Chapter 10 COLE
COLE
I stand outside the barn with my hands in my pockets and my heart trying to pound its way up my throat. The sun is high, breeze is light, and every contractor who bid today is gathered in a loose, nervous circle near the porch. The whole ranch feels like it’s holding its breath.
Inside the barn, Ella and her family are deciding my fate—future, company’s survival, and father’s legacy.
I’ve never hated waiting this much.
Someone behind me laughs too loud, another mutters about deadlines, boots scrape against gravel, papers rustle, and Toby’s voice cuts through everything like a saw blade.
“Place looks like a petting zoo. Figures the Morgans would run things like hillbillies,” he grumbles.
Calista giggles, that artificial sound she always uses around people she’s trying to impress—too sweet and sharp. “Careful, babe. Cole might get offended. This is the closest thing he has to a real home.”
I keep my gaze forward. Don’t. Do not give them anything. I breathe through my nose, slow and controlled. The other contractors give us space, pretending they’re not listening while absolutely listening.
She’s not wrong, though. The Morgans mean a lot to me, and I’m grateful for the opportunity they’re giving me, considering my circumstances.
Toby leans against a post, arms crossed, watching me. “So,” he mocks loudly, “you really think you nailed that presentation?”
I grit my teeth. He wants a reaction from me—to see me off-balance, rattled, and angry—but I refuse to give it to him.
“I think the Morgans will choose what’s best for them,” I reply evenly.
Calista’s eyebrows lift in amusement. “That is such a diplomatic answer. You almost sound like a boss.”
Toby snorts. “Come on, Cal. Don’t give him that much credit.”
A few of the men around shift awkwardly, eyes darting between us. I ignore them and look toward the barn door again—the door that’s taking too long to open, the one that might save me or destroy me.
Ella is inside, probably talking up my project to her family.
Oh Ella. My Shiloh. My? No, she can’t be mine.
And yet I can’t think about her without feeling something twist behind my ribs—a mix of wanting, fear, and a warmth I’ve tried to chase out of myself for years.
She’s the reason I’m standing as steady as I am.
The reason I didn’t walk out before even trying.
She believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself. If I win this bid, it’s because of her. If I lose it… No, I can’t think that way. Not after everything she’s done for me.
I exhale, tension burning at the base of my skull. I can’t lose it.
Toby pushes off the post and saunters toward me, hands in his pockets. “You looked nervous as hell up there,” he cackles. “Sweating like you were giving your first high school speech.”
I refuse to look at him.
“Thought you’d choke,” he adds.
I clench my jaw as Calista steps forward, flipping her hair. “Toby, be nice. He tried his best.”
“His best isn’t good enough,” Toby derides. “Not for this. Not anymore.”
My fists curl in my pockets, resisting the urge to knock him down. Then, he crosses a line.
“You know he only got this far because we kept the company afloat,” Toby says to the group. “Before we stepped in, Dawson Construction was a sinking ship.”
Calista nods, lips twisting cruelly. “We saved him. And he still tanked half the business. Your dad is turning in his grave because of you, Cole.”
My lungs freeze. That one hits like a punch to the gut. I have no idea what they’re trying to prove with such lies. Everyone knows Dawson Construction is the top construction company in South Texas. The only reason it’s sinking is because they’re selfish enough to try and steal it from me.
But I stay silent, not moving or saying a word.
“Man’s one client away from filing bankruptcy,” Toby continues smugly. “Not exactly the Morgan type.”
A few contractors glance at me with pity. I hate that look. I hate pity more than humiliation. I turn slightly, give myself room to breathe, and force myself to look at the lake instead of them.
I let them talk, laugh at me, and spit on what I built because I know I will have the last laugh. But then, as always, they keep going.
Toby smirks. “Bet he brought that kid of his today, too. The kid’s at the ranch so much she should pitch a tent.”
Calista puts a hand to her chest in mock pity. “It must be so hard, trying to work full-time while dragging a child everywhere because no one wants to babysit her.”
I snap my gaze toward her so fast, I hear my neck crack. How dare they mention my daughter? Aria isn’t even here. It’s the middle of the week, so she’s in school, and even if she wasn’t, what’s their business with her?
Heat prickles along my spine. They can talk about me all they want—spit on the company, my work, finances, and pride—but when they bring Aria into it… My knuckles ache from how tightly I’m clenching my fists inside my pocket.
I hear Ella’s voice ringing in my head. Cole, don’t. Not yet. Not unless you want to lose everything. And so, I force myself to stay calm.
Toby chuckles. “Face it, Cole. You’re not stable or reliable. You’re a single dad trying to run a company that’s falling apart. The Morgans aren’t stupid. They’ll pick someone with real resources.”
My pulse hammers hard enough to shake my vision. Still, I hold back. I keep my breathing steady, my eyes on the gravel, hands at my sides.
I can take it. I’ve taken worse.
But then Calista says the words that rip it all apart. “He only thinks he has a shot because he’s sleeping with little Miss Morgan.”
A cold wave crashes through my body. Toby joins in, voice raised so everyone hears it. “The system’s rigged, people. The princess screws the contractor, and suddenly, he gets the job? How convenient.”
Someone laughs while another man mutters, “Damn.”
Calista smirks, voice dripping poison. “Don’t worry, Cole. I’m sure Ella will pat your head and tell you that you tried your best, right before she hands you the contract she picked for you in bed.”
“Shut up!” I bellow just as something in me snaps.
