Clint looks up, smirking. “It’s not bad. Bit too much cumin, though.”
Sawyer points his spoon at him. “You’re lucky I like you.”
Reid leans toward Charlie, stage whispering, “Always pretend to like Sawyer’s cooking, no matter what. Keeps the peace.”
Charlie nods solemnly, like he’s being handed top-secret cowboy intel. “Okay.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “You’re all terrible influences.”
“Hey, we’re good influences,” Reid protests. “We’re teaching him about teamwork, resilience… basic ranch life.”
“Ranch life, huh?” I raise an eyebrow. “Because what I’m seeing is three grown men arguing about seasoning and pretending to be role models.”
Reid gasps dramatically, pressing a hand to his heart. “You wound me, Dakota.”
Sawyer grins. “She’s not wrong, though.”
Clint’s watching me now. Quietly, but there’s that half-smile again. The one that feels like it’s looking straight through me.
“Don’t let ’em fool you,” he says. “They mean well. They just… talk too much.”
Reid tosses a napkin at him. “Says the guy who barely talks at all.”
“I talk when it counts,” Clint replies evenly, his eyes still on me.
And just like that, I forget how to breathe.
I swallow hard, trying to push past the sudden rush of heat in my chest, the way my pulse spikes when Clint looks at me like that, as if he’s seeing right through me.
I force a smile, pretending to laugh at something Charlie says, anything to distract me from the suffocating awareness of his presence.
But my heart pounds in my chest, too fast, too heavy. I keep telling myself it’s fine, it’s just Clint being Clint. He smiles at everyone in that way. He’s just being friendly.
But deep down, I know better.
Every time he looks at me like that, everything shifts. The atmosphere between us intensifies, and the space between us becomes charged.
I don’t know what it means, but it makes my skin tingle and my mind scramble to catch up.
“Mom, I wanna ride a horse again,” Charlie says excitedly. “Can I now?”
I force a laugh, my chest tight. “Not now, buddy. It’s getting dark. Maybe another day. We’ll see.”
Clint raises an eyebrow, his eyes glinting with that silent humor. “If he’s anything like Reid, he’ll be hanging off a horse’s neck before midnight.”
Reid laughs. “No doubt! We’d have him barrel racing in no time.”
The table bursts into laughter, but I can’t shake the weight in my chest.
I glance at Clint again, and my heart stutters. His smile, the way his eyes flick back to me. He’s waiting for me to say something. Or maybe he’s just hoping I will.
But I can’t.
I stand up abruptly, overwhelmed by the urge to move.
“I, uh…” I start, then stop myself, trying to find a reason that doesn’t sound like I’m trying to escape. “I think I’ll just… use the bathroom.”
It’s an excuse, plain and simple. And I know it won’t fool anyone, especially not Clint. But I need to get away. I need a moment to breathe.
