Chapter 16
Alex
I can't get Rosie out of my head. All day, I've been watching her move around the ranch in those damn overalls that look incredibly good on her. Her hair tucked under her cowgirl hat, with a few rebellious strands caressing her face... it's a breathtaking sight.
I see her laughing with the other girls while picking fruit, her face illuminated by the sun and a joy I've never seen in her before. She seems so at ease, so... right here. As if she belongs in this place.
I find myself searching for her wherever I go. When I'm in the stables, I catch myself looking towards the orchard. When I'm working on the fences, my eyes wander to the house, hoping to see her come out. It's a constant and dangerous distraction.
And the situation is definitely getting worse. I can't focus on work; I'm risking making stupid mistakes. This morning, I almost left the calf pen gate open, all because I saw her pass by with a basket of apples and couldn't take my eyes off her.
I think about the evening the guys want to organize, the opportunity to get closer to Rosie. But now I realize it's a terrible idea. I can't afford to get any closer. I can't risk falling even deeper into... whatever this is.
No, I have to go back to being the annoying cowboy. I need to keep my distance, protect myself. Protect her. Because I know that in the end, she'll leave, return to her life in Los Angeles, and I'll be left here with a broken heart.
But how can I annoy her? How can I push her away when all I want is to draw her to me?
I see her heading towards the stables, and I know this is my chance. I take a deep breath, trying to summon that part of me that knows how to provoke her, how to make her angry.
"Hey, princess!" I call out as she approaches. "I see you're trying to blend in. Too bad your five-hundred-dollar-a-liter perfume gives you away.”
What I don’t admit is how much I’m obsessed with her fragrance. How desperately I want to bury my face in her hair, trail my nose along her neck, and breathe her in, losing myself in her essence forever. I don’t tell anyone that her perfume fills every breath I take or that I’d peeked into her room when she’d left the door open—just to find out what she wears. I’d seen it on her dresser: small, delicate, elegant, and pink. I couldn’t have imagined anything else. Miss Dior feels like it was made for her.
I see her face contort into a grimace of irritation. "Oh, really? At least I don't smell like I've bathed in a mud puddle."
"Touché," I reply with a smirk. "But at least I know how to tell a cow from a bull. Or do you need Google for that?"
Her eyes flash with anger. "I don't need Google to figure out that you're an idiot, Alex.”
I’m an idiot. And this... this really hurts. It hurts to hear what she thinks of me, even if she’s saying it in a moment of irritation. But it’s just another reminder that someone like Rosie could never see anything good in someone like me. And I’m the idiot who’s obsessed with her, the one who’s bound to end up with a broken heart.
What stings even more is the look of disappointment in her eyes.
Well, Rosie, if you thought there was something different about me, you were wrong. There’s nothing good here, and the sooner you realize that, the better it’ll be for both of us.
I throw back a theatrical remark, but it’s all a mask. The truth is, I just want to disappear.
"Ouch, that hurts," I say, bringing a hand to my chest in feigned pain. "Almost as much as it must hurt to walk in those heels in the fields. Oh wait, you've finally abandoned them?"
"You know what, Alex?" she finally says, her voice sharp as a razor. "At least I have a life beyond this ranch. What will you do when you're too old to play cowboy? Tell stories to the cattle?"
Her jab hits me harder than I'd like to admit. "Better to tell stories to the cattle than live an empty life in a big city, right?"
"Empty?" she hisses. "At least my life has a future, Alex. What do you have beyond this land and a few horses?"
Her words wound me deeply, but I try not to show it. "I have freedom, Rosie. Something you'll never know the meaning of, trapped in your golden cage."
I see a flash of pain in her eyes, quickly replaced by anger. "You know what? You're right. I'm not a cowgirl, and I don't want to be one. I prefer my 'golden cage' to a life wasted playing tough guy with cows!"
With these words, she turns and leaves, leaving me with a mixture of bitter satisfaction and deep regret. I got what I wanted: I pushed her away. But the pain in her eyes, the hurt in her voice... it makes me feel like I've made a terrible mistake.
I watch her walk away, her determined stride betraying her anger. A part of me wants to run after her, but I remain motionless, paralyzed by the inner conflict that's consuming me.
I run a hand over my face, suddenly feeling exhausted. What am I doing? Why am I so attracted to a girl I barely know and who belongs to a completely different world from mine? It's as if we're two planets in different orbits, destined to brush past each other but never truly meet.
I think back to the moments we've shared: the night swim, dancing under the stars, even our bickering. There's a spark between us, undeniable and powerful. But is it enough to bridge the chasm that separates us?
"Hey, cowboy," a familiar voice calls from behind me. I turn to see Chris standing there, his brow slightly furrowed, concern etched into his rugged features. His hands are stuffed into his jeans pockets, but his posture is loose, casual—like he’s trying not to push too hard. "I saw everything. You alright?"
My brother steps closer, placing a firm hand on my shoulder. His piercing eyes, a striking mix of amber and green, lock onto mine, reading me the way he always does—like I’m an open book. A wave of gratitude swells in my chest. Chris has always been my anchor, the one person who can see through the layers of bullshit I try to wrap myself in.
