Chapter 18
Egg on her head
Layla
It’s been a few days since Cole left for Texas, and this morning I’m really starting to kind of miss him.
I guess? God, I hate even saying that—even in my own head it feels too vulnerable, too attached.
We’re supposed to be nothing more than friends with benefits, hot, no-strings, mind-melting sex that leaves me boneless and smiling for hours. That’s the deal we agreed on.
But now that he’s gone, the ranch feels…
off. Like someone turned down the volume on everything.
No low rumble of his voice in the kitchen at dawn, no heavy boots on the porch steps, no sudden appearance at the guest house door with that crooked half-grin and a plate of eggs like it’s no big deal. The quiet is louder without him.
The pool helps distract me, but even floating in that water he built for me just reminds me of him, his hands lifting me, his laugh when he tossed me in, the way he looked at me like I was the whole damn reason for the lights under the surface.
Nancy and Maggie have been incredible company, warm, easy, pulling me into their routines like I’ve always belonged. Breakfast chatter, sharing stories about the ranch’s history, Maggie teasing me about my “city girl” habits.
Yesterday I took a little break from writing, dragged one of those huge inflatable floats into the deep end, and just…
drifted. Sun on my skin, water lapping gentle against the sides, trying to get a tan like a normal person.
Big mistake. I forget sometimes that my skin doesn’t bronze; it just turns pink and angry, then peels in embarrassing patches.
Today my shoulders are still tender, a faint red stripe across my collarbone, but it was worth it for those few minutes of peace, staring up at the sky and pretending I wasn’t thinking about how much quieter the ranch feels without his growl telling Luke to “quit fuckin’ around.”
Being alone like this, without my mind constantly occupied by Cole’s hands on me or his teasing or the way he watches me when he thinks I’m not looking…
it’s got me deep in my feelings. About not having a family.
About how Cole’s family has started slipping into that empty space without even trying.
They’re loud, messy, loving in this effortless, no-questions-asked way I’ve never had growing up.
Dinners where everyone talks over each other, inside jokes I’m starting to understand, Nancy slipping me extra biscuits like I’m one of hers, Maggie checking if I need anything before she heads to bed.
It’s dangerous how natural it feels. How much I don’t want to leave come August. But I have to.
Don’t I? Deadlines, tours, my apartment in Seattle with its tiny balcony and constant rain.
That’s my life. This is… temporary. Right?
I pull out my phone to text Ashley, needing a lifeline before I spiral too hard.
Me: Hey bestie. How are you? Miss you and the kids.
Ashley: hey boo, how’s Tennessee? And the hot cowboy of yours? Are you almost done with the book? I need some new smut in my life. Especially my best friends! We all miss you too. You should make a pit stop before heading back to Seattle.
Me: I love you for saying that. Cowboy is gone this week. Kind of missing him. New smut coming soon! And I’d love to but Tina is killing me with these dates. I just wanted to check in, love you.
Ashley: love you Lay.
Jeez, that made me a little happier. I love catching up with her, we both have such busy lives and don’t see each other nearly enough, but just the small check-ins are good. A quick hit of normalcy.
Maggie and I are going to have a girls’ night down at the pool tonight, maybe even Nancy too. Grill some burgers and hot dogs, give Nancy a break from cooking. Something fun to shake off this ache in my chest.
I throw my swimsuit on—the purple-and-pink one-piece that hugs my curves just right, makes me feel sexy even with the faint sunburn and pack my pool bag: laptop for a little writing, notebook, extra sunscreen– lesson learned–towel, a couple of cold waters, and the brown sugar for the burgers I’m planning to make later plus the korean barbeque sauce for the bulgogi as well.
I head outside to get some fresh air and maybe squeeze in a chapter before we set up.
But as soon as I step out the guest house door, I hear a commotion, raised voices, sharp and angry, carrying up from the main house.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Maggie is yelling.
I quickly walk up the sidewalk toward the main house to see a pretty blonde—skinny, absolutely stunning girl—standing in front of Maggie. She looks terrified. Nancy is trying to calm her down.
“Maggie stop it,” Nancy yells.
“No, the fuck is she doing here? You have some nerve coming back here after what you did to my brother!” Maggie yells right in her face.
Her brother? Oh my god. It’s Abby.
“Abby?” I say out loud, not meaning to and I cover my mouth quickly.
Maggie nods. “Sure is.”
Nancy walks up to Maggie and Abby. “Here’s your eggs, honey. Tell your father I said hello.” Nancy hands Abby the huge basket.
