Chapter 17 Dakota
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Dakota
“Are you enjoying these cowboy tricks?” I ask Charlie, laughing. “You look good!”
“I can lasso, Mom!” he says, puffing out his little chest, holding an invisible rope like he’s about to take on the whole ranch by himself.
His grin is wide and full of that innocent confidence only a five-year-old can pull off.
I smile, even though my heart gives a tiny ache. He fits here. Too easily.
Clint chuckles, that deep, quiet sound that somehow fills the whole room. “You’ve got good form, kid. Maybe we’ll get you out in the practice pen before too long.”
Charlie’s eyes go wide. “Really?”
“Maybe,” Clint says, raising an eyebrow. “If your mom says it’s okay.”
I roll my eyes, mostly to cover the way my stomach twists at the sight of him with Charlie. “We’ll see.”
Reid barks out a laugh, leaning back in his chair. “You sound just like my mom. ‘Reid, don’t climb that fence. Reid, don’t you dare ride bareback.’” He grins at Charlie. “Didn’t listen then either.”
“Still doesn’t,” Sawyer adds dryly from the other end of the table, his spoon halfway to his mouth. “Man’s a walking bruise.”
“Occupational hazard,” Reid shoots back. “Can’t help it if some of us live on the edge.”
“Edge of what?” Sawyer deadpans. “Common sense?”
Charlie giggles, and even Clint cracks a grin. The whole table feels lighter, and I find myself laughing too. Real laughter, the kind that sneaks up on you before you can stop it.
Dinner smells delicious, chili and cornbread. The guys are relaxed, teasing each other, passing dishes around, talking over one another in that easy, comfortable rhythm that only comes from long familiarity.
And somehow, they’ve pulled Charlie right into it, as if he’s been part of their circle all along.
“Alright, little man,” Reid says, leaning in toward Charlie with a mock serious face. “Tell me, if you’re gonna be a cowboy, what’s your job on the ranch? Gotta have one.”
Charlie’s eyes light up. “I wanna be a horse rider! Like you!”
Reid grins proudly. “Excellent choice. You’ve got good taste.”
Sawyer snorts. “That’s only because you want someone else to muck the stalls.”
“I heard that,” Reid says, but he’s grinning. “I’ll train him right. He’ll be the fastest hand we’ve ever had.”
“Faster than you?” Clint asks, one eyebrow raised.
Reid’s grin falters just a little. “Well, let’s not get crazy.”
The table bursts into laughter again. Even Clint’s eyes glint with amusement, though he tries to hide it behind his coffee mug.
Charlie soaks it all in, his face glowing like he’s the center of the world. And he kind of is.
It should make me happy, and it does, but it also hurts in ways I can’t put words to. Watching Clint lean back, smiling at my son, talking to him like he’s known him forever… it feels too easy. Too natural.
And that’s what scares me most.
If he ever found out, if he knew, everything would change. This warmth, this laughter, this fragile little moment of peace would blow apart like glass.
And I should change that. I almost did. But I’m terrified.
I force myself to focus on the noise around me instead of the thoughts clawing at the back of my mind.
“Clint, you’re awfully quiet tonight,” Sawyer says, breaking the lull that settles between rounds of teasing. “That means you actually liked my chili this time?”
Clint looks up, smirking. “It’s not bad. Bit too much cumin, though.”
Sawyer points his spoon at him. “You’re lucky I like you.”
Reid leans toward Charlie, stage whispering, “Always pretend to like Sawyer’s cooking, no matter what. Keeps the peace.”
Charlie nods solemnly, like he’s being handed top-secret cowboy intel. “Okay.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “You’re all terrible influences.”
“Hey, we’re good influences,” Reid protests. “We’re teaching him about teamwork, resilience… basic ranch life.”
“Ranch life, huh?” I raise an eyebrow. “Because what I’m seeing is three grown men arguing about seasoning and pretending to be role models.”
Reid gasps dramatically, pressing a hand to his heart. “You wound me, Dakota.”
Sawyer grins. “She’s not wrong, though.”
Clint’s watching me now. Quietly, but there’s that half-smile again. The one that feels like it’s looking straight through me.
“Don’t let ’em fool you,” he says. “They mean well. They just… talk too much.”
Reid tosses a napkin at him. “Says the guy who barely talks at all.”
“I talk when it counts,” Clint replies evenly, his eyes still on me.
And just like that, I forget how to breathe.
I swallow hard, trying to push past the sudden rush of heat in my chest, the way my pulse spikes when Clint looks at me like that, as if he’s seeing right through me.
I force a smile, pretending to laugh at something Charlie says, anything to distract me from the suffocating awareness of his presence.
But my heart pounds in my chest, too fast, too heavy. I keep telling myself it’s fine, it’s just Clint being Clint. He smiles at everyone in that way. He’s just being friendly.
But deep down, I know better.
Every time he looks at me like that, everything shifts. The atmosphere between us intensifies, and the space between us becomes charged.
I don’t know what it means, but it makes my skin tingle and my mind scramble to catch up.
“Mom, I wanna ride a horse again,” Charlie says excitedly. “Can I now?”
I force a laugh, my chest tight. “Not now, buddy. It’s getting dark. Maybe another day. We’ll see.”
