Chapter 11
Alex
I lean against the fence, observing the party in full swing. The barbecue smoke rises lazily into the evening sky, and the smell of grilled meat mingles with that of hay and warm earth. It's a perfect evening, one of those I love the most. There's something special about summer evenings at the ranch, something that makes me feel alive and free.
Robert is at the barbecue wearing a relaxed smile I haven't seen in a long time. I barely remember the man he was when we hired him at the ranch... perfect in his work but always a bit distant, sad or empty... or stressed. Something that reminds me of his daughter. Since he met Maria, he's changed. He's happier, more serene. I see them together, and I realize how much he deserves this happiness. Maria is perfect for him: radiant in her floral dress, with blonde hair that shines in the sunset light. I've always admired her: a sunny and positive person... like her daughters. It's no wonder Val captured the heart of the hard-to-please Chris! Maria's passion for cooking is evident, and I see it in Val and Lexy too. They love to cook and have a lot of fun doing it together. It's an art, a way of taking care of the people they love... definitely adorable... I wish I possessed this skill.
The sound of Lexy's guitar fills the air, distracting me from my thoughts, and her melodious voice rises above the murmur of people. She's wearing a black fringed skirt and a beige top, her bare feet tapping the rhythm on the ground. Next to her, Val dances with abandon, her blue dress swaying with every movement. She's barefoot too, and her face is lit up with a contagious smile. Those two make me laugh with their inexhaustible energy. I see Chris looking at Val with loving eyes, and I can't help but smile. Those two are made for each other.
I approach the guys who are laughing and joking. They're all barefoot, because it's wonderful, natural, therapeutic... and simply our way. And I invite them to do what we always do: we challenge each other in a friendly wrestling match made of acrobatics and fights. We love training together, challenging each other, and showing off who's stronger. Our bodies moving with strength and agility. This is our life, simple but full. I take advantage of Chris being obviously distracted by admiring Val... and I take him down. I love playing with them; they're my brothers.
And then I see her. Rosie.
My gaze stops on her as she makes her entrance into the courtyard. She's wearing a flowy green dress and high heels that sink slightly into the soft ground. I see her falter for a moment, and a smile escapes me. She can't help but be elegant, even here at the ranch. I don't even know if she knows what "simple lifestyle" means... I don't know anything about her, to be honest. Except for some fatherly and probably highly biased comments that Robert has let slip... I know absolutely nothing. Even though the girls already seem to adore her and I... I can't stop thinking about her.
But no... I must be delirious; it must surely be that damn Irish beer that Diego has been supplying us with since his three-year stay in Ireland. Red and alcoholic... just the way we all like it! The girls like it too... if Val, Lexy, and Aurora can be called that... I've never seen girls more similar to us in my life... they're definitely fantastic!
Rosie's presence is magnetic, and I can't help but observe her as she looks around, a bit nervous. Her eyes wander over the scene in front of her: her father at the barbecue, Maria helping him, Lexy and Val dancing and singing, and then her eyes meet mine.
I forget everything else. I walk towards her and smile. "Welcome to the party, princess," I say, letting my gaze run along her body. "Nice dress. Although..." I lean towards her, whispering in her ear: "Maybe you should take off those shoes if you don't want to end up face-first in the dirt."
I feel a shiver run down my spine at the sound of my own voice so close to her. She straightens up, trying to maintain her composure. "I'm fine like this, thank you," she responds with a confident tone, but I can see the slight blush on her cheeks.
I raise my hands in surrender, my smile widening. "As you wish, princess. But don't say I didn't warn you." As I walk away to join the other guys, I can't help but cast one last glance in her direction. There's something about Rosie that intrigues me, something that makes me want to know her better. Yet, I also notice a tension in her, something she can't completely hide. I worry. What's troubling her? Why can't she let go?
I think back to when I saw her this afternoon—she looked so lost.
An absurd, irrational urge took hold of me: the need to help her, to take care of her. When I asked if she wanted to lend me a hand, I fully expected one of her fiery glares and a sharp go to hell. But instead, she looked at me with those big, impossibly expressive eyes, and to my surprise, she agreed.
I showed her how to brush the horses, and we settled into a quiet, comforting rhythm. We worked side by side, and I watched as Rosie slowly began to relax, her tension melting away.
