Page 56 of Knotting the Cowboys

I do, filling my lungs with air that tastes too much like him. Pine and leather, and possibility I'm not ready to examine.

"For what it's worth," he continues, pulling away from the curb, "she's not wrong about the training. River's got the horses ready, and Austin wants to go over Luna's routines in detail. Mavi's probably already run seventeen background checks on everyone you met today."

SEVENTEEN?!

"Just seventeen?"

"He's showing restraint." There's humor in his voice now, the tension easing. "Usually it's at least twenty."

The town fades behind us as we head back toward the ranch.

Back toward four Alphas and a baby and a future I can't quite envision. But for the first time, the uncertainty doesn't feel like drowning.

It feels like a possibility.

That I’m actually worthy of starting anew…starting with this potentially opportunity I can no longer ignore.

"Cole?" I say as we turn onto the ranch road.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks. For today. For..." I gesture helplessly. "Everything."

His hand leaves the wheel just long enough to squeeze mine, there and gone before I can react.

But the warmth lingers all the way home.

Glimpse Of What “This” Can Be

~COLE~

The gravel crunches under my tires as I ease the truck to a stop near the bunkhouse, killing the engine with more care than necessary.

Every movement feels deliberate, controlled—a desperate attempt to maintain the professional distance that's been crumbling since the moment Willa climbed into my passenger seat this morning. The October evening paints everything in shades of amber and shadow, but all I can focus on is the woman beside me who's somehow managed to dismantle every wall I've built in a matter of days.

I kept today's trip short on purpose.

Usually, Mavi and I make the town run into an all-day affair—hardware store, feed store, vet supplies, grocery haul, plus whatever maintenance the truck needs. We hit every business that matters, checking in with the community that depends on us as much as we depend on them. But I couldn't subject Willa to that marathon, not when she's still finding her footing. Not whenevery new person she meets sizes her up like she's either prey or competition.

The jealousy that flashed in her eyes when Wendolyn mentioned helping with the horses—Christ, that did things to me.

My dick's been half-hard since that moment, my Alpha brain interpreting her possessiveness as interest, as claiming. She doesn't want another Omega on her territory,near her Alphas.The primitive part of me that I usually keep locked down tight practically howled at the recognition. Mine, my thoughts insisted.

She's staking her claim without even realizing it.

I should feel guilty about how much that pleases me.

Should remember she's traumatized, recovering, needs space and time, and definitely not another Alpha losing his mind over her. But logic doesn't stand a chance against the satisfaction that pools hot in my gut every time I remember that flash of jealousy, the way her scent spiked despite those expensive blocking panties she thinks hide everything.

"Looks like dinner's ready," Willa says, her voice soft in the truck's intimate silence. She's gazing at the main house where warm light spills from every window, painting golden rectangles on the darkening ground.

Through the kitchen window, I can see movement—River at the stove, Austin probably setting the table one-handed while Luna supervises from her high chair. Mavi will be checking locks, running his evening perimeter, making sure we're secure for another night.

It's domestic…a real home…and Willa's looking at it like she's seeing something precious and fragile, something she wants but doesn't quite believe she can have.

How can I convince her she deserves the world?

To be spoiled and loved as any Omega should.

---