More like breaks.
It’s a clean, violent shift inside me. A switch flipped, a line crossed too far. My body moves before my mind can catch up. I take one step, a deep breath, and pull my fist back before letting it connect with Toby’s jaw.
He goes down hard, smacking the dirt with a stunned grunt. Gasps explode around us, boots scramble back, as someone else swears loudly. I stand there, chest heaving, shoulders tight, fists still curled but unmoving.
Calista screams, rushing to Toby as he rolls to his side, groaning. “What is WRONG with you?” she screeches.
But I barely hear her. My ears ring with my own pulse, vision is a tunnel of white-hot fury, throat tasting like metal and regret. Because I didn’t just punch Toby. I punched every word he said about Ella and the sickening image he painted of her.
Her name is the last thing that should come out of his filthy mouth. I know I’ve risked everything by hitting him, but I don’t care. I need to protect Ella and make sure that she’s not dragged through the mud because of me.
Someone yells, “Fighting on the Morgan property? Are you insane?”
Another chimes in, “He swung first, I saw it!”
But the voice that cuts through it all is Hank Morgan’s. “Enough!”
Every head snaps toward the barn door. Hank is already striding forward, flanked by Zane, Jace, and Beck. An army of boots and broad shoulders.
Ella trails behind them, her panicked eyes finding mine. The look on her face makes my chest crack. She looks terrified. Not of me, but of what this means. Of what happens now.
Zane steps between me and Toby. “Break it up.”
Jace checks the side of Toby’s face with zero sympathy. “One punch. You’ll live.”
Beck lifts his chin. “Could’ve been worse.”
Calista practically shrieks. “He attacked us! He—“
“Shut up,” Hank says calmly, and she actually does.
He then turns to the crowd, commanding the room without raising his voice. “We’ve reached a decision.”
Silence falls instantly. My heart doesn’t beat—it slams. Hank looks across the contractors; his gaze is firm and unshakeable. “The construction company we are going with is—“
My breath stops. Ella grips her hands together tightly in front of her, while Calista holds Toby like they’re in the middle of a crime drama.
Hank finishes the sentence. ”—Dawson Construction. Cole’s bid wins.”
For a moment, I don’t feel anything at all. Then everything hits me like a flood—relief, disbelief, pride, fear, a punch of something warm and painful behind the sternum. The contractors murmur, some sigh in defeat, others nod respectfully, while a few clap me on the shoulder.
I can’t move, breathe, or speak. Ella releases a breath so soft I almost don’t hear it, but I see her eyes shine. And that nearly brings me to my knees.
Toby stumbles to his feet. “No,” he spits. “No. Absolutely not. This is bullshit. Rigged. Corrupt. He hits me, and you give him the job? Hell no!”
Hank’s stare could cut steel. “My decision is final.”
“The hell it is!” Toby roars.
He grabs his phone with shaking hands and dials. Right there in front of us. Eyes locked on me. “Yeah,” he barks into the phone. “I’d like to report an assault. A Cole Dawson. He attacked me on the Morgan property. Iron Stallion ranch.”
The crowd erupts in whispers.
Calista clings to him like a dramatic actress, pressing a hand to her cheek. “He was out of control! He could’ve hurt everyone!”
My stomach sinks as Ella moves toward me instinctively, but I lift a hand slightly—a silent stop. I won’t let her walk into this, not for me.
Hank tries his best to take control of the situation, but Toby is having none of it.
It doesn’t take long for police sirens to wail in the distance. Ella’s eyes are on me, wide, soft, and breaking. I try my best to remain calm, standing straight, hands at my side, chin up. How did everything get so fucked up, so fast?
The sirens cut off, doors open, and two officers step out. They approach us to take statements, interview the contractors while listening to Calista’s hysterical retelling and Toby’s embellished sob story.
When they get to me, I don’t lie. “I punched him,” I admit quietly. “Once.”
They exchange a look just as Ella steps forward, voice trembling but steady. “He provoked him. They said things—“
Zane puts an arm out, gently pulling her behind him, and Jace steps forward. “Officers, I’m sure we can handle this internally.”
But they already have what they need. “I’m sorry,” the senior officer says. “We have to take him in.”
One of them steps behind me. I don’t resist when he takes my wrists or flinch when the cuffs click shut. My eyes lock onto Ella’s as she lets out a soft, broken sound that tears through me like barbed wire.
I keep my eyes on her, just her—her eyes shining with unshed tears, lips parted in disbelief, chest rising and falling too fast.
I give her the smallest nod. It’s going to be okay, Ella. Don’t make things harder. Don’t fight for me against the law and get yourself pulled into this bullshit because of me.
She shakes her head once, desperate, like she refuses to accept this, but she can’t stop it.
They guide me toward the cruiser, gravel crunching beneath my boots, air tasting like dust and shame, making my throat burn. I sit in the back of the car without a word.
I look out the window and see Ella standing there.
She looks devastated but still manages to have that fierce look.
Our eyes lock, and I realize with absolute clarity: I would throw a thousand punches, spend a thousand nights in that jail cell, if it meant shielding her from even one more second of their cruelty.
The cruiser pulls away, barn fading behind us, until it disappears around the bend. But her eyes—they stay with me, burning, breaking, and beautiful.
A foreign feeling grips my chest. Fear. I’m afraid. Not of the arrest, of Toby and Calista, or the company I might lose, but I’m afraid of how much she matters.
I’m afraid I won’t deserve her when all this is over.