I wish I knew what was weighing on her. I wish she’d let me in.
I continue to observe the evening unfold, between laughter and dances. Rosie approaches her father and Maria, and I see how loved she is. Robert nods to her, his face lit up with joy. I see her blush and then, with a sigh of defeat, she takes off her heels. I smile to myself, knowing I was right.
I lose myself in the music, letting myself be carried away by the rhythm. The evening passes quickly, and I find myself laughing and joking with the guys, telling stories around the fire. And then I see Rosie, a bit apart from the party. There's something in her eyes that worries me, a sadness hidden behind that forced smile. I realize that I care about her more than I'd like to admit.
I approach, but Val's cheerful voice inviting her to dance makes me smile. Val always manages to make everyone feel welcome. I watch Rosie as she lets herself be dragged towards the dancing group. She closes her eyes for a moment, and when she reopens them, I see a new light in her eyes.
As the night progresses, I find myself sitting next to her on a hay bale, where she has retreated by herself. I offer her a bottle of beer, and I see surprise in her eyes. "Thoughtful, princess?" I ask, my tone more serious than I expected.
"A little," she admits, accepting the beer. "It's all so... different."
"Good different or bad different?" I ask, curious to know what she really thinks.
She thinks for a moment. "I don't know," she answers honestly. "But maybe... maybe it's not so bad."
I smile, a genuine smile this time, without a trace of sarcasm. "You know, princess, maybe there's hope for you after all."
I look at her, seeing something move inside her. For the first time, I see beyond the facade of the city girl. I see a kind, strong woman, with a depth I hadn't noticed before. But I also see her tension, her difficulty in letting go completely. There's something holding her back, and this worries me.
"Maybe," she whispers, more to herself than to me.
We sit in silence, looking at the stars and listening to the music in the distance. It's a comforting silence, and I delude myself that maybe she might like it here and that she could feel at home. I don't know why this thought crosses my mind, and I don't even know why a little later I let myself be guided by impulse and ask her to dance with me.
I hold out my hand, feeling my heart hammer in my chest when Rosie accepts it. Her slender fingers intertwine with mine, soft against my calloused skin. I guide her towards the improvised dance floor, my eyes caught by the movement of her bare feet on the grass. Every step seems like a dance in itself, light and graceful.
Her green dress flutters around her legs with every movement, revealing glimpses of skin that leave me breathless. Her hair, usually impeccable, is now moved by the evening breeze, some rebellious strands caressing her face. She's no longer the perfectly composed city girl - she's wild, free, beautiful.
I gently place my hand on her waist, feeling an electric spark run through me at the contact. Her skin is warm under the light fabric of the dress, and I have to resist the urge to pull her even closer. Our bodies move closer, and we begin to move slowly to the rhythm of the music, every movement charged with unexpressed tension.
Rosie's scent envelops me. Her eyes, illuminated by the flickering light of the lanterns, shine with a light I've never seen before. There's mischief in that look, a spark of adventure that makes me want to discover every secret she hides.
And it's absurd, another thought that flashes through my head: that here, a bit distant from the others, under the stars and surrounded by nature, we look like a magical painting. I swear I'm not a poetry reader or an art lover, and where this sudden romanticism came from, I have no idea. I hope Chris isn't contagious.
For a while, though, I decide to enjoy it because it makes me feel... serene, at peace, in my place.
But then I realize that Rosie won't stay. She'll return to her life in the city, and I... maybe I'll be more hurt than I'll ever admit even to myself.
I shouldn't be involved in this story, I shouldn't feel this way. Yet, here I am, worried about her and more attached than I should be. How did I end up in this situation?
I'm Alex, the cowboy who always has everything under control.
But with Rosie, everything seems different, complicated. And I can't help but wonder what will happen when she leaves.
So... my big mouth does what it always does when I feel a bit uncertain.
“Who would have thought the city princess could move like this,”
I murmur in her ear, my voice husky. I feel her shiver at my touch, at the warmth of my breath on her skin.
Rosie looks up, a mischievous smile on her lips. “There are many things you don't know about me, cowboy,”
she responds, her voice low and seductive. Her hands, initially timid on my back, now move with more confidence, fingers tracing patterns on my shirt. She’s going to be the death of me.
