Chapter 5
We finish our meal, the plates cleared, and the check delivered with a smile that's slightly less syrupy than when we first sat down, probably because the server finally realized Liam wasn’t ditching me mid-meal.
Liam slides his card into the booklet without hesitation.
“Don’t want to go Dutch?” I tease as he scrawls his name across the receipt.
I expect a smartass remark, but he just glances up at me and says, “Boyfriend always pays,” like it’s obvious. And effortless.
I smile. So does he.
But there’s something in his expression that makes me feel like this game isn’t so one-sided anymore.
After he signs the receipt, he stands and holds out his hand. I don’t hesitate. I slip my fingers into his, and for a moment, I forget it’s fake. It feels too natural. Like we’ve done this a hundred times before.
Outside, the air is thick with moisture and tension. The sky over Sheridan pulses with the low flicker of distant lightning, far off but coming closer. Thunder rolls soft like it’s clearing its throat.
Liam leads me to his truck and opens the door with a little bow.
I give him a pointed look as I climb in. “I told you it was going to rain.”
He smirks, resting a hand on the open doorframe, eyes catching the glow of lightning just behind me.
“And I told you, honey, being stuck on the ranch wouldn’t be the worst thing.”
My heart skips a beat, and this time, there’s no pretending it didn’t.
The cab of the truck is quiet as Liam pulls away from the restaurant, headlights cutting through the dark. Neither of us says much at first, but the silence doesn’t feel awkward. It feels loaded. Like we’re both waiting for something we don’t have the nerve to name.
Rain starts to fall about ten minutes into the drive. Just a light patter at first, soft enough to sound like fingertips brushing the roof. It makes the world outside blur, the lights from passing farms and mailboxes glowing like smudged fireflies.
I glance over at him. He’s relaxed behind the wheel, one hand resting casually at the top, the other draped on the console.
His sleeves are still rolled up from dinner, and the fabric of his black shirt stretches just slightly when he turns the wheel.
He smells like cologne and fresh air and something warm I can’t quite define.
If I were brave, I’d tell him how handsome he looks right now.
He catches me looking.
“What?” he asks, lips quirking.
I shake my head quickly, gaze snapping back to the rain-slicked windshield. “Nothing.”
But my cheeks are warm again, and he knows it.
The rain picks up just a little, still soft, still gentle, but now it’s rhythmic, tapping like a heartbeat against the windows. The kind of rain that makes everything feel closer. More intimate.
“I always liked this kind of weather,” Liam says, voice low. “Makes it feel like the rest of the world’s asleep.”
I nod, not trusting my voice.
We ride in silence for another mile, and then he says, “Tonight felt real.”
My heart stutters. “What do you mean?”
He shrugs, not looking at me. “Dinner. You laughing. Holding your hand.” He glances over. “It didn’t feel fake.”
The air between us tightens, like the truck itself is holding its breath.
“I know it’s pretend,” he adds quickly, like he’s trying to walk it back, “but it didn’t feel like it.”
I turn my face toward the window, watching the rain streak down the glass like threads unraveling. My voice comes out softer than I expect. “Yeah. Me neither.”
For one heartbeat, it hangs there, fragile and full of meaning.
But then Liam says, “That’s good. Means Teddy will eat it up.”
Just like that, the moment dissolves.
“Yeah,” I murmur, my throat tighter than it should be.
I glance out into the dark, watching the water slide down the glass in lazy trails, and let my thoughts wander backward, where they always seem to go when I’m around him too long.
It hurt, watching Liam choose Amber over me.
I told myself it was fine. That he didn’t know.
That I hadn’t made it obvious. That I’d felt it like a knife to the gut when he picked her.
But then I saw what they were like together.
The way they fought, the tension, the constant push and pull.
A wildfire trying to burn itself out. And I realized maybe I’d been lucky.
Because I got the better version of him.
The friend. The steady one. The version who came to me when things fell apart. Who trusted me with the behind-the-scenes pieces of his life. The version who didn't break my heart because he didn’t hold it in his hands.
At least not officially.
But when their relationship finally collapsed, I was left standing in the middle.
And I had to choose.
Him or Amber.
Amber cried when I told her. Said I was a terrible friend.
Said I should’ve walked away from the job.
