Page 7 of Her Jolly Cowboy
I pick at the blanket. “When I was twelve, she forgot to pick me up from school on the last day before winter break. I waited four hours in the snow. Finally walked home. She was passed out on the couch with some guy I’d never met. I made my own dinner. Wrapped my own presents. Pretended I didn’t care.”
Luke is very still beside me.
“I decided then,” I continue, “that if I planned everything, if I controlled every detail, nothing could catch me off guard again. No one could let me down if I didn’t let them close enough to try.”
The fire pops. Outside, the wind howls like it’s trying to get in.
Luke shifts, and suddenly his arm is around my shoulders, pulling me gently against his side. I let him.
“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “That sucks.”
I laugh, watery and surprised. “Yeah. It did.”
He’s warm. Solid. I hate how much I like it, how much I’d like to lean on him.
“Your turn,” I say, nudging him with my shoulder. “Why are you so unflappable? Nothing fazes you. Not blizzards, not bossy wedding planners, not your grandmother threatening to adopt me on day one.”
He chuckles. “Practice. Dad died when I was fifteen. Mom bailed a year later. Rhett was eighteen and suddenly raising me and keeping the ranch afloat. I learned really fast that panic doesn’t pay the bills or fix fences. You just have to keep moving.”
I turn to look at him. Firelight dances over his face.
“So we’re both control freaks in our own way,” I say.
“Looks like.”
“Except you pretend you’re not.”
“And you pretend you don’t need anyone.”
I open my mouth to argue. Close it.
He smirks, but it’s gentle.
I lean my head against his shoulder without thinking. He goes still, then relaxes, tightening his arm just enough. The blanket is big enough for both of us. He tugs it over his legs too, and suddenly we’re sharing warmth, thighs pressed together, his heartbeat steady under my ear.
I should move. I should insist on the couch. I should do a lot of things. Instead, I whisper, “There’s only one bed.”
“Yep.”
“I’m not sleeping on the couch.”
“Didn’t think you would.”
“I’m not sleeping with you either.”
He laughs, the sound rumbling through his chest into mine. “We’ll see.”
I elbow him. He grunts, but doesn’t let go.
Outside, the storm rages harder, sealing us in this tiny cabin with one bed and approximately zero reasons to behave. I close my eyes and listen to his heartbeat.
He’s right, this could be a disaster, and for the first time in my adult life, I’m not sure I want to plan my way out of it.
Chapter four
Luke
I’m losing my goddamn mind, and it’s only been six hours.
