Page 6 of Cowboy Daddy
“Thank you,” I say softly between bites. “For breakfast. For the bed. For not kicking me out into the snow this morning. I know I talk too much and I probably snore adorably, but you’re being ridiculously kind to a girl who showed up causing chaos.”
He leans forward, elbows on his knees, close enough that I can see the flecks of silver in his eyes. “Told you. You’re at Haven 7 now. We take care of our own.” His voice drops lower. “And you’re staying right here until that ankle is better. No arguments.”
My heart does a full somersault. Staying here. In his cabin. With him. The secret relief about Derek mixes with a giddy rush of something brighter. I’m safe. At least for now. What if Derek finds me again?
“Yes, sir,” I tease, but my voice comes out breathy. “Though I feel like I should contribute something. I’m an excellent pie baker. I could make you the best huckleberry pie you’ve ever had once I’m mobile. Or name all the horses after baked goods. Biscuit was just the beginning. We could have Muffin, Cupcake, and Strudel.”
A muscle ticks in his jaw, but his eyes are smiling even if his mouth isn’t quite there yet. “You’re trouble, Sunshine.”
“The best kind,” I whisper, holding his gaze. The tension stretches between us, sweet and sizzling. I want to lean forward and kiss that almost-smile right off his face. I want to climb intohis lap and thank him properly for saving me, for breakfast, for making me feel like I finally found the place I belong.
Instead I finish my plate and set it aside, then pat the couch beside me. “Come sit closer? I promise not to bite. Unless you ask nicely.”
He hesitates only a second before moving to the edge of the couch.
“Harlan,” I breathe. “You keep looking at me like that and I’m going to start believing this is more than just you being a good guy.” What am I saying?
His fingers tighten on my knee. “Maybe it is.”
The words hang there, heavy and perfect. My pulse thunders. I reach up and brush that scar again, then let my fingers trail down his stubbled jaw. He leans into the touch, eyes darkening with want.
Outside the wind has died down, leaving a world blanketed in fresh snow. Inside this cabin it feels like the start of something huge and scary and wonderful.
I lean my head on his shoulder, breathing him in. “Best breakfast I’ve ever had. Best morning I’ve had in years. Thank you.”
He turns his head and presses a rough kiss to the top of my head. Gruff. Protective. Full of promise. “Stay put, Sunny. I’ve got you.”
And for the first time in forever, I believe him.
FOUR
HARLAN
The smell of coffee and something sweet fills my cabin like it belongs here. I stand at the stove flipping the last of the grilled cheese, my flannel sleeves rolled up past my elbows, muscles tight from the morning chores I already finished before the sun even thought about rising. Sunny sits at the small wooden table I built myself two winters back, her legs swinging a little like she can’t quite sit still. Her hair’s a wild mess of golden waves from sleep, and she wears one of the shirts Daisy dropped off over her leggings. She looks completely fuckable and I can’t help but get a little hard at the sight of her.
I’ve never met a woman like her. Not once in all my years. Not in the service, not in the rodeo circuits I ran after I got out, not in any of the quiet towns I drifted through before I landed at Haven 7. Women either want the strong silent type for a night or they run from the grump who would rather talk to his horses. Sunny doesn’t do either. She smiles at me like I hung the damn moon even when I growl my answers. She fills the space with this bright, bubbly energy that should annoy the hell outta me. Instead it hooks something deep in my chest and tugs.
"Smells incredible," she says, voice all sunshine and honey as she leans forward on her elbows. "I can’t remember the last time someone made me grilled cheese and tomato soup. Usually it’s just me and a granola bar I find in the bottom of my purse."
I grunt and slide two more grilled cheese sandwiches onto her plate. "Eat. You’re too damn skinny for a mountain winter."
She laughs, that light sparkling sound that hits me low in the gut every single time. "Skinny? Harlan, I have curves. They’re just hiding under this t-shirt. Which, by the way, smells like pine and leather and something warm. I like it."
My hand tightens on the spatula. Heat crawls up my neck. I want to tell her to stop talking like that. I want to pull her into my lap and find out exactly how those curves feel pressed against me. Instead I pour myself more coffee and sit across from her, knees brushing hers under the table. The contact sends a spark straight through me. She doesn’t pull away. Neither do I.
We eat in a silence that isn’t uncomfortable. She moans around her first bite, eyes fluttering shut, and I have to look down at my plate before I do something stupid like reach across the table and kiss that sound right off her lips. Lunch stretches longer than it should. I watch her lick soup from her thumb and my mind goes places it has no business going. Not with her still healing from whatever put those shadows in her eyes. Not when I know she’s running from something she hasn’t told me yet.
I clear the plates when we finish, washing them in the sink while she chatters about the horses she heard whinnying earlier. Her voice wraps around me like a rope, gentle but impossible to ignore. I dry my hands on a towel and turn to face her. She’s still at the table, chin in her hand, watching me with those big blue eyes that see too much.
"So why did you really leave Colorado?" I ask, voice low and rough. I keep it steady, but my shoulders tense. I’ve been waiting for this since I carried her in here yesterday.
All the sunshine drains from her face. Just like that. The smile fades. Her shoulders curl in. Those bright eyes cloud over with something dark and heavy that makes my blood run hot. Protective instinct slams into me so hard I have to grip the back of the chair to keep from pulling her straight into my arms. Whoever put that look on her face, I’ll tear them apart. Slow. I’ll go feral on anyone who tries to hurt her. The thought settles deep in my bones like a promise I already know I’ll keep.
Sunny swallows hard. Her fingers twist together on the table. "I... I didn’t want to say anything yesterday. You already did so much, pulling me off that horse, bringing me here. I thought maybe if I just stayed quiet, the storm would pass and I could keep going."
"You’re not going anywhere." The words come out gruffer than I mean them to. I sit down across from her again, close enough that our knees touch once more. "Talk to me, Sunny."
She takes a shaky breath. The quirky sparkle is gone, replaced by something raw that twists my chest. "His name’s Derek. My ex. We were together for three years back in Colorado Springs. At first he was charming. Flowers, dates, all that romcom stuff that makes a girl think she found the one. Then the mask slipped. He got mean. Controlling. Little things at first. Where I went, who I talked to, what I wore. Then bigger things. Yelling. Shoving. Once he threw a plate so hard it shattered against the wall next to my head."
