reliable, is he? He promised he’d build her a rope swing and he hasn’t. Once again, a man lets my daughter down and it’s up to me to pick up the pieces. Plus, we’re leaving?—”
“Kind of makes sense he might not build a rope swing for a kid he’s never going to see again after this weekend. I still can’t believe he asked you to leave when these six weeks are up. I mean, he hasn’t found a buyer, has he?”
I cringe a little, sipping my coffee and wishing I could hide inside it for what’s coming next.
Flic’s brows shoot up. “What?”
“He didn’t exactly ask me to leave… I told him, no matter what, I’d be leaving.”
“Wait. You quit?”
“I didn’t quit. I…” My voice trails off, and Flic rolls her eyes. “You have no idea how impossible he is. Just look at these messages he sent me an hour ago.” I unlock my phone and shove the screen at Flic, expecting her outrage to mirror mine when I first got Dylan’s message.
Instead, her ringing laughter fills The Hay Barn. “Yeah, I really hate it when people fix things for me, too. And hello? I spent most of my childhood weekends and into my teens at the ranch while Mom and Dad ran this place—well, Mom, anyway. Harry and Mama practically raised me. I know how impossible Dylan is. Just how I know how impossible you are too, Iz. Has it occurred to you that he hasn’t talked about you staying because you’ve made it abundantly clear to him that you want to leave? And I bet you haven’t talked to him about wanting to stay, have you? You’re seriously risking leaving the ranch and the horsesyou love to move back in with your parents—your absolute last resort—because you won’t tell him you made a mistake.”
Her words hit me with the same force as the gust of rain-soaked wind on the trailer roof. For a moment I’m unbalanced and can’t answer.
“He hasn’t even told me he’s keeping the ranch going,” I say quietly. “He hasn’t even looked for a new ranch hand to replace—” I stop mid-sentence as the smile slips from Flic’s face.
“What?” I ask.
“He is looking,” she says slowly, pulling out her phone and swiping to a message Dylan sent her. “Apparently, he’s talking to Ron Winters. He wanted to know if I thought Ron was a good guy.”
I tense. My mood darkening. “Ron does cattle.”
“Yeah, but Ron’s nephew, Travis, is looking for work on a horse ranch.”
My stomach twists, my anger suddenly hot. I shove my coffee cup away, the stool scraping loudly as I stand. “So he’s keeping the horses and hasn’t bothered to tell me! And now he’s hiring a kid with no experience who he thinks can do my job. I’m going to kill him.”
Flic rolls her eyes, unbothered by my change in mood. She pulls me into a tight hug and I don’t protest even with the heat scorching through my body.
Flic gives me a final squeeze before stepping back. “Try not to actually kill him. I don’t want to spend my Friday night bailing you out.”
“I can’t promise anything.” With that, I shout a thanks, which she waves away as I storm out of the bar, teeth clenched and fists balled.
I knew this was coming. Iknew.
How dare he? How dare he kiss me like he did this morning and then line up my replacement before my coffee’s even cold?
Even as I slam the truck door and gun the engine, I know my annoyance isn’t entirely fair. I told him I was leaving when my time on the ranch was up and I haven’t exactly said I wanted to stay. But it doesn’t dull the ache in my chest. I want him towantme to stay. I can’t believe I’ve spent the morning practically swooning over that man. Dylan Sullivan is about to regret the day he became a rancher.
