16. Storm
I don’t remember leaving the barn on Monday. Couldn’t even tell you if I closed up for the day properly.
I know my feet wobbled.
My heart raced.
My mind was on overdrive—but that came later. After I got home and stared at the ceiling until exhaustion took over.
What I can tell you is the amount of times my alarm went off this morning just to get me out of bed.
And the first thing I touched—were my lips. Like I could still feel him there.
The heat of his mouth. The pressure. The way I waited for it to feel like a mistake. A stupid reckless one. And it never came.
Which is probably the problem.
I exhale slowly, forcing my shoulders to drop as I breathe in the late afternoon autumn air as I ride Skye uphill toward Dallas’s house.
I’ve been stopping to sit with Willow at least once a week since she’d given birth—feeling like she could use the company.
And I could use a gal pal. Especially when she practically started pulling me off the field to come hang out with her and Rose and an afternoon mocktail.
I knew he’d be a good kisser.
Just knew it. I couldn’t just believe it and move on. No—I had to go and find out. Had to listen to Rose.
I press my lips together, like that might do something about it.
What it does is bring it all back. The look right before. The words right after. The ones that landed low in my stomach.
I drag in a breath and let it out slow, grounding myself in it.
I’ve gone years without letting Silas Thorne take up space in my life like that. In my head. Not about to start now because of one impulsive moment in a barn.
I circle around to the back porch, where I know Willow’s been sitting with Emmit to watch the sunset each night. Willow smiles at me—warm, welcome, friendly—completely oblivious to the chaos in my mind. And it’s perfect.
Just what I need.
“’Bout time you made it out here. Do I need to tell Wilder to work me into your schedule?” she teases.
I climb up the steps and give her a quick squeeze. “You’re not a chore. And I promise, one of these days, I’m going to get a sitter for Max and we’re going to go out on the town and drink like grown-ups. None of this mocktail business after you’re done breastfeedin’.”
She laughs, setting her month-old baby down in his bassinet.
“He’s so precious.”
“Thank you. Tell ya, if you told me this time last year, I’d be holding a baby—much less my own—I’d have told you your crystal ball’s broken.”
I laugh. “Yeah, I know the feeling.”
She watches me. “I’m sorry. I know it’s not exactly the same with Max.”
Willow and I haven’t spoken a lot, just a quick catch-up occasionally. Same with Rose. They both know Max was unplanned and straight out of high school. But I’ve left it at that. Neither of us were ready. He left and I chose to be a mother.
“Not really, but I guess it can be strange at any age once you have your first.”
She smiles down at Emmit.
“Are you excited for the wedding?”
“I was happy with the first one,” she mutters.
“You mean the fake one?”
Willow looks up like she’s considering it, her deep red hair shining in the sun.
“The complicated one.” Her smile grows deeper.
“I mean, don’t get me wrong, it was the best night of my life.
The night we conceived this little guy. But I guess we owe it to ourselves and everyone we know to have a big ’ol party with horses, champagne, and no other reason to get married than wanting to spend the rest of our lives together. ”
I give a small smile.
And then I remember that not much gets past this city girl. “You’re not a big romantic, are you?” Willow asks.
I hesitate. “No, I guess I’m not.”
She shifts on the porch swing. “Here. Come sit with me. I need more friends. Never get to gossip anymore.”
I laugh and sit next to her. “All right but just for a few minutes. I’m still on the clock.”
“I won’t tell if you won’t.”
“I haven’t had the best experience with men. The first guy I had a real crush on ghosted me in high school. The first man I slept with knocked me up and paid me to keep quiet.”
“Take it the payout wasn’t enough to last eighteen years?”
I shake my head. “I didn’t even want the money. But my parents made me take it in exchange for him signing away rights.”
“Smart move.”
“Maybe.” I shake my head. “I don’t regret my son. Love him to death. But I do wish . . .”
“It was with someone else?”
I scrunch my nose, almost feeling guilty for it. Like I resent a part of where Max comes from. “Yeah.”
“Like Silas?”
I look at her, my eyes stretching slightly.
“Doesn’t take a genius to figure out he’s the one who ghosted you in high school, given you two grew up on the ranch. Plus, I see the way you look at him.”
“I don’t look at him in any way,” I argue.
“You look like you want to punch him and kiss him all at the same time. Harder on the punch though.”
I laugh. “Oh yeah, then maybe I do.”
Willow’s grin is wide, proud of herself. “I’ve still got it. So what’s going on there?”
“Well, I didn’t punch him yesterday—but I did kiss him.”
She sits up, baby cooing with the sudden shift. “See, this is what I’m talking about. Tell me more.”
“There’s nothing to tell. It was one of those kisses where you just have to see, you know?”
“And?”
I close my eyes. “I wish I hadn’t.”
“Yeah,” Willow breathes, sitting back. “The Thorne men’ll have that effect on you.”
“I can’t undo it,” I whine. “And the worst part—”
Dallas rides up on Trouble, his lips spreading when he finds his wife and baby on the back porch. “Hey, Sunset.” His eyes flick to me with a warm smile. “Storm.”
I’m prepared to stand to get back to work when Willow shoots a hand out to stop me and growls at her husband. “You have the worst timing.”
“This coming from the woman who set a wedding date three weeks after having a baby.” He jumps off his stallion and comes over to us, bending to kiss the top of her head.
“Sweetheart, I love you, but you are not ruining girl talk for me.”
He sighs, tearing his eyes off his newborn son. “Let me just go get cleaned up and I’ll take him from you.” He looks at me. “She complaining about me?”
“Nope.”
He narrows his eyes. “You complainin’ about me?”
I grin. “Only when I’m here on Sundays.”
He winces. “Fair enough. I’ll be right back. Carry on.”
Willow releases a breath. “Where were we? Oh, you were saying, the worst part of kissing him? Though I can’t imagine what that might be.”
“The worst part is . . . he kissed me back like he’d been waiting forever to do it.”
“Why is that bad again?”
“Because it’s Silas. He’s not stickin’ around here.”
Willow hums. “Yeah. Bet he has heartbreaker written all over him too.”
I glance over at her. “You see it too?”
We laugh just as Dallas steps out smelling like soap. He’s wearing a fresh T-shirt and carrying a bottle of beer and one hot mug of tea. He sets down Willow’s tea and hands me the beer bottle. “I’d offer you wine, but we’re all out.”
I take it tentatively. “Thanks, boss, but I’ve still got an hour into my shift.”
“No, you’ve still got an hour before you got to pick up Max. Hang out for a bit.” He winks, then bends to pick up Emmit and steps back into the house.
“He’s a good one,” I assure Willow, taking a sip.
She lifts her tea carefully with two hands, settling into the pillows. “They all are.” She assures me right back, then looks off to the side. “Except maybe Wilder—I’ve seen grumpy CEOs smile more than that guy.”
I scrunch my nose. “Probably didn’t help that Rose was either late for work, stealing property, vandalizing it, or starting fights in bars.”
“Cut my girl some slack, ranch life takes getting used to.”
I take another swig of my beer. “That and a cranky cowboy, I suppose.”