But I am having the time of my life.
Much of that has to do with Sadie, who narrates like she’s announcing a horse race:
“He’s winning! No, wait… yes? Maybe. Miss Delaney, do you think Moose could play cornhole? He’d be so good!”
But the rest?
The rest is the men.
Boone, intense and beautiful in that carved out of stone way that makes my breath hitch.
Caleb, gentle and steady, soft smiles that knock the world off its axis.
Silas, wild and bright, eyes finding mine every time he says something ridiculous.
It should be overwhelming, and it is, but it’s warm too, like stepping into sunlight after months of cold.
I can’t stop smiling, can’t stop cheering, and definitely can’t stop noticing them.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Caleb
By the timethe music spills out of the barn and across the south pasture, I already know I’ve made a mistake.
Parties aren’t really my thing. Never have been. Too many people. Too much noise. Too much small talk, which has always felt worse than trying to dance in boots that don’t fit.
But tonight?
Tonight, the ranch is glowing. Lanterns swaying from beams, strings of lights stretched across fence posts, shadows flickering under the big harvest moon. The kind of night even I can’t hide from.
And Delaney…
Well.
She’s impossible to hide from, even in the dark.
It’s Silas’s fault. It always is. He’d barreled into my room earlier, tossed me a clean button-down shirt, and declared, “If you show up looking like a barn cryptid to my party, I’m disowning you.”
I told him no one comes to these things to look at me.
He said, “Yeah? Tell that to the chef who hasn’t stopped glancing at you since this afternoon.”
And I’m still thinking about that.
Even now, standing half in shadow as the party swells around me, I scan the crowd for her before I can stop myself.
I find her instantly.
She’s near the picnic tables, laughing with Ivy and Olivia, long hair tumbling down her back as she gestures with one hand and tries to stop Sadie from double-fisting cookies with the other. Lantern light catches the curve of her cheek, the shape of her mouth.
My chest tugs low, a magnetic pull that I pretend I don’t understand.
Boone sees it too. I know he does, because I catch him looking at her the exact same way. Jaw tight, eyes soft, trying not to admit something even to himself.
Silas?
He notices everything. And he’s leaning against the barn wall, smirking at both of us because we’re the least subtle men alive.