Clint raises an eyebrow, his eyes glinting with that silent humor. “If he’s anything like Reid, he’ll be hanging off a horse’s neck before midnight.”
Reid laughs. “No doubt! We’d have him barrel racing in no time.”
The table bursts into laughter, but I can’t shake the weight in my chest.
I glance at Clint again, and my heart stutters. His smile, the way his eyes flick back to me. He’s waiting for me to say something. Or maybe he’s just hoping I will.
But I can’t.
I stand up abruptly, overwhelmed by the urge to move.
“I, uh…” I start, then stop myself, trying to find a reason that doesn’t sound like I’m trying to escape. “I think I’ll just… use the bathroom.”
It’s an excuse, plain and simple. And I know it won’t fool anyone, especially not Clint. But I need to get away. I need a moment to breathe.
I walk quickly, my footsteps loud in the silence that follows me out of the room. I head for the hallway, trying to focus on the simple act of putting one foot in front of the other, but my mind is a jumbled mess.
When I reach the hallway, I lean against the wall for support, pressing my back to it, my fingers gripping the cool wood. I take a few shallow breaths, trying to calm the frantic beating of my heart.
I’m suffocating in here. Everything is closing in on me. The ranch, Charlie, Clint… the feelings I can’t quite name.
I close my eyes, forcing myself to take deeper breaths. I tell myself I’m being ridiculous. It’s just dinner. It’s just Clint and his damn smile. It’s just the strain of being here, of trying to keep it all together.
I’ve done it before. I can do it again.
“Hey,” a voice cuts through my thoughts, warm and calm.
It’s Sawyer.
I open my eyes, startled by how quickly I’ve forgotten where I am.
He’s standing in the hallway, a few feet away, his hands in his pockets, leaning casually against the wall. His brow is furrowed, concern etched into his features.
“You alright?” he asks curiously.
I nod quickly, trying to push the wave of panic back down. “Yeah, just… needed a minute.”
Sawyer’s eyes narrow slightly, but he doesn’t press. Instead, he steps forward, his easy presence settling beside me, but he’s not crowding me. He’s just there.
He’s giving me the space I need without letting me feel alone.
I blink at him. “Thank you. That’s… nice.”
I feel a little embarrassed by how much I appreciate this simple kindness, but I can’t help it. It feels nice. He shrugs, that easy grin back on his face.
“No problem. It’s what I do. Be the charming, ever-helpful guy who occasionally brings snacks.”
I chuckle. “You? Helpful? The guy with the wild dog?”
“Hey, hey.” He raises his hands in mock surrender. “Rover is fun-loving, is all.”
I laugh. His humor is an antidote to the weight I’ve been carrying around all night. I feel lighter just being near him.
Sawyer laughs, too, the sound warm, and the tension in my chest starts to loosen. “Well, Rover’s definitely something, that’s for sure. But hey, if he’s the worst thing I bring to the table, I think we’re doing alright.”
I smile, shaking my head. “I’m not sure I agree. I’m starting to think you’re just as wild as he is.”
“Wild?” He raises an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. “I prefer to think of myself as… adventurous.”
I roll my eyes at his charm, but my lips curl into a smile I can’t quite suppress. There’s something about the way he says it—everything’s just a little bit easier when he’s around.
Sawyer takes a step closer, his presence a little more intense, a little more… grounded. His hand moves as if instinctively, brushing lightly against my arm as he steps closer, and I feel the electricity of it.
I don’t move away, don’t pull back. For a brief, breathless moment, time pauses.
His fingers linger, warm against my skin, and I catch the look in his eyes. Something softer than the playful teasing we’ve been throwing back and forth.
I look up at him, my pulse quickening. He’s so close now, close enough that I can feel the heat of him, smell the faint hint of his cologne. Fresh and woodsy, like the outdoors.
It’s too much. I can’t breathe right. It’s so natural, and yet… it shouldn’t be.
His gaze drops to my lips, charged, heavy with the possibility of something…
Just when I think I might lean in, just when I think he’s about to, there’s a loud whoop from the dining room, followed by the unmistakable sound of Reid’s voice.
“Hey, Sawyer! Get in here. Charlie wants to show you the new trick I taught him!”
Sawyer blinks, visibly shaking himself out of whatever moment we were just sharing. He gives a small, almost apologetic smile, but the intensity in his eyes lingers.
“Guess I’m needed in there,” he says.
I try to mask the disappointment that hits me in a wave, but I know it’s written all over my face. This moment, whatever it was, was interrupted, and I don’t know if we’ll ever get it back.
“Yeah. Of course,” I say, forcing a smile, trying to act like everything’s fine. “I’ll just… go to the bathroom. That’s where I’m meant to be.”
He steps back, leaving me with the warmth of his touch on my skin. As he turns and heads back into the dining room, I stand there, trying to get my bearings.
What was that?
Before I can figure it out, I hear Charlie’s excited voice again, followed by Sawyer’s deep laugh, and I realize it doesn’t matter. Whatever just happened, whatever almost happened, it’s already slipping through my fingers.
It’s for the best. I already have to deal with the mess I’ve made of my life. And then there’s Clint. And Reid.
Still, a small part of me can’t help but wish this moment with Sawyer hadn’t ended so abruptly.