Quinn
Once the dust settles and my idiot brother has left, I fall into the chair on the porch next to Pops. The setting sun paints the canvas of the sky in pinks and purples, and for a moment I’m caught off guard by the stark beauty of this place.
“Well, that livened things up a bit,” Pops remarks from his chair.
“I’m sure you were thoroughly entertained,” I say, rolling my eyes.
“Thoroughly. So, what’s your plan, kiddo?”
I close my eyes and suck in a long breath. “I think for the first time in my life, I don’t have a plan.”
The admission sits heavy in my chest, foreign and unsettling.
Pops’ mustache twitches as he frowns. “That doesn’t sound like you.”
He’s right. It doesn’t. I always have a plan, a list, a damn goal. Now, the only thing I can think about is Tripp and how it feels like he’s suddenly holding back—withholding a piece of himself. I’m not sure if he’s reserving it in self-preservation or simply because he made a promise that he’s unable to keep—that he knows as well as I do whatever is going on between us is more than just a bucket list.
His words echo through me like a death knell.
There’s nothing for you here.
My throat burns as I try to swallow. “Tripp told me to take the job in Denver.”
Pops nods. “I’m not surprised.”
I draw back. “You’re not?”
It had surprised the hell out of me. I’d expected him to beg me to stay with heartfelt confessions of undying love. Instead, he handed me Denver like he couldn’t get me out of here fast enough.
Pops smiles at me patiently. “Can’t imagine that boy ever doing anything that might keep you from chasing what you want. From being where you want to be.”
I exhale a noisy breath. Isn’t that exactly what I’d always wanted? A man who wasn’t put off by my career and my ambition—someone who wouldn’t try to keep me small, but who’d cheer me on every step of the way.
Pops’ eyes soften. “That boy’s mad about you.”
I hadn’t let myself hope he might feel the same way, but I’d seen the hurt and the brokenness etched on his features when he found out about Denver.
I glance at him hopefully. “You think so?”
Pops nods. “Always has been. Would have to be to keep sneaking in the second-floorwindow,” he mutters.
A breathless laugh escapes me. “Yeah, I guess so.”
Maybe I was an idiot for not realizing it sooner. Every moment with Tripp had been tinged with something heartachingly tender and weighted with an intensity that blew every relationship I’d ever been in out of the water. But I’d been stuck in my logic bubble—always focused on chasing the next goal, checking the next box. Never slowing down long enough tofeelit.
“It’s okay to change course sometimes, Quinnie girl. To find new things to care about. To let yourself want something different.”
I hum in agreement. Yeah, thatwouldbe okay—to change, to grow, to let myself want something more.
The more I think about Denver, the more I realize maybe it isn’t what I want anymore. Maybe I’ve outgrown the predictability, the straight lines and liminal spaces of the city. Maybe career aspirations and accolades don’t matter half as much as I thought.
These past weeks with Tripp, I’ve finally felt like I can breathe and be my entire self. He doesn’t fill a void—I was whole before I ever realized I loved him. But he makes my life fuller, brighter.
Wes came back to Cottonwood Creek and found a safe place to land on the ranch, doing what he loves most. I’ve found my safe place to land in Tripp Matthews.
Every part of me has shifted to make space for him, and if he were gone, those pieces would be forced to rearrange. The thought of that loss leaves me hollow.
Maybe everything I’ve been searching for has been right here in Cottonwood Creek all along. And that settled feeling I got when he gripped me in a tight hug, like he never wanted to let me go—maybe it was because he’s home to me. Steady and unwavering.
