Page 14 of Auctioned to the Cowboy

“Cheers to that,” Henry adds, his smile reaching his eyes.

“Cheers,” we all repeat, and I release the breath I didn’t know I was holding.

Lunch passes in a haze of conversation and laughter, filling the room with warmth. Henry is quieter than the rest, but I catch his gaze on me more than once. Each time, it sends a thrill through me, an unfamiliar but not unwelcome sensation.

As the meal winds down and the dishes are cleared, I step out onto the porch for a moment of quiet. The air is crisp and cold, biting at my cheeks as I take in the view of the snow-dusted landscape stretching out before me. The ranch is a peaceful placewhere life is simpler and the frenzy of the world fades into the background.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Henry’s voice startles me.

I turn to find him standing a few feet away, his hands stuffed into his coat pockets.

“It is,” I reply, my breath forming small clouds in the icy air. “Peaceful.”

He nods, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “This place has been in my family for generations. It’s not just a ranch—it’s a legacy. Something worth fighting for.”

His words are heavy with meaning, and a pang of guilt hits me for underestimating how much this place means to him. This marriage might have started as a practical arrangement, but for Henry, it’s tied to something far deeper.

“I can see that,” I say softly. “It’s a good place. A place that feels like home.”

He looks at me then, his gray eyes searching mine. “Does it? Feel like home?”

I pause, the question hanging between us. “It’s starting to,” I admit, and the honesty in my voice surprises even me.

We stand in silence for a moment, the cold air swirling around us.

Henry clears his throat, breaking the spell. “You should head inside,” he says gruffly. “It’s freezing out here.”

I nod, stepping toward the door. But before I go inside, I turn back to him. “Henry?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you. For everything.”

He doesn’t reply, but the look in his eyes says more than words ever could.

As I step back into the warmth of the house, I realize something has shifted between us. It’s subtle, like the soft glow of dawn chasing away the night. And though I don’t know what the future holds, I dare to hope that maybe this marriage of convenience could turn into something more.

Chapter 6

Henry

I stand in the kitchen, heat from the oven brushing against my face as I check on the leftovers from the lunch Shay put together earlier. She’s outdone herself, even if the whole wedding shindig was for show. The ranch house is quieter now, only the hum of the refrigerator and the ticking of the old clock above the sink for company. The silence settles in my chest like a familiar weight, but tonight, it’s tinged with something new. Something softer.

“Hey, need any help?” Shay’s voice cuts through the silence like a melody.

I glance over my shoulder to find her leaning against the doorway, dressed down in a sweatshirt that swallows her up and faded sweatpants. Her hair’s a tousled mess, and her green eyes sparkle with that infectious energy she carries like a damn halo. She looks like she belongs here, like this house has always been hers, and the sight of her knocks the breath right out of me.

“Nah, you’ve done enough today,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “Go relax or something.”

She pushes off from the doorframe and saunters into the room, her nose twitching as the scent of spices hits her. “You sure? Because I can be quite the sous-chef.”

“Positive.” I slide the tray out of the oven, the macaroni and cheese bubbling like it’s applauding our little non-honeymoon setup. “Go sit down. Dinner’s almost ready.”

“All right, bossy boots.” She throws a mock salute and heads back to the living room.

I watch her go, my gaze lingering a beat too long. She moves like she belongs, like this place has already claimed her.

As I plate up the food, I can’t shake the knowledge that today was… different. Special. Even if it’s not a real marriage, a big, idiotic part of me wants it to be. I shake my head, trying to dismiss the thought. Can’t afford to go there.

---