"Anytime, dear. Now, let's get my troublemaker some of the good stuff..."
The front door chimes again, and Gabriel walks in wearing his uniform and an expression of focused determination. His blue eyes find mine immediately, and the heat in themmakes my pulse quicken despite the fact that we were together just hours ago.
"Hey, trouble," he says, that slight smile playing on his lips. "Ready to go home?"
Before I can respond, the door chimes again and Colt appears, his green eyes flicking between Gabriel and me with barely concealed irritation.
"Actually," Colt says, his voice carefully casual, "I was thinking Lucy might want to stay here tonight."
The tension in the room ratchets up several degrees. Gabriel's expression doesn't change, but I can see the tightening around his eyes, the way his hand moves to rest on his belt in a gesture that's probably unconscious but definitely territorial.
"She's been staying at my place for medical reasons," Gabriel says, his voice carrying just enough authority to remind everyone he's the sheriff. "Those reasons haven't changed."
"Haven't they?" Colt challenges, taking a step closer. "It looks like Lucy's recovered just fine. Maybe it's time she had some options about where she spends her nights."
The bell chimes a third time, and Beau walks in carrying a bouquet of bright yellow sunflowers that seem to bring actual sunshine into the increasingly tense room. His gray eyes take in the scene with quick assessment, but his expression remains carefully neutral.
"Afternoon," he says to Gabriel and Colt with polite distance, then turns to me with something warmer. "I brought you these. Thought they might brighten up the clinic."
The sunflowers are perfect, bold and cheerful and somehow exactly right. Looking at them, I think about what they represent.
Strength. Loyalty. Unwavering brightness even in difficult conditions. Everything I want to be. Everything I want us to be together.
"They're beautiful," I say, accepting the bouquet with hands that shake slightly. "Thank you."
"I was hoping," Beau continues, his voice quieter now, more intimate despite the audience, "that you might want to come back to the ranch tonight. For dinner. I make a mean pot roast, and I thought we could watch the sunset from the hill."
The offer hangs in the air like a challenge, and I can feel the temperature in the room dropping by degrees. Gabriel's jaw tightens. Colt's hands clench into fists at his sides. And Beau stands perfectly still, waiting for my answer with that controlled patience that somehow makes him more intimidating than either of the other men's obvious tension.
Behind the reception desk, Mrs. Cross watches the drama unfold with undisguised fascination. When she catches my eye, she gives me a barely perceptible wink and mouths "Good luck, honey" before making her exit.
"So," Gabriel says, his voice deceptively calm, "we're back to this."
"Back to what?" Colt asks, but there's an edge to his tone that suggests he knows exactly what Gabriel means.
"Back to competing for her attention instead of figuring out how to share it."
The word 'share' seems to electrify the air between them. Beau's eyes narrow slightly. Colt takes another step forward. And Gabriel's hand moves from his belt to cross his arms over his chest in a gesture that's pure authority.
"Maybe," Beau says quietly, "the question isn't about sharing. Maybe it's about what Lucy wants."
All three pairs of eyes turn to me, and suddenly I'm the center of attention in a way that makes my skin prickle with awareness and anxiety in equal measure. This is what I was afraid of. This moment when their careful cooperation dissolves into competition, when I'm forced to choose between them.
"I..." I start, then stop, looking at each of their faces in turn. Gabriel with his protective intensity. Colt with his barely leashed frustration. Beau with his quiet determination.
The sunflowers in my arms seem to grow heavier as the silence stretches, filled with unspoken challenges and demands I'm not sure I'm ready to navigate.
And as the three men continue to stare at me, waiting for an answer I don't know how to give, I realize that Mrs. Cross was right about one thing.
Life is too short to waste on what-ifs.
But sometimes the biggest risk isn't taking a chance on love. Sometimes it's admitting you want it all.
30
Colt
Every muscle in my body aches like I've been stomped by a bull as I pull up to the clinic, exhaustion settling into my bones after a day that started very early and hasn't quit punishing me since.
