Chapter 38
I love you
Layla
Waiting for the Uber to pick me up now from the airport…
breathing in the Tennessee air and heat.
It slams into me the second I step outside the terminal—thick, humid, alive with the scent of sun-baked earth, pine, wild grass, and that faint, sweet trace of hay carried on the wind.
My lungs fill with it, and I swear I can taste the ranch already.
Butterflies riot in my tummy—wild, frantic, hopeful, terrified.
I couldn’t even last a week without being in his arms. Without seeing his face.
Without him. Without the ranch. Tennessee is my home now.
Not Seattle. Not the gray rain and concrete. Here. With him.
Your Uber has arrived, alert shows up on my phone. I walk over to the car that just pulled up—old sedan, AC blasting out the open window, faint pine air freshener mixing with cigarette smoke.
“For Layla?”
“Yes ma’am,” she says, smiling warm and tired.
“How are you darling?” she asks, glancing in the rearview as I slide into the backseat, leather warm from the sun against my thighs.
“I’m wonderful. How are you?” I ask, buckling my seatbelt, the click is loud in the quiet.
“Doing great honey. Where to?”
I give her the address to the ranch and she starts playing music. Old country, low and twangy, steel guitar sliding under the lyrics. I lean my head against the window, cool glass against my temple, watching the airport fade in the side mirror.
I’ve always wanted to love someone like Cole.
Steady. Quiet. Strong in ways that don’t need words.
I hope he’ll forgive me for leaving. I hope he’ll give me the chance to show him how much I love him and that I will never leave ever again.
My fingers trace the edge of my phone in my lap—no messages.
No missed calls. Just silence. It stings, but it doesn’t surprise me.
He’s never been the type to chase. But I’m the one chasing now.
This is the longest car ride. The highway stretches forever—billboards blurring past, semis rumbling by, the sun baking the dashboard until the air inside feels thick and warm.
My knee bounces. My heart won’t slow. Every mile feels like peeling off a layer of the city I tried to force myself back into.
But as soon as we turn onto the ranch driveway—gravel crunching under the tires, dust rising in the late-afternoon light—my stomach flips.
Not from nerves. From finally being back home where I’m supposed to be.
The trees open up, the fields roll out wide and green, the barn in the distance with its tin roof glinting.
I can smell it already—hay, earth, horse, home. Tears prick my eyes. I blink them back.
John, Nancy, and Maggie are all standing out front on the porch. When the car pulls up, Maggie’s face lights up—bright, shocked and joyful.
I hop out quickly, shuffling in my heels, gravel sharp under the thin soles, but I don’t care. “Thank you,” I say to the Uber driver as she pulls away, tires crunching off.
“It’s good to have you back, city girl,” Maggie says, walking up to me fast, arms already open.
I pull my sunglasses up. “It’s good to be home,” I say, voice cracking just a little, throat tight.
She hugs me tight, warm, fierce, smelling like hairspray and sunscreen. I hug back harder, eyes stinging.
“Where is he?” I ask, pulling away.
“He’s fixing the fence on pasture 29. It’s about 3 miles down—”
“I know where it is,” I smile, real this time, heart pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat.
“Of course you do.” She laughs, bright, relieved.
I run to the barn, heels clicking, heart slamming.
Shadow’s stall door is already half-open.
He sees me and nickers low, ears pricked forward, stomping once like he’s been waiting.
I get him out—his coat warm under my hands, mane soft against my fingers.
I can tell he’s happy by the neighs and stomps he gives me.
I kiss his nose—warm velvet, sweet hay breath.
“I missed you baby. Now let’s go find daddy,” I whisper, undoing my heels, bare feet hitting the ground cool and gritty. I climb onto him without a saddle—who needs that—gripping his mane, thighs clamping tight around his sides.
“Let’s go.” I kick and he takes off—as soon as we exit the barn, Maggie whistles from up the hill. It just fuels me more.
The ride feels good, heart pounding, wind whipping through my hair, braid unraveling, Tennessee warmth wrapping around me like no other.
Feeling the breeze on my body, the sun on my skin, my horse under me—so grounding, so right.
I see Cole up ahead—silhouette against the fence line, hammer in hand, shirt clinging to his back from sweat.
He turns around and freezes when he sees me. I slow Shadow down.
“Woah boy.” I slide off him—bare feet hitting grass, warm and soft—and slowly start walking towards Cole.
“Need a hand?” I ask—voice steadier than I feel.
“What are you doing here?” he says, voice rough, low, eyes wide like he’s seeing a ghost.
“I was missing home,” I say, simple, true, my voice cracking on the last word.
He turns his head at me like he’s trying to understand, jaw tight, toothpick rolling between his lips, eyes searching mine.
“You don’t have to say it back. I know you —”
“I love you,” he interrupts, voice cracking, raw, breaking on the words like they’ve been trapped inside him too long.
Still walking towards him, slow, steady, heart slamming against my ribs.
“This is my home and I want to stay here if you’ll have me,” I say, tears burning my eyes now, voice trembling.
He runs to me, drops everything in his hands, hammer, gloves, fence staples clattering to the ground and runs to me, lifting me into the air.
My legs wrap around his waist instinctively, arms around his neck, and our mouths crash—hard, desperate, tongues tangling, teeth clashing.
He tastes like salt and sweat and coffee and him—everything I’ve been starving for.
In between kisses:
“I love you baby,” he says, voice wrecked, hands gripping my hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh there.
“I love you Cole. I love you so much,” I whisper against his mouth, tears mixing with our kiss.
“I’ve loved you since the first time I laid eyes on you. And letting you leave here without you knowing that was the biggest mistake of my life. I’ve missed you every second—”
“It’s only been a week,” I interrupt—half-laugh, half-sob.
“It felt like a hundred,” he says, looking me in the eyes while my feet hit the ground—boots solid in the grass, his arms still locked around me.
“Anything you want I will do it. You are everything I’ve always wanted.
You consume me. You’re all I think about.
All I look for. I’ve felt like a ghost since you’ve been gone.
You are my world. I want you forever. I love you freckles across your nose, the way your hips jiggle when you walk.
The way your hair lays on your shoulders.
Your eyes, that smile. You make me want to change.
You make me better. There’s nobody else for me but you baby. ”
“Kiss me damnit,” I say—voice breaking, hands fisting his shirt.
He does—deep, claiming, like he’s making up for every second we lost. His hands slide down, gripping my ass, pulling me flush against him.
I moan into his mouth—loud, needy—legs wrapping tighter around his waist. The world narrows to this: his mouth on mine, his body hard against me, the sun warm on my back, grass under my bare feet, Tennessee air thick with heat and promise.