19
ROWAN
Being home should’ve made everything feel better.
Instead, it just made everything feel more real, and a hell of a lot more scary.
The ranch stretched out around us just like it always had. Quiet, steady, and untouched by everything that had happened in town. The barn stood where it always had, the fences still lined the property, the horses grazing peacefully like nothing had changed.
It all looked the same, and yet so muchhadchanged.
I had done the one thing that I swore I wouldn’t—fall for someone.
It wasn’t that I didn’t believe in love. I did. I had seen the love my parents had for each other and all the small ways they showed it every day. I knew love was real. I knew that love made you go all gooey on the inside. That it changed your judgment. That it made thinking difficult, and your rationality go out the window. I knew it could make you not trust yourself and your judgment. I knew it could make you put your whole trust in another person
And that was what scared me.
I didn’t want to ever rely on other people. I didn’t want to put my faith and trust in someone who could let me down. Or worry if they would come through for me.
But mostly, I didn’t want to have my heart broken.
And yet there I was, falling for Tex.
A biker no less, and a criminal to boot.
I wasn’t stupid. I knew that the Kings weren’talwaysthe bad guys. I saw how they helped our small town in their own way. How they provided much needed funds to the local preschool when their roof collapsed. How they gifted thousands of dollars to Maria from our library when her insurance fell through and she couldn’t afford her doctors’ bills.
No, the Kings weren’t exactly the bad guys, but they weren’t exactly the good guys either.
Their legit “businesses” were all fronts, and those that weren’t fronts weren’t exactly the calling cards we wanted for this town. Strip clubs and casinos weren’t what we wanted tourists coming here for.
I groaned into the air and shook my head as I looked around.
My arm was bandaged tight, aching with every small movement. Even the simplest things, like pulling on a shirt or brushing my hair, felt frustratingly difficult.
And Tex, he had barely left my side.
He moved through the house like he belonged there, taking over without asking. Cooking for us both, checking on the horses and making sure they were looked after—even if it was just ordering the guys that he called prospects to clean out the stables and feed them. He made sure I took my meds and helped rebandage my arm. But mostly he watched me like I might disappear if he looked away for too long.
It should’ve annoyed me, but it didn’t.
It did something else instead. Something warmer. Something dangerous.
By late afternoon I stood in the bathroom staring at myself in the mirror. My hair was a tangled mess around my shoulders. My blood was matted into it, going crusty and flaking. I had managed to wash my face, but my hair was impossible.
I sighed as I picked at it. “Great.”
Tex leaned against the doorframe behind me. “You need some help?”
I shook my head quickly. “No, I’m fine.”
He glanced at my arm. “You can’t even lift your arm. I can help if you let me.”
“I can manage.”
He studied me for a second, clearly not convinced. “I can help wash your hair, Rowan. It’s no big deal.”
“No.” My head snapped toward him.
