Chapter 26
I’m so fucked.
I told myself I don’t care. That it doesn’t matter if Presley stays in Hope Springs because she’s leaving her douchebag husband. That I don’t want to know every detail of her life since she’s been gone and what demons she’s runnin’ from now.
Then, I got to hold her in my arms again.
In a matter of seconds, the impenetrable fortress I’ve built over the years came crumbling down. Now, as I stare down the road long after Presley’s gone, I can’t stop thinking. Wondering. Mentally listing all the ways I can coincidentally—okay, purposefully—cross paths with her, hoping for the chance to hold her again. But I know I’ve got my work cut out for me. There’s darkness living beneath her beautiful hazel eyes. I don’t know what exactly Presley’s experienced in her time away, but I’m confident it’s not good. She has that same haunted look about her I see in the mirror every day. I know what it feels like to keep unpleasant thoughts stuffed inside until you feel like you’re about to implode, and that’s exactly what that woman is doing. She’s well-practiced at it, too, which makes me madder than a pack of wild dogs.
I know I need to tread carefully because trying to solve Presley’s problems is what got us into this mess in the first place. She’s a grown-ass woman, a stubborn one at that, and trying to sniff out the problem so I can fix it isn’t going to do either one of us any good. Speaking of problems... there’s one that I’ve needed to take care of for quite a while now, and I can’t afford to put it off anymore. The bell rings as I open the door to Nicole’s shop. A quick glance around tells me we’re alone, so I launch straight into it before that changes.
A smile stretches across her face as she comes from behind the counter. “Well, this is a nice surprise. What the heck happened to your shirt?” Her grin quickly dies when I step aside, dodging the kiss she tried planting on me.
“Are you free tonight? We need to talk.”
Nicole’s sky-blue eyes widen in panic before she remembers to mask it. She knows nothing ever good happens when I say we need to talk. Unfortunately, every time I’ve tried having this conversation, she’s successfully distracted me. This time, I’m not going to allow my dick to get in the way. And to ensure she doesn’t attempt to dissuade me again, we’re going to have this discussion in public.
“Can you meet me somewhere later? Clay’s bar, maybe?”
“You wanna go out for a drink?” Her brows pinch together.
“And talk,” I remind her.
“We don’t need to go out for that.” She places her open palm on my chest, leaning in. “I have plenty of your favorite whiskey at my place.”
I take another step back, shaking my head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Nic. Meet me at Clay’s. Say at eight o’clock?”
“Why don’t you come to pick me up instead?”
“Can’t. I’m going to be working late tonight. I had a quick errand to run on my lunch break, but I need to get back.” I push open the door and step over the threshold. “I’ll see you at eight.”
Nicole’s still frowning as I exit the store, but I pretend not to notice. I’m not trying to be an asshole, but I don’t want to spend the next thirty minutes listening to her attempted negotiations. I really do need to get back to the ranch.
As I’m rolling up the driveway, I see Mr. J’s truck parked in front of the main house, so I know Presley’s made it back. It takes every bit of willpower I possess to continue driving until I reach my place. As I exit my pickup, I catch movement out of the corner of my eye. They’re a ways away, but there’s no mistaking the gorgeous Arabian nor the stunning blonde walking beside her, taking her by the lead. I know I’m witnessing something special as I watch them. Magnolia’s not wearing a saddle, which tells me Presley has no intention of riding her. The woman may have grown up around horses, but she couldn’t ride bareback to save her life, and I doubt that’s changed during her time up north. This moment between them is intimate, almost, and I feel like a bit of a voyeur, but I can’t force myself to look away.
I move closer, drawn to the wild beauty of it, but I’m mindful about keeping my distance. It’s obvious they’re reconnecting, and the last thing I’d want to do is interrupt like I did last time. Presley strokes the horse’s mane lovingly, and when Magnolia lowers her muzzle to nudge her companion, Presley’s face lights up in laughter. Mag drops her head even farther until their foreheads are touching. Pres runs her hand along the animal’s neck as she’s speaking softly to her. They remain that way for quite some time, the light breeze blowing Presley’s hair around as the two re-establish the bond they once shared as if they had never been apart.
Christ. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more beautiful in my life.
When Presley finally lifts her head, her eyes wander, as if she can sense she’s being watched. When her gaze locks on mine, she freezes. We stare at each other across the space between us, and something shifts in the air. Like an acknowledgment of sorts, mutual respect for our past. Life may have shaped us into different people in some ways, but what happened on that sidewalk earlier proves that not everything has changed. And that small but significant fact has me contemplating something I haven’t thought about in a long time: maybe things between Presley and me aren’t over after all.