From him. That loyalty shouldn’t look like betrayal.
Maybe she was right. Maybe I was an awful friend.
But the truth? I liked what I was doing.
I was good at it. And more than that I liked being around Liam.
More than I ever should’ve let myself. Choosing him cost me a friendship, but I won’t let it cost me my soul.
I sit a bit straighter, as if I can somehow convince my heart to fall in line with my brain.
“We’ll need to see if Sam or Phern can look after the cattle while we’re gone,” I say, shifting gears like it’s second nature. “We’ve got three cows due to calve any day now, and a handful of heifers that need to be pulled off their mothers.”
If Liam notices the sudden detour into business, he doesn’t call me on it. Doesn’t ask why I went from near confession to herd logistics in a blink.
“Good thinking,” he says easily. “I’ll call Sam in the morning.”
“Let him know the kittens are ready to be picked up, too.”
“Kittens?” He glances over, surprised.
I smile. “He wants to give Charlie one for an early wedding gift. Snooki’s litter is weaned now.”
“Wait. Snooki had a litter?” He groans, dragging a hand down his face. “How did I miss that?”
I shrug, smirking. “Because you were too busy trying to figure out if you had enough feed for the new bulls and arguing with the fence guys about electrified gates.”
He shakes his head. “What would I do without you?”
I don’t answer. Because we both already know. He’d be screwed.
“Do you want to pick one?”
My breath catches in my throat, and for a second, I almost say yes. God, I want to say yes.
But I shake my head instead. “No. Lura’s allergic.”
It’s true, but it’s not the whole truth.
I’ve wanted a cat for as long as I can remember. Something soft and warm to curl up with. A little creature that’s mine. But life always had other plans, like a sister who was allergic. And I’ve gotten good at telling myself maybe one day without letting the wanting show.
Liam glances over at me. “You could pick one out and just keep it on the ranch.”
I smile, but it’s small. “Too many things that might happen to it out there. And I know how you feel about cats indoors.”
He doesn’t argue. Doesn’t try to protest. Because he knows I’m right. There’s a pause. A beat heavy with things neither of us quite says.
“I—”
“We—”
We both stop, then laugh at the same time.
“You first,” I say, folding my hands in my lap.
He rubs the back of his neck like he’s embarrassed, but his voice is soft when he says, “I was going to say we could set up a nice spot in the main barn. Heat lamps, soft bedding. If Stone Cold can have barn cats, so can I.”
One of his idols is former pro-wrestler Stone Cold Steve Austin, who, I guess, is now a cat dad.
I snort. “I think I’ll wait until I have a house where I can take one inside.”
“Okay,” Liam nods. “But the offer still stands.”
Warmth curls in my chest before I can stop it. That offer isn’t really about the cat. Not entirely.
“What were you going to say?” he asks.
“I was just going to say I think it’s sweet that Sam’s getting Charlie a kitten as a surprise.”
He glances at me, one brow raised. “No roses for you, then?”
I shake my head, smiling into the rain-dimmed window. “Roses wilt. Kittens stick around.”
Liam hums low under his breath as we turn onto the road that leads back into Broken Heart Creek. The rain’s falling harder now, a steady rhythm on the windshield, blurring the world into soft edges and streaked lights.
But Liam’s hands are steady on the wheel. He doesn’t rush. Doesn’t flinch.
We pull up in front of Lura’s Porch without incident, the familiar glow of the sign casting warm light through the rain. The engine idles, quiet and comforting.
“Stay right there,” he says before I can even reach for the door handle.
He grabs an umbrella that’s beside his seat and hops out, boots splashing in the puddles as he circles the front of the truck. By the time he opens my door, he’s already popped the umbrella open, rain sliding off it in sheets. He holds it over me like a shield, his free hand extended.
I raise an eyebrow. “I could have run. A little rain never hurt anyone.”
“My date,” he says, dead serious, “is not going to run.”
Like I’ve just insulted his honor or something. I bite back a smile and take his hand.
The moment my boots hit the ground, they slip a little in the slick mud. I start to fall, instinct kicking in as I reach for him, and he’s already there. One arm comes around my waist, strong and sure, holding me steady.
For a second, I forget about the rain. The cold. Everything.
I look up.
He’s already looking down at me, rain beading on his lashes, his hand still at my waist.
