Chapter 19
ROWAN
Being home should’ve made everything feel better.
Instead, it just made everything feel more real, and a hell of a lot more scary.
The ranch stretched out around us just like it always had. Quiet, steady, and untouched by everything that had happened in town. The barn stood where it always had, the fences still lined the property, the horses grazing peacefully like nothing had changed.
It all looked the same, and yet so much had changed.
I had done the one thing that I swore I wouldn’t—fall for someone.
It wasn’t that I didn’t believe in love.
I did. I had seen the love my parents had for each other and all the small ways they showed it every day.
I knew love was real. I knew that love made you go all gooey on the inside.
That it changed your judgment. That it made thinking difficult, and your rationality go out the window.
I knew it could make you not trust yourself and your judgment.
I knew it could make you put your whole trust in another person
And that was what scared me.
I didn’t want to ever rely on other people. I didn’t want to put my faith and trust in someone who could let me down. Or worry if they would come through for me.
But mostly, I didn’t want to have my heart broken.
And yet there I was, falling for Tex.
A biker no less, and a criminal to boot.
I wasn’t stupid. I knew that the Kings weren’t always the bad guys.
I saw how they helped our small town in their own way.
How they provided much needed funds to the local preschool when their roof collapsed.
How they gifted thousands of dollars to Maria from our library when her insurance fell through and she couldn’t afford her doctors’ bills.
No, the Kings weren’t exactly the bad guys, but they weren’t exactly the good guys either.
Their legit “businesses” were all fronts, and those that weren’t fronts weren’t exactly the calling cards we wanted for this town. Strip clubs and casinos weren’t what we wanted tourists coming here for.
I groaned into the air and shook my head as I looked around.
My arm was bandaged tight, aching with every small movement. Even the simplest things, like pulling on a shirt or brushing my hair, felt frustratingly difficult.
And Tex, he had barely left my side.
He moved through the house like he belonged there, taking over without asking.
Cooking for us both, checking on the horses and making sure they were looked after—even if it was just ordering the guys that he called prospects to clean out the stables and feed them.
He made sure I took my meds and helped rebandage my arm.
But mostly he watched me like I might disappear if he looked away for too long.
It should’ve annoyed me, but it didn’t.
It did something else instead. Something warmer. Something dangerous.
By late afternoon I stood in the bathroom staring at myself in the mirror. My hair was a tangled mess around my shoulders. My blood was matted into it, going crusty and flaking. I had managed to wash my face, but my hair was impossible.
I sighed as I picked at it. “Great.”
Tex leaned against the doorframe behind me. “You need some help?”
I shook my head quickly. “No, I’m fine.”
He glanced at my arm. “You can’t even lift your arm. I can help if you let me.”
“I can manage.”
He studied me for a second, clearly not convinced. “I can help wash your hair, Rowan. It’s no big deal.”
“No.” My head snapped toward him.
The word came out faster than I meant it to and his eyebrows lifted slightly.
“I wasn’t suggesting anything weird.”
“I know,” I said quickly, heat creeping into my cheeks. “I just… No, I’m fine. I’ll manage.”
For a moment I thought he might argue; instead, he just nodded once.
“All right. You know where I am.” He pushed off the doorframe and walked away without another word.
I stared at my reflection, annoyed at myself.
I didn’t want to upset him or annoy him, and yet that was all I seemed to do.
He had taken on what had happened at the bar as if it was all his fault, but we both knew the truth, and we both knew that none of this was his fault.
It was my parents’ fault. It was the Kings’ fault.
It was the cartels fault. And it was definitely whoever the rat was in their club.
My parents had gotten involved in some shady stuff, and now I was being dragged along for the ride.
Ten minutes later, I heard Tex’s voice downstairs. I crept to the top of the stairs and tried to listen, but the call was short and clipped, and he hung up before I’d managed to catch even a single word.
I wanted to know what was happening. Had they found the rat in their club? Had they discovered where the cartel was hiding out? Were they making moves to eliminate them? Was it possible to eliminate the cartel—and why the hell was I talking like I was in some gangster movie?
“Eliminate the cartel,” I mumbled mockingly to no one.
I rolled my eyes and went back to my room and lay on my bed.
I was just drifting off when I heard a car pull up and then the sound of talking from downstairs drifted up to me. It wasn’t unusual—plenty of people had been turning up from the clubhouse to check on me and the ranch and speak to Tex—but this voice was female.
Climbing off the bed, I headed to the window to look out, but I just missed whoever it was coming inside.
