Page 128 of Knotting the Cowboys

Validation. Confidence. Pride.

It confirms I’m not defective like Blake and the others always emphasized. I work properly, as an Omega and a woman.

They simply weren’t the puzzle pieces I needed to feel whole.

"These hay prices are criminal," I mutter, running my finger down the columns of numbers. The morning sun slants through the dusty windows, turning Cole's profile golden where he leans against the counter beside me. He smells like leather and pine soap, that particular Alpha scent that makes something in myhindbrain want to lean closer. "We're paying thirty percent more than we should be, and that's before factoring in the gas to haul it from Billings."

Cole shifts, his shoulder brushing mine as he examines the papers. The contact sends an unexpected jolt through me—static from the dry air, maybe, or just my body's continued hypersensitivity after last night.

"You sure about those numbers?"

"Positive." I tap the invoice with more confidence than I've felt in years about anything. "See, they're charging us city prices for rural delivery. But there's a supplier right here in Sweetwater Falls—Johnson's Feed Mill. They're selling the same quality hay for twenty-two dollars a bale instead of thirty-one."

His eyebrows rise, gray eyes sharp with interest.

"Johnson's doesn't usually deal in bulk orders."

"They would if we guaranteed them consistent business." The numbers dance in my head, patterns I've always been good at seeing. "If we commit to buying our winter hay supply from them—say, eight hundred bales minimum—they'd probably drop the price another two dollars per bale. That's over seven thousand in savings, not counting the reduced fuel costs."

Cole straightens fully, studying me with an expression I can't quite read.

Pride, maybe? Surprise?

"You worked all that out just from looking at invoices?"

Heat creeps up my neck.

"I've always been good with numbers. Used to manage the books for—" I cut myself off before mentioning Iron Ridge. That life feels like a fever dream now, something that happened to someone else. "It's just basic cost analysis."

"Nothing basic about it." His voice carries a warmth that makes my stomach flip. "You've been here less than a week,and you're already finding ways to improve our bottom line. That's..."

He trails off as workers begin loading fifty-pound feed sacks into the truck bed, their rhythmic movements stirring up clouds of dust that dance in the morning light. I watch them work, trying to ignore the way Cole's still looking at me, like I'm some kind of puzzle he's trying to solve.

"That's what?" I prompt when the silence stretches too long.

"Impressive." The single word holds weight, and when I glance at him, his expression is soft in a way that makes my chest tight. "River handles most of our purchasing, but he tends to stick with what's familiar. Having fresh eyes on this stuff is good."

I duck my head, pleased and embarrassed in equal measure.

"Just trying to earn my keep."

"You don't have to earn anything." His hand comes up like he's going to touch my face, then drops. But his next words stop me cold. "You're looking a little flushed. Feeling alright?"

I blink, suddenly aware of the heat in my cheeks, the slight dizziness I've been ignoring all morning.

"I'm fine. Just didn't sleep well last night."

That's an understatement.

Between the adrenaline crash from the rodeo, the truck breaking down, and what happened with Austin against said truck, I maybe got three hours of restless sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I felt phantom hands on my skin, heard Austin's voice rough with want. My body wouldn't settle, too keyed up and aching for something I couldn't name.

Cole frowns, and this time he does touch me, the back of his hand gentle against my forehead.

"You're warm. When's the last time you had a proper nest?"

The question catches me off guard.

"A what?"

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