Page 73 of Cowboy's Healing Heart

James nods, his expression never changing. "Very good, sir."

Shane takes my hand and guides me into the house. The Kennedy estate is massive. The foyer alone is bigger than my entire cabin at the ranch. Everything gleams with wealth and privilege, from the crystal chandelier overhead to the plush carpets under our feet.

"You okay?" Shane asks, his hand on the small of my back.

I nod, not trusting my voice. How do I tell him that I feel like an intruder?

We make our way to the terrace, where a table has been set for two. The view is breathtaking—manicured gardens stretching as far as the eye can see, the city skyline a distant silhouette.

"This is... wow," I manage as we sit down.

Shane smiles, reaching across the table to take my hand. "I wanted to do something special for you. I know the move hasn't been easy."

I squeeze his hand, touched by the gesture. "Thank you. This is beautiful."

As we eat, Shane regales me with stories from his childhood—sneaking out to the gardens late at night, getting caught trying to ride his father's prized horses. For a moment, I can almost see the mischievous boy he must have been, so different from the serious, driven man I know now.

"What about you?" he asks, his eyes twinkling with curiosity. "Any childhood adventures to share?"

I laugh, shaking my head. "Nothing like this. My adventures were more... down to earth. Like the time I tried to fix our neighbor's lawnmower and ended up flooding their yard."

Shane chuckles, but there's a hint of something else in his eyes. "Sounds like you were quite the handful."

"Oh, I was," I agree, grinning. "My mom used to say I was born with a wrench in my hand."

As soon as the words leave my mouth, I regret them. The mention of my background, which is so different from Shane's, brings back the tension gnawing at our relationship.

Shane must sense the shift in my mood because he leans forward, his expression serious. "Krystal, I hope you know how much I admire you. Your skills, your determination. You've built an incredible life for yourself and Ashanti."

I swallow hard, fighting back the sudden urge to cry. "Thank you," I whisper.

He stands up, coming around the table to kneel beside my chair. "I love you," he says, his voice low and intense. "All of you. Your past, your present, your future. I don't want you to ever feel like you have to change."

I want to believe him, to let go of my fears and trust him completely, but the past has left its mark on me, making it hard to let go of my defenses.

"I love you too," I say because it's true. Despite everything, despite the growing distance between us, I love him with an intensity that scares me.

Shane leans in, his lips meeting mine in a tender and passionate kiss. For a moment, I let myself forget about everything else—the impending gala, the judgmental stares, the vast differences in our backgrounds. For now, it's just us.

The sound of a car pulling up to the house breaks the spell and Shane's expression changes.

"That'll be my parents," he says, standing up. "We should probably head inside."

I nod, steeling myself for what's to come. As we walk back into the house, hand in hand, I prepare myself for the worst while hoping for the best.

The Kennedys are polite on the surface. Their frosty demeanor, laced with veiled barbs and subtle jabs, all rub me the wrong way.

Shane's parents sweep into the room like royalty entering their court. Eleanor is impeccably dressed in a tailored suit, her blonde hair styled in a perfect updo. Richard, imposing in his dark suit, his eyes sharp as they take in the scene.

"Shane, darling," Eleanor says, air-kissing her son's cheeks. Her gaze slides to me, a polite smile that looks etched on. "And Krystal. How... lovely to see you."

I force a smile, trying to ignore the way she says my name, as if it's a foreign word she's not quite sure how to pronounce. "It's good to see you too, Mrs. Kennedy."

"Please, call me Eleanor," she says, waving a hand dismissively. "We're practically family now, aren't we?"

The words should be welcoming, but there's an undercurrent of... disdain.

Richard steps forward, shaking Shane's hand firmly. "Son. I trust you've been reviewing the documents I sent over? I want us to secure some soft commitments."

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