She glanced back suddenly, almost catching me admiring her.
“Wanna race the rest of the way to the house?” she asked, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she crouched into a runner’s stance, one brow raised in challenge.
Ellie’s competitive streak could power the entire ranch. Everything was a game. A challenge. A win she had to claim. But I wasn’t all that competitive, unless it meant getting to see her smile. I’d fight tooth and nail to win that—that was mine.
“Oh, you’re on.”
“On your mark… get set…go!”
She took off like lightning, boots thudding against the earth. I yanked off my hat so it wouldn’t fly, blond curls whipping in the wind as I sprinted beside her. I gained the advantage briefly. My legs stretched long, my strides quick—but hers were quicker. She was catching up, maybe even gaining.
The main house sat just ahead.
I slowed a hair. Just enough that she passed me, triumphant.
That’s when I made my move.
With a grin, I jammed my hat back on, reached out, and caught her around the waist. She squealed as I hauled her over my shoulder like a sack of feed and spun us in a few tight circles, both of us laughing like fools.
“Logan!” she gasped between giggles. “Put me down!”
I did, placing her in front of the porch steps, setting her on the higher step like the queen she was.
She turned toward me, flushed and breathless, planting her hands on her hips. “Itotallywon.”
“Only because I let you,” I teased, grinning up at her.
With me being on the ground and Ellie higher, our position made us close enough that I felt her breath tickling my lips as she fought to catch it.
She narrowed her eyes, but her smile was all softness and spark. “You keep telling yourself that, Walker.”
7
ELLIE
Logan set me down after scooping me up like some damn caveman, and I couldn’t stop laughing. My lungs burned, but it was the good kind of breathless, the kind that only ever seemed to happen around him.
Being with Logan made me feel like a kid again—lighter somehow. Freer. His presence grounded me in a way no one else ever had. People talk about finding theirperson like it’s some far-off dream. But for me, Logan Walker had always been it. My dearest friend. The one person who seemed to understand me when I needed it most.
“You keep telling yourself that, Walker,” I said, tossing him a wink.
He jogged up the porch stairs ahead of me and grabbed the screen door, holding it open with a small, knowing smile. I couldn’t help but notice the pink tint of his cheeks from exertion. The way his blond hair curled up toward the brim of his cowboy hat, messy and wild.
“After you, Ace.”
That nickname did it every time—tugged a smile from my lips.Ace. He’d been calling me that since we were kids. Itwasn’t just a nickname; it was him holding onto my secret. It was familiarity. Logan had my back. Always had. I never once doubted he always would.
The smell of garlic and the sound of something sizzling in butter hit me the second I stepped inside. Steak and potatoes, maybe? Whatever it was, it smelled delicious.
We passed the hallway lined with mismatched gold picture frames—snapshots of birthdays, muddy rodeos, and sun-soaked summers. Logan followed close behind, his boots echoing across the uneven floorboards that groaned with every step.
The Cassidy house had its own heartbeat. Old and warm and a little lopsided, but loved all the same.
“I brought a guest,” I called out as we entered the kitchen.
My mom stood at the stove, mashing something in a pot with fierce determination. She turned just enough to flash us a quick smile.
“Hello, Logan.”