“Thanks,” I whisper, my voice barely carrying over the hush of the rain.
His eyes search mine for a beat too long, the air between us charged and quiet.
“Anytime,” he murmurs.
He doesn’t let go right away.
His hand is still at my waist, fingers splayed. The umbrella hovers above us, barely doing its job as the rain shifts sideways in the wind, but neither of us moves.
We just stand there.
Too close.
Too quiet.
Too charged.
I look up again, and this time I can’t pretend I’m not staring. Rain clings to his lashes, drips from the brim of his hat, and his lips are just there. Soft. Unreadable. Tempting.
His gaze drops to my mouth.
And stays there.
I swear, the world stops spinning.
He leans in a little. Just enough to make my breath catch. Just enough to make my fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, steadying myself even though I’m no longer falling.
I could kiss him right now.
I want to kiss him right now.
And for one breathless second, I think he’s going to do it.
But then he blinks.
Pulls back a fraction.
And clears his throat like it physically pains him to break the moment.
“Better get you inside,” he says, voice rougher now.
He shifts the umbrella, adjusting it to keep me dry again, even though his shoulder is taking most of the rain.
I nod and curse the thunder in my chest as we walk the rest of the way to the door.
“Thanks for a lovely date,” I say.
He dips his head, saying nothing. And when his gaze goes to my mouth, I feel myself leaning in.
“See you tomorrow, Olive,” he says. “Don’t forget my cobbler.”
I let out a small laugh and let myself into the building.
By the time I walk through the side door, I’m barely breathing.
My heart is still thundering from the almost kiss.
His hand on my waist, the way his eyes lingered on my lips, how close his mouth had gotten to mine.
The air between us had shifted. I know he felt it, too.
And then he pulled back.
Of course he did.
Why wouldn’t he? We’re just friends. Nothing more.
I kick off my wet boots, slipping into the warmth of Lura’s kitchen.
Even though it’s late, I know she’s still up.
She’ll either be cleaning or prepping for the morning rush.
It smells like cinnamon and the tail end of whatever game-night snacks the ladies devoured.
The diner is still and most of the lights are already off.
But that doesn’t stop Lura.
She’s sitting at the kitchen table, mug in hand, bathrobe on, looking every bit the judgmental queen she is.
“Well,” she says, not even looking up from her crossword. “That was a long ride home. You tell that Liam Stone he ought to watch the weather so he’s not driving in a rainstorm?”
I freeze mid-step. “Lura…”
She finally lifts her gaze, and her eyes sparkle. “Don’t ‘Lura’ me. You’ve got that dazed ‘a man looked at me like I’m made of moonlight’ expression.”
“I do not.”
She sips her tea like she’s seen the entirety of my soul. “If you’d leaned forward an inch, would you be kissing him right now or figuring out where his pants landed?”
“Lura!”
She cackles. “I’m old, not dead. Now go change before you melt into the floor.”
I mumble something incoherent and flee upstairs to my room, cheeks burning.
I don’t even make it three steps before my phone buzzes in my pocket.
It’s a text from Liam.
Liam aka The Best Boss Ever
If I hadn’t pulled back just now, would you have kissed me?
I stare at the screen.
My heart does that ridiculous flutter again, like it wants the chaos. I don’t answer right away. Because if I do, I might not be able to lie.
Instead of replying right away, I go to the bathroom and strip out of my damp clothes, the fabric clinging to my skin like it knows I’m unraveling.
The hot water is a welcome shock as steam curls around me as I stand under the spray, trying to wash off the night, trying to calm the heartbeat that hasn’t slowed since the almost that nearly became something real.
By the time I’m wrapped in my fluffiest robe, damp hair twisted into a towel and face pink from the heat, I’m still thinking about his hand on my waist.
His eyes on my mouth.
The way he said "Better get you inside" like it was either that or lose control completely.
I curl up on the edge of my bed, thumb hovering over my phone for a second too long before I finally type the truth.
Yes.
His reply comes fast.
Damn. Knew I should’ve just gone for it.
I stare at the message, heart in my throat. I type slowly this time.
Why did you stop?
The dots appear. Disappear. Then reappear.
I’m not sure, to be honest.
That’s all he says. But it’s enough.
Because now, I’m not sure what happens next either.