Chapter 14
What a Foal
Layla
I’m still buzzing from the creek, from Cole’s hands, his mouth, the way he looked at me like I was the only thing in the world worth seeing, when we thunder into the yard.
Shadow skids to a dramatic stop because apparently even he has main-character energy today, and I’m already sliding off before Cole can growl at me to wait.
The barn is alive. Lights blazing, doors flung wide, a handful of ranch hands moving fast but quiet, like they’re afraid to spook the miracle happening inside.
Cole strides ahead, all long legs and purposeful grump, but he reaches back without looking and grabs my hand.
Just laces our fingers together like it’s the most natural thing.
That freaks me out. This is supposed to be fun Cole and I’m not sure everyone needs to know about our little fling just yet.
My heart does a stupid little somersault. Enemies to lovers, huh? Who knew the grumpy cowboy trope came with hand-holding privileges? I’ll be adding that to my book later.
We slip into Callie’s stall. The big girl is lying on fresh straw, sides heaving, sweat darkening her coat. She’s beautiful even in labor, strong, focused, a little pissed off. I get it, girl. No judgement here.
Cole drops to his knees beside her head, murmuring low nonsense in that rough velvet voice that usually makes me weak in the knees for entirely different reasons.
“Easy, mama. You got this. We’re right here.”
I hover near the stall wall, trying not to look like the total city girl I am, but oh my god, there’s a tiny hoof emerging. A tiny, perfect, wet hoof.
I gasp loud enough that Luke glances over and smirks. “First time?”
“Shut up,” I whisper-hiss, but I’m grinning like an idiot. “This is insane. She’s actually having a baby. Right now.”
Cole shoots me a look over his shoulder half exasperated, half amused, one hundred percent hot. “Not a baby. A foal. And keep your voice down, city girl. You’ll scare her.”
I stick my tongue out at him. He rolls his eyes, but there’s a twitch at the corner of his mouth. Progress.
The next few minutes are equal parts gross and magical.
Callie gives a deep, grunting push. Cole and the vet, who appeared out of nowhere like a horse-birth fairy, guiding the baby hor– I mean foal’s– shoulders through.
I’m biting my knuckles so hard I might leave marks.
There’s a slippery whoosh, a gush of fluid, and suddenly—
There’s a foal.
A tiny, gangly, soaked little thing lying in the straw, blinking in confusion at the world it just got yeeted into. Its coat is dark and matted, ears flopped sideways like wet paper. It’s… it’s adorable. It’s disgusting. It’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.
Callie immediately starts licking it furiously, low nickers rumbling from her chest. The foal twitches, tries to lift its head, and flops right back down. I laugh, loud, delighted, a little watery.
Cole glances at me again, and this time his eyes soften in a way that should be illegal. “You okay?”
I nod, wiping under my eyes. “I’m fine. It’s just… wow. That was the most beautiful disgusting thing ever.”
He chuckles, quiet, real and goes back to work, rubbing the foal with clean towels, checking it over. The little one finally gets its front legs under it, wobbling like a drunk giraffe on stilts. It tries to stand. Falls. Tries again. Falls. I’m holding my breath with every attempt.
“Come on, baby,” I whisper. “You got this.”
On the third try, it makes it shaky, splay-legged, but upright. Callie nuzzles it, and it stumbles toward her udder like it already knows the drill.
I’m full-on beaming now, tears freely streaming because apparently I’m a crier at horse births.
Cole stands, wipes his hands on his jeans, and walks straight to me.
Doesn’t say anything—just cups my face in those big, calloused hands and kisses me soft and slow, right there in front of the entire barn crew.
Did he really just do that? I look at him sideways, shock buzzing through me like electricity under my skin.
He just kissed me out in the open. In front of everyone.
Ranch hands. Family. People who’ve known him his whole life.
I know his brother saw us messing around at the creek — Luke, I mean, hell, practically saw me naked, so I know he knows something.
But this? This felt different.
Cole didn’t hesitate. Didn’t hide it. Didn’t look around first to see who was watching. He just leaned in and kissed me like he didn’t care who saw. Like he wanted them to see.
It’s not that I didn’t like it. I loved it.
God, I loved it. It almost feels like he wants people to know that whatever this thing between us is — it’s not a secret anymore.
Or maybe Cole just doesn’t know how to do anything halfway.
