“It’s a donkey, Oak. Let it go.”
“A donkey who bit you for no good reason,” he says hotly.
My chest warms at the consternation on Oakley’s face. “At least I had you there to run him off, didn’t I? My protector.”
Oakley goes motionless for just a second before his hand slides up to my chest, his fingers and palm skimming lightly over my skin. “I don’t like seeing you hurt. Not then. Not now.”
“I know,” I say softly, feeling the same. Of course I do.
His hand splays over my heart, voice solemn. “I’m not leaving again, Law. I need you to know that. To trust in it.”
My pulse skitters. Oakley follows my draw when I pull him close, curling around me, my protector still, chasing away the clouds whether or not he realizes it. “I know, Oak. Because I won’t let you go.”
Chapter 22
Oakley
Lawson is at the school today, the teachers having gone in to get their classrooms ready before the students return next week. I saw him off this morning after dropping him back at the ranch house, seeing as he spent the night at my place. Again. As he’s been doing most nights for the past two weeks.
There’s no way that hasn’t been noticed by his family, not that any of them have said a word about it to me. I’ve seen a few looks, though. From Jackson. Remi. Marigold, even. The only two who’ve seemed somewhat oblivious are Colton and Hank, although I don’t know if it’s a matter of not noticing or not being the overly interfering types.
And there’s Wendy, of course. She’s come over with Lawson a couple times for dinner. I can’t tell for sure if I’m imagining her looking a little longer at me and her dad or if she’s figured it out.
Christ. What would I even say to her?Yes, I’m shacking up with your father. Practice safe sex.That might be a minefield better left to Lawson.
When I turn in for the day, I run into a familiar farrier inside the horse barn. One that isn’t Colton. Noah King is bent over a hoof, fixing new shoes on Hazel, the mare I used to ride before I left Montana. He gives me a nod when I pass with Clover.
“Heard she’s yours now,” I say in greeting, stopping outside Clover’s stall.
Noah huffs, an amused if not short sound, his tattoo-covered arms flexing as he works. “She is.”
“Heard Colton’s yours, too.”
He lifts his head, a bemused grin on his face. “I’d love to watch him hear you say that.”
I chuckle, pulling Clover’s saddle loose and lifting his saddle pad off his sweaty back. “It’s a mutual thing, I’m sure.”
“That it is,” Noah says, sounding fond. Which, considering he and Colton were at each other’s throats last I was here, is incredibly odd to bear witness to. “You and Lawson now?”
“Well, shit,” I mutter, staring at the top of the man’s head. “No beating around the bush, huh?”
Noah laughs. “I’m not one for subtlety.”
“No, I guess not. I dunno,” I tell him truthfully. “Still figuring it out.”
He makes a sound as if he gets it. “These Darling brothers need a minute. Don’t take it to heart.”
“What d’you mean?” I ask, swapping Clover’s bridle out for a simple harness.
Noah hems for a moment, his rasp a rhythmic metronome to the brief silence. “Colton took a long time to admit his feelings for me. From what I know, Jackson was the same when it came to Ash. I think obstinance runs in this family’s veins.”
I hum.
Lawson sure is stubborn when he wants to be. But I’m not sure that has anything to do with…us.
It could be wishful thinking on my part, but I swear, Iswear, something is changing for him. It’s small things. Seeking intimacy outside of sex. Little touches that occur far more frequently than they used to. Sitting close on the couch instead of in his own space. The way he’s been looking at me, like he’s thinking hard. Hell, sleeping in my bed even if we haven’t fucked.
I don’t think Lawson is avoiding any feelings he might have on purpose, if they’re there at all. I think, like he said, he’s had other people’s voices telling him what’srightwhen it comes to sex and romance his whole life, so he needs the time to listen to himself. To replace those voices with his own.
