Gliding my hand along the stall door, I watch Lawson, Jasper, and Beau from across the barn. They’re so different from the men I grew up around. Different from Aleksandr and Maxim. Different from every cold, sharp-edged Bratva man who ever looked at me like I was a tool or a burden or a body they thought they had a right to lay claim to.
The three of them move freely. Fully alive in their own skin. They smile wide and often. Even Lawson. They touch their horses with a reverence I have never seen. And they work like they’ve got purpose buried in their bones and pride weathered into their hands.
In only a day, I can tell—there’re no threats. No hidden motives. No calculating cruelty.
Justmen.
Real men. Good men.
Jasper is the first to notice me watching. He gives me a lazy, crooked grin from where he’s stacking hay bales with enough reckless enthusiasm to make me nervous. He laughs loudly, works quickly, and moves like he’s got adrenaline humming in his blood. Beau is brushing down one of the mares at the far end of the barn, humming something under his breath, warm and solid and steady. And Lawson… Lawson looks born for this. He’s confident. Focused. Every movement purposeful. A man fully settled in his own skin.
They’re so unfiltered. Unafraid. It’s almost strange to watch.
A soft nudge presses into my shoulder, gaining my attention. Griffin, the brown-and-white paint gelding Lawson told me to “give space,” is standing so close his whiskers are tickling my arm.
“Oh,” I breathe softly. “Hello there, handsome.”
Lawson appears at my side so fast I swear it’s like he materializes out of thin air. His brows are pinched, and his arms are crossed over his chest. “Well I’ll be damned,” he mutters. “Grif doesn’t let anybody in his space.”
I blink. “He lets you.”
“Yeah, well, he tolerates me. Sometimes.” One corner of Lawson’s mouth lifts. “Probably because he can sense our similar disdain for most people. But he damn sure doesn’t walk up to strangers. Especially when I’m not around.”
Griffin nudges my shoulder again, more insistent this time, as if to prove a point. I laugh softly and slowly stroke his broad cheek. Lawson watches the movement like he’s trying to make sense of the anomaly.
After a moment, a question bubbles up, one that’s been in the back of my mind for most of the day. “Lawson. Can I ask you something?”
He glances over at me, jaw tightening the way I’ve noticed it does when he’s deciding how much of himself to give to me. “‘Course.”
“I’ve met you, Jasper, Beau…” My gaze flicks across the barn to where the two of them are still horsing around like teenagers. “But I still haven’t met Lincoln. Where’s he been all day?”
“He’s been upstairs in the office handling some business with our banker and signing off on some cattle sale contracts,” Lawson says, nodding at the ceiling above us. “Linc deals with most of the paperwork and legal stuff for the ranch, as well as a lot of Jasper’s contracts. He’ll be at the house for dinner.”
“Oh,” I nod. “So he’s the serious one around here.”
That earns me the smallest curve of a smile. “He’s a lot of things. But serious isn’t the word I’d use. He’d probably argue with me about that, though. Ya know, lawyers and all.”
I smile, imagining the fourth man I have yet to meet. Wondering what another dynamic will feel like. Another energy.
But before I can ask anything more, Griffin bumps me again, so hard I stumble lightly into Lawson’s side. His hand grips my elbow automatically, steadying me.
“Careful,” he murmurs. “Looks like he might claim you as his if you’re not careful.”
“Is that a bad thing?” I ask, laughing.
“For him?” he mutters. “Not at all.” Then quieter, almost to himself, “For me? Remains to be seen.”
My cheeks warm as I pretend I didn’t hear the last part and say, “For a horse that doesn’t like anyone he sure seems to be content with being my new buddy.”
“I’m not lying. He won’t even look at Beau.”
The man himself snorts as he walks toward us from across the barn. “He kicked at me last week.”
Jasper chimes in next to him, “He kicked ateveryonelast week.”
But Griffin only sighs as I go back to stroking his coat, as if he can’t believe they would speak so poorly of him.
Lawson shakes his head, almost smiling. “Eight years we’ve had this damn horse. Eight. You’re the first person he’s taken to without bribery.”