“Her father is sick so Abby called and asked if she could swing by. Cole is not here, I figured it wouldn’t be a problem. But obviously I was mistaken.” Nancy pats Maggie’s back and heads back into the house.
I walk closer to Maggie, touch her arm gently. “Maggie, come on, it’s okay.”
She starts to calm down, shoulders dropping, but her eyes are still blazing.
“Don’t let my brother ever see you here. You stay away from him.” She shoots at Abby as Abby walks back to her truck and hops inside.
“You okay?” I ask her softly.
“I’m fine. I hate—I really don’t like her. What she did to my brother. Hurt him like that. Disappeared, married some other guy, had kids. I mean, what a fucking bitch.”
“I know. But at least Cole didn’t see her, right?” I say.
“Yeah,” she mumbles.
“I’m sorry you had to see me like that, Layla,” she says, voice quieter now.
“We’re all human, Maggie. We all have our limits. If I had a sister like you, or a brother like Cole, I’d probably be the same way.”
She smiles back—small, grateful, the anger fading into something softer.
“We’re going to have so much fun tonight. I’m going to grill. You and Nancy bring the drinks.”
“I can’t wait,” she says.
“Girl time!” I holler back as I’m walking down the sidewalk to head back to the pool to start setting up everything for tonight.
This is much needed for all of us. And I get to show off my Korean barbecue skills and the all-time American hamburgers and dogs skills.
I put brown sugar in my burgers and people seem to really like it.
Plus I’ve never got to cook for them before, so it will be nice to show my appreciation.
Maybe tonight I can stop thinking about Cole for five minutes.
Or about how empty the ranch feels without him.
Or about Abby showing up like a ghost from his past, reminding me exactly why I should keep my heart locked up tight.
God, that blonde—Abby—she’s so… tiny. Skinny in that effortless, model-like way, long legs, perfect hair, the kind of pretty that turns heads without trying. And Cole was with her for eleven years. Proposed to her. Built a whole guest house for her.
My stomach twists hard as I walk back down the path. I’d love to pop an egg right on her head—smash one of those perfect farm-fresh ones right into that flawless blonde hair and watch it drip down her pretty face.
Petty? Absolutely. But she hurt him. Left him broken, ring on the nightstand, and now she waltzes back for eggs like nothing happened? Like she didn’t shatter the man who’s been slowly putting me back together without even realizing it?
And then there’s me—fat, soft in all the places she’s sharp, hips and thighs and breasts that fill out every swimsuit and make me feel sexy until moments like this when the comparison hits.
I’m bigger. Always have been. Thicker thighs, fuller ass, the kind of body that doesn’t fit in tiny bikinis or look delicate next to someone like her.
Does Cole prefer that? The skinny, city-girl perfection he almost married?
Or does he like this—me, softer, more… real?
The way he grabs my hips like he can’t get enough, growls about my curves driving him wild…
but what if that’s just talk? What if deep down he misses the easy, delicate thing he lost?
Stop it, Layla. You’re spiraling. She’s the past. I shake my head, force a breath.
Tonight’s for girls. For laughing. For margaritas and music and pretending my heart isn’t doing somersaults every time I think about him.
I’ll grill, I’ll dance, I’ll get tipsy enough to forget Abby’s perfect face for a few hours. Hopefully.
Everything is finally set up—the music’s playing low and sultry through the Bluetooth speaker, a little R&B mix I threw together, perfect for winding down, the pool floats are all inflated and bobbing lazily in the water like colorful islands, string lights twinkling overhead now that the sun’s dipped low.
The bulgogi is almost done on the grill—marinated steak sizzling, that sweet-savory soy-garlic-sesame smell drifting everywhere, making my mouth water.
Burgers and hot dogs are finished too, stacked on a platter with buns toasted just right, brown sugar mixed into the patties like Ashley taught me.
I’m proud, everything looks great, cozy and inviting under the lights. I can’t wait to show Maggie and Nancy just how much I appreciate them. They’ve welcomed me like I’ve always been here, and tonight feels like the perfect way to say thank you without saying it outright.
“Oooh, something smells good,” Maggie says as she walks down the path to the pool, barefoot and already grinning.
“This looks fantastic,” Nancy says right behind her, voice warm.
Nancy looks so proper, huge sundress fluttering in the breeze, wide-brimmed hat shading her face, light cover-up tied at the waist like she’s ready for a garden party. Fancy, elegant, effortless.