Chapter 4-Sawyer
I shouldn’t have kissed her.
Goddamn it, I should not have kissed her.
The taste of strawberry sweetness still lingers on my lips, haunting me while I run through the checklist for tomorrow’s run.
Tires—checked.
Freezer temp—checked.
Fuel—topped off.
Papers—all in order.
Security measures—taken.
Everything’s ready.
Everything except my head.
Micah and Benji are already on the road, heading east to meet me in Ohio.
Destiny’s Enforcers MC will provide an escort from here to there—Rooster’s guys, good men for bad jobs. I trust them enough to get me and the shipment through any rough stretches.
It should be simple.
It needs to be simple.
Brentwood Cattle’s a big deal—too big to screw up.
This is the run that’ll put Jersey Iron on the map.
The one that’ll finally get me out from under this damn financial hole I’m in because of all the fucking damage my mystery enemy caused.
The one that will prove that walking away from war didn’t mean walking away from purpose.
But all I can think about is her.
Lil Bit.
The way she looked at me before I kissed her—half shock, half something else I’m too proud to name.
That kiss was supposed to shut her up. Remind her who’s in charge around here.
Instead, it scrambled me completely.
She’s more sass and fire than I gave her credit for.
Hell, I don’t know if that bull was actually going to charge her or if he just wanted a better look.
Wouldn’t surprise me if she had him under some kind of spell—same as she’s done with everyone else on this ranch.
Alex smiles more—yes, it’s annoying.
Diego whistles again. Angie bakes like we’ve got a full house of hungry farmhands.
All because one woman showed up out of nowhere.
Did she listen when I told her to stay out of the pens?
Of course not.
Diego told me she wandered right into the barn after our little interaction, found the orphan calves in there, and started bottle-feeding them before he could stop her.
Said she talked to them the whole time—soft, patient, like she’d been doing it all her life.
And damn it all if that image doesn’t hit me somewhere deep, right in the part of me I’ve tried to keep closed off since the war.
I don’t keep beef cattle here, just a small herd of strong, dependable cows and a few prize bulls for breeding.
The orphans? I take them in because someone has to. Because I know what it’s like to be left behind, waiting for someone who never comes back.
She gets that. She understands.
I see it in her eyes.
I grip the edge of the workbench, forcing my thoughts back to the manifest, to the numbers, to anything but her.
I’ve got too much riding on this run to be distracted by a woman who doesn’t belong here. A woman who’s only passing through.
She’s got her demons, and I’ve got enough of my own to fill a lifetime.
I’ve got nothing to offer her but scars and memories.
And yet, when I look out the barn window and catch a glimpse of her walking toward the pasture—hair catching the early afternoon sun, laughter trailing behind her—my chest tightens in a way I haven’t felt in years.
I shouldn’t have kissed her.
But the real mistake would be pretending I don’t already want to do it again.