And for once, I don’t bother pretending. I let out a heavy sigh, rubbing the back of my neck. "I don’t know, Chris. Everything just feels... complicated."
Chris nods slowly, his face softening as he gives my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "What’s the real problem?" he asks, his tone steady but probing, his voice as calm as a still lake.
What’s the real problem? Hell, I wish I knew.
One moment, I’m burning up with desire, scanning every corner of the ranch just for a glimpse of Rosie, craving the way her presence lights up the air around her. Every move she makes, every subtle shift, seems designed to set my blood on fire. But then, just as quickly, I’m furious—at her, at myself—because I can’t stand how completely she’s taken over my thoughts. She’s everywhere, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t push her out of my head. It’s maddening, this tug-of-war between wanting her so badly it aches and resenting her for making me feel this way.Chris waits patiently, but I can feel his eyes on me, tracking every flicker of emotion that crosses my face.
"It’s a good question, bro," I mutter finally, the words heavy on my tongue. Because what else can I say? I’m as lost as he is.
Chris nudges me gently toward the low stone wall nearby, his hand briefly pressing against my back. "C’mon, sit," he says, his tone light but firm. He hops up to sit beside me, boots scuffing the dusty surface, and I follow suit, our shoulders almost touching. It’s like when we were kids, sitting on the barn roof, hashing out life’s problems over cans of soda.
"Listen," he begins, resting his forearms on his thighs, his hands dangling loosely between his knees. He glances at me sideways, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I think this girl’s got you more twisted up than a barbed wire fence. And you know what? That’s not a bad thing. I’ve never seen you lose your cool over anyone."
I scoff, shaking my head, but before I can argue, Chris raises a hand, cutting me off with a playful look that says, Don’t even try it.
"Bro," he says, his voice dropping an octave, more serious now, "I know letting people in scares the hell out of you. It’s been that way since... you know. I’ve seen it. I’ve seen you. So don’t waste your breath denying it." His gaze softens as he nudges me lightly with his elbow. "Maybe you’re losing your head over her. Or maybe," he adds, his smirk returning, "you just need to get laid. Either way, live a little."
I huff out a laugh despite myself, shaking my head at his audacity.
"If you want to joke around with her, do it. If you want to flirt, try it. See where it goes. But don’t do this, man." He gestures at me with a small wave of his hand, like he’s trying to encompass the mess I’m in. "Don’t sabotage everything before it even has the chance to be something."
His words hit me like a one-two punch. He’s always known how to cut through my defenses, and this time is no different. Chris has this way of balancing tough love with genuine care, and it’s why I’ve always trusted him with the things I can’t say to anyone else.
I swallow hard, my throat tight, and stare down at my boots, scuffing the dirt beneath them. "Thanks," I say finally, my voice low but full of meaning. It’s not much, but I know he gets it. He always does.
Chris smiles, clapping me on the shoulder before standing and stretching with a groan. "We’re family, bro. We’re all here for you. But if you ever need just me, you know where to find me."
He tosses me a wink, the teasing glint back in his eyes as he heads off toward the barn. I watch him go, a small smile tugging at my lips. Chris always knows how to leave me feeling seen, and for that, I’m endlessly grateful.
As Chris walks away, I find myself staring at the spot where Rosie disappeared. With a deep breath, I head towards the stables. I have work to do, and for now, it's better to focus on that. The familiarity of daily tasks comforts me, anchors me to the reality of the ranch that has always been my life.
I feel like a complete idiot. Maybe I should apologize to Rosie... although from her response, she doesn't seem to have a high opinion of me and what I do.
And how did you expect her to respond?
I practically asked her to insult me... and I ruined a moment when she seemed serene and relaxed.
All because of my stupidity. Because of my absurd convictions. Because of fear.
And as the day progresses, the weight of the words I exchanged with Rosie weighs more heavily on me. Thinking back to our conversation, I realize that this time I might have really crossed the line. It wasn't our usual playful banter; there was venom in our words, an intention to hurt that had never been there before.
I stop, leaning against the fence. What came over me? Our relationship has always been made up of jokes and provocations; it's my way of being. But before... before it was different.
What if I had lost her before I even really had her? If I had ruined everything before giving us a real chance?
I sigh heavily, running a hand through my hair. I can't deny that there's something between us, an attraction, a spark that goes beyond our differences. But perhaps it's precisely the fear of this attraction that pushed me to behave this way.
I think back to the words we exchanged.
At least I have a life beyond this ranch.
Golden cage.
We hurt each other, touching each other's most sensitive points.
But why? Why do I feel the need to push her away like this? Is it really just because we're too different, or is there something else?
I can't deny that since that damn first time I saw her, Rosie Thorne hasn't left my mind.
I just hope my stupid heart isn't involved too.
In any case... I need to find a way to apologize to Rosie.
And there you have it, ladies and gentlemen, another thing I'm not good at.
Did I mention I'm a disaster?!