Maybe when he feels something, he feels it all the way through, whether it scares him or not.
After watching the baby horse be born, I’m already emotionally wrecked. My chest feels tight, my eyes burn, and my heart feels too full for my body.
“What do you want to name her?” Cole asks me.
And suddenly everyone’s looking at me. I can practically feel the surprise in the air, the disbelief that Cole Marshall is letting the city girl name a foal born on his ranch.
“Sara,” I say without thinking.
The name just comes to me. Soft. Strong. Right. Cole smiles, not his usual guarded half-smile, but something bigger. Something proud.
“Sara it is,” he says.
Something in my chest shifts. Everyone gathers around, voices low and warm, watching little Sara wobble on unsteady legs and nurse from Callie. It’s… beautiful. Raw. Life happening right in front of us without asking permission.
I feel this ache bloom inside me — deep and sudden.
I want a family one day. A big one. Loud. Messy. I’ve never really gotten to experience that kind of love, but I know, I know, I’d be a good mother. The thought settles in me like a truth I’ve always carried.
“Well?” Cole asks, stepping up beside me. “What did you think?”
“It was magical,” I tell him honestly, tears shining in my eyes. “One of the most amazing things I’ve ever seen in real life. Truly.”
“I love it here,” I murmur under my breath, not even realizing I’ve said it out loud until it’s already there between us.
Cole glances at me, boots scuffing the dirt as he kicks at the ground. He smiles, small, quiet, like he’s holding something back.
“Why don’t you head on up to the house,” he says gently, “finish your writing, and then come over later for dinner. I don’t know what Nancy’s cooking tonight, but it’ll be good.”
I nudge him with my elbow, playful. “Alright. I’ll see you in a little bit.”
I start walking toward the guest house, and instinctively I turn around because I feel eyes on me.
There he is. Watching me like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. I shake my head at him, smiling, and he lifts his hand in that subtle little gesture that tells me to turn around and keep walking. So I do. But I can’t wipe the smile off my face.
My life has changed so much since the first day I got here.
When I finally get inside, it’s time to write.
I sit down, laptop open, fingers hovering over the keys but all I can think about is the wild sex we just had at the creek.
The way he picked me up like I weighed nothing, carried me straight out of the water like it was the most natural thing in the world.
The way his hands were everywhere—firm, rough, sure of exactly what he wanted from me. And his voice. My God.
When he told me to get on my knees, my brain immediately went there. I really thought he was going to make me blow him—and honestly, I would have. No hesitation. That long, thick—Woah.
Okay. Breathe, Layla.
But he didn’t. He wanted me on all fours. And the second I realized that, something feral woke up inside me. The way he took control, the way he touched me like my body belonged exactly where it was… I’m getting turned on again just thinking about it.
I squeeze my thighs together and shake my head. Calm down. You’re here to write.
I channel all that energy into the page, pouring it straight into a spicy scene for my readers.
If nothing else, today was perfect inspiration.
Honestly? It was a stress relief in the strangest, most perfect way.
Like a spa day—but ranch-style. Watching a horse give birth and getting fucked doggystyle by the creek.
Wild. Completely unhinged. And somehow… relaxing.
The words finally start flowing. Two solid hours later, I finish the chapter, and the satisfaction hits hard.
That deep, full feeling of yes, this is it.
But tomorrow? Tomorrow I need to focus. I’m only halfway through this book, and deadlines don’t care that I’m currently sleeping with a hot cowboy.
Cole has been distracting as hell. And I’m not complaining. Not even a little.
I glance at the clock and curse softly. Dinner’s in thirty minutes, and I absolutely cannot show up smelling like a farm animal.
I practically sprint for the shower, scrubbing off sweat, creek water, and the lingering reminder of him.
As the steam fills the bathroom, my mind drifts again because of course it does.
I haven’t seen Maggie in a couple of days, and I really miss her. She’s somehow become my Tennessee bestie, and I need some girl time. I also need updates—especially on Lanie. There’s definitely tea there, and I want all of it.
When I step out of the shower, wrapped in a towel, I catch my reflection and smile.
I think tonight calls for a dress. Cole’s only seen me in one once, when I threw it on in a panic to answer the door for his dad.
This time is different. Tonight, I want to dress to impress.
I want him to really see me. To see exactly how good I can look.