She tilts her head slightly, the faintest smile touching her mouth. “Trust me.”
The words hit harder than they should. I search her face for doubt, hesitation, or something that tells me she’s asking permission instead of claiming space. I find none.
“Alright,” I say finally. “I’ll be back.”
She doesn’t look up as she starts working. “Take your time.”
I step out of the barn, the door swinging shut behind me with a soft thud. Luke glances over as I rejoin him and Ben.
“All good?” he asks.
“Yes,” I say, almost reluctantly. “She’s got it.”
Luke twists the wire tight and steps back. “Prettiest ranch hand we’ve seen in a while.”
I don’t answer. My hands keep moving with wire. Before she came, Nicole felt distant. Like something I hadn’t decided how to reach for yet. Now she’s in my barn working. She didn’t just ask me to trust her. She showed me why I should.
I’ve trusted animals with less proof than she’s already given me. That’s what hits hardest. The storm took a few boards and some wire. What it gave me was harder to measure—a moment alone with her, a kiss that broke my rule, and the presence of a woman who didn’t hesitate to step into my world.
That feels like a risk. It also feels like the start of something I didn’t see coming.
Chapter 17
Harrison
Luke and Ben finish loading the last of the tools into the truck. Engines start. Headlights swing across the yard once, then disappear down the drive. Now, it’s only us.
Nicole closes the barn door with a careful pull, checking the latch before she steps back. Her sleeves are rolled up, hair pulled loose from its tie, damp from sweat and night air. She looks tired. She also looks like she belongs here. That thought feels dangerous.
“You don’t have to finish everything tonight,” I say, nodding toward the barn. “It’ll hold.”
She wipes her hands on her jeans and turns to me. “I know. I just wanted to make sure it was set.”
There’s a moment of pause. Both of us not sure what’s next. The road beyond the fence glistens under the lights, still slick from rain. Wind moves through the trees, quieter now. I should tell her goodnight, but I don’t want to.
“It’s late,” I say instead. “Roads might still be rough.”
“I’ll be fine,” she says. “Unless that wasn’t what you meant.”
She caught me. Of course, there is more to it. I inhale slowly, grounding myself the way I always do when something matters more than I’m ready for.
“You don’t have to rush out,” I say. “You could stay a bit. Warm up. Get something warm. I make delicious hot cocoa.”
Her eyes don’t soften. They sharpen.
“Are you asking because it makes sense,” she asks quietly, “or because you want me to?”
Ah, she’s left me no escape hatch. She only wants truth.
“I want you here,” I say.
Nicole doesn’t smile. She doesn’t step back.
She nods once. “Alright.”
We walk toward the house together, boots crunching over gravel. Inside, the lights come on one by one, casting a warm glow that feels almost too intimate after the night outside.
She watches as I remove my boots in the mud room and she does the same. I walk barefoot to the kitchen and get all my ingredients together. Still, she watches me. I can only wonder what’s on her mind.
