I shut the trunk and nod toward her vehicle.
“Just follow me,” I say. “I’ll take you out there and help you get situated.”
She slips into the driver’s seat and pulls out behind my truck, her headlights cutting through the night. It’s late enough that the roads are mostly empty. The farther we get from the bar and the center of town, the quieter everything becomes.
Gravel crunches beneath my tires as we turn onto the property. It’s too dark to see much beyond the outline of the barn and the fencing that stretches out into the fields.
She glances around when she steps out.
“Are those… cows?” She smiles, nodding toward the pasture.
“Yeah.” I smile. “We have cows, goats, and horses. You can meet them tomorrow in the daylight.”
Her smile widens. One of those that she doesn’t give away easily, and my chest aches with the urge to close the space between us.
We leave most of her stuff in the car for now and just grab a couple of bags before we head inside. The barn smells like hay and wood. It’s a scent I’ve known my whole life, but seeing her take it all in feels new again.
I take the stairs two at a time, glancing back to make sure she’s behind me.
I open the door and flip on the light as we step inside. The glow spills across the worn wood floors and exposed beams.
The kitchen opens into the living area with dark cabinets and a wide island with a few stools tucked underneath. A leather sectional is situated in the center of the room with a plaid throw blanket draped over the back.
A thick rug stretches out beneath a coffee table, and a stone fireplace is centered across the wall, stacked with wood ready to burn.
“We use it as a guesthouse when family comes to visit. Sometimes friends,” I tell her, setting her bags down on the island.
She looks around slowly, taking it all in. “It’s… really nice.”
“It’s all yours,” I say. “For as long as you need it.”
I don’t miss the way her shoulders relax, as though all the tension slowly drains out of her posture.
“My sister lives in the dorms on campus now,” I explain. “So it’s just my parents out here most of the time. But Atlee and I come out here to help with chores often.”
She nods. “I’d like to help out too.”
I don’t bother telling her that it won’t be necessary.
Her fingers brush along the edge of the counter as she looks around. I show her the rest of the place, pointing out the basics like the bathroom and the bedroom tucked back behind a sliding barn door.
“Thank you for letting me stay here. I promise, this won’t be forever,” she says softly, almost like she’s reassuring herself. “We’ll figure out who’s behind all of this, and then I’ll be out of your hair.”
I nod, because it’s easier than telling her the truth.
The idea of her going back above the bar or anywhere else alone twists something low in my stomach. I’ve learned my lesson, though. Trying to tell her what she should or shouldn’t do is the fastest way to make her dig her heels in. The last thing I want is to take that choice away from her.
So I keep it to myself. For now.
As I reach up into the hallway closet and grab a few extra blankets from where they are stored, I catch her looking at me again. Or I guess where my shirt rode up.
It’s the same look she had earlier, when my hands were on her, and the world narrowed to only the two of us.
The look in her eyes is one that says she’s already decided to go with it. She’s just waiting for me to make the first move.
I set the blankets down on the arm of the couch and turn toward her.
She doesn’t look away, and that’s all it takes.