If she had even the faintest idea of the things I want to do to her, she wouldn’t be standing this close. Hell, she’d probably run off, disgusted.
If she knew how badly I crave her, how completely she’s undone me... Damn it, I’ve never been this reckless—not even as a teenager. And yet, here I am, barely holding myself together, all because of her.
We continue dancing, our bodies getting closer. Every movement is a promise, every touch a spark that threatens to ignite us. The tension between us grows, almost palpable, charging the air with electricity.
After a few songs, we stop for another beer. And another. And another one. The alcohol flows in our veins, dissolving the last barriers. Rosie laughs more freely now, her head thrown back, her neck exposed in a way that makes me want to...
“You know what would be really crazy?”
she suddenly says, interrupting my thoughts. Her eyes shine with a dangerous, exciting light.
“What?”
I ask, already ready to follow her into any adventure.
“Let's go for a swim in the lake!”
I laugh, incredulous and excited at the same time. “Are you serious?”
“Absolutely,”
she responds, grabbing my hand and dragging me away from the party.
We run towards the lake, laughing and stumbling along the path. The damp grass under our feet, the low branches brushing us as we pass. We arrive at the shore, panting and euphoric, adrenaline rushing through our veins.
Without hesitation, Rosie dives into the water with a cry of joy, the water rising around her like a silver veil.
The moonlight caresses every curve of her body. I'm left breathless, unable to look away. I follow her, diving in next to her. The cool water envelops us, a stark contrast to the heat of our skin. We swim, joking and splashing each other. Rosie laughs, a free and contagious sound that echoes on the surface of the lake.
As we swim, our bodies brush against each other under the water. Every accidental contact sends electric shocks through my body. Rosie's wet dress clings to her like a second skin, revealing curves that leave me breathless. It’s a struggle to keep my eyes anywhere but on the delicate curve of her breasts, perfectly framed by the clinging fabric of her soaked dress. The cool water has left her nipples visibly hardened, and the gentle bounce of her chest with each movement is becoming harder and harder to ignore.
The way the dress molds to her, leaving little to the imagination, is utterly distracting. My self-control is hanging by a thread, every shift and sway drawing my attention like a magnet. I know I shouldn’t look, but resisting feels like an impossible feat. She’s utterly alluring, and it’s driving me to the brink.
We move closer, drawn to each other like magnets. Our hands brush under the water, and I feel a jolt run through my body. We're so close now that I can count the water droplets on her eyelashes, see the desire in her eyes.
Rosie moves even closer. I can feel her heart beating wildly, or maybe it's mine. Her hands wander over my chest, light as feathers. My breathing becomes heavy.
My hands find her waist, pulling her even closer. Our faces are inches apart, our breaths mingling. The air between us is charged with tension, with unexpressed desire.
For a moment, time seems to stand still. We're on the edge of something dangerous, exciting. My eyes lower to her lips, wet and inviting. Rosie bites her lower lip, an innocent gesture that sends waves of heat through my body.
“Hey, princess,”
I tease her, splashing water in her face. 'I thought city girls couldn't swim.'
Rosie gives me a challenging look. “Oh, really?”
With a quick movement, she pushes me underwater.
I resurface, coughing and laughing. “Now you're in trouble!”
A water battle begins, both of us determined to win. We chase each other in the lake, laughing and shouting like children. The alcohol in our veins makes everything more fun, more intense.
At one point, I grab her by the waist, trying to submerge her. But Rosie is surprisingly strong. She wriggles, turning towards me. Suddenly, we're face to face, our bodies pressed against each other.
For a moment, we stay like this, panting and surprised. I can see every detail of her face: the water droplets on her eyelashes, the slight blush on her cheeks, her lips slightly parted.
“I got you,”
I whisper, my voice huskier than I'd like.
“Are you sure?”
she responds, a mischievous smile curving her lips.
There's a tension in the air, an electricity that has nothing to do with our usual rivalry. For a moment, I wonder what would happen if I leaned a little closer, if...
But then Rosie splashes water in my eyes and frees herself from my grip, swimming away laughing.
“You'll have to do better than that, cowboy!”
she shouts over her shoulder.
I shake my head, emerging from my trance... I need to clear my thoughts.
What was I thinking? This is Rosie, the city princess, a girl I've only known for a few days. Yet, as I chase her in the lake, I can't help but smile.