Had Tex phoned for a hookup?
I scowled at the thought, disgust and jealousy rolling around in my belly like bad food. I walked to the door and headed downstairs. There was no way he was doing that in my home!
When I walked into the kitchen, my scowl still on my face, Tex and a woman turned to look at me.
Her dark hair was pulled into a long, loose braid, her blue eyes standing out against her pale, freckled skin.
She had a leather jacket slung casually over her shoulders, and one hand on her leather-clad hip.
“You must be Rowan,” she said with an easy smile.
“Uh…yeah.”
She jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “Tex called me. Said you needed help.”
I turned toward him slowly. “You called for reinforcements?”
He shrugged like it was nothing. “You said no to me.”
I opened my mouth to argue and then closed it again, because honestly? I did need help.
The woman stepped forward, holding out her hand.
“I’m Jordan,” she said. “C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up.”
Upstairs in the bathroom, Jordan worked like it was second nature—gently guiding me to lean back, carefully washing my hair without tugging too hard or getting water anywhere near the bandage.
“You’re lucky,” she said casually. “Most guys wouldn’t think to do this.”
I huffed a small laugh. “Yeah, well, Tex isn’t exactly like most guys.”
“No,” she agreed. “He’s not.”
There was something in her tone that made me glance at her.
“What?”
She smiled slightly. “Nothing.”
“You know something.” I narrowed my eyes.
“Maybe.”
I rolled my eyes. “Well, come on, out with it.”
She rinsed the shampoo from my hair before answering. “Can I ask what’s going on between you two?”
My stomach flipped. “Us? Nothing.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Seriously!”
She raised an eyebrow. “Then why are you blushing?”
I hadn’t even realized I was. “I’m not—”
“You are.”
I groaned softly. “There’s nothing happening between us. We’re just…I don’t know.”
Jordan smiled, but it wasn’t teasing anymore, just knowing.
“You know,” she said, reaching for a towel and placing it over my wet hair, “there have been women trying to tie that man down for years.”
That made something twist in my chest, but I wasn’t stupid, I knew what she meant.
There were plenty of women in town that wanted a biker as a trophy.
I had never been one of them though. But women could be fierce and determined when they wanted something.
I had seen plenty of women fight over a man before, and plenty of women fight over less.
She laughed lightly. “Don’t look like that. No one’s mad at you.”
“I’m not—”
“They’re jealous, darlin’,” she said simply. “They wanna know what your secret is.”
I blinked. “What?”
“Everyone’s seen the way he looks at you.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“It’s really not.” She wrapped the towel gently around my hair. “And for what it’s worth,” she added, “he’s never looked at anyone else like that before.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I stayed quiet.
Jordan studied me for a moment longer and then her voice softened slightly. “If you don’t want anything to happen though, you should tell him.”
My chest tightened. “I’m not leading him on.”
“I didn’t say you were, darlin’,” she said gently. “Just, don’t let him think there’s something there if there isn’t. Even if that something was all in his head to begin with.”
The words sat heavy in my chest. Because the truth was, I didn’t know what I wanted. I had wanted to kiss him more than once since I met him. I wanted to feel his arms around me, holding me close again and I had daydreamed about what it would feel like having him as mine.
Jordan smiled again, lighter this time. “Anyway. You’re all set.”
She helped me back downstairs, freshly washed hair falling softly around my shoulders. At the door, she pulled my phone from my hand and quickly typed something in.
“There,” she said. “That’s my number. Call me if you need anything.”
I smiled. “Thank you. Really.”
She winked. “Anytime.” Then she glanced at Tex. “Try not to scare her off—I like her.”
He smirked slightly. “No promises.”
Jordan laughed and headed out the door and the house fell quiet again. I turned toward the kitchen and stopped.
Tex had set the table with two plates and some cutlery and even two wine glasses he must have found from the back of one of the cupboards.
The food was out already, steam rising from the plates. And in the center of the table a candle flickered softly, casting warm light across the room.
My chest tightened unexpectedly. “You did all this?” I asked quietly.
He shrugged, suddenly looking almost unsure of himself. “Figured you deserved a decent meal after everything you’ve been through recently.”
“You’ve been running around cooking for me for days.”
“Bacon and eggs ain’t proper cooking, sweetheart.”
For a moment I stood there, just looking at him. At the man who fought like a storm, who carried me through gunfire, and was now stood in my kitchen lighting candles like it was the most normal thing in the world.
And I had no idea what to do with how that made me feel.