Page 41 of Since Day One

“Ruger was always just more outspoken and outgoing than I was; he still is. Though I didn’t do half bad with the ladies myself, they just seemed to notice him first,” he continued, his eyes glazing over as he let himself become lost in memories.

“Do you still want to get married someday?” I asked, taking another sip of the coffee he’d made. The warm liquid slid down my throat as he shrugged and looked away, chewing his bottom lip.

“Honestly, after everything with my ex-fiancée happened, the thought of marriage left a really sour taste for a while. I couldn’t even go as a guest when I was invited.” He sat forward in his chair and ruffled a hand through his hair. “I have money, I have my brother and parents, this ranch, so for a long time I didn’t really care. Girls just didn’t seem to matter as much, and I’m not one who enjoys hookups. I actually care about getting to know a woman, dating her, and stuff. You know, like an old-fashioned sap.”

“And this world is so focused on hookup culture,” I interjected as he paused and nodded.

“So after my ex-fiancée and that girlfriend left, and I ended those few flings that were nothing more than disastrous first dates, I stopped looking altogether. Ruger met Jesse three years ago at one of his student’s rodeos. She was the furthest thing from a cowgirl and didn’t know a lick about this world, but she was different. He became different, and I guess I saw that there might still be people out there that care about things the way I do.” He sighed, shifting his gaze from the plate he was pushing his fork around to my eyes.

“I guess my answer is that I would like to, but I doubt it’s in the cards for me.” He gave me a tight smile. “I’m older now and pretty much set in my ways.”

“But if the right girl came along?” I asked, and he nodded.

“She’d have to be something pretty special.” His smile loosened.

“Because you are a stubborn old fool who’s unwilling to change?” I pressed.

He chuckled. “Sounds about right.” I felt something ache within me. I wasn’t even sure what it was, but this hope that had started was now being suffocated.

“How will you know if you’ve found someone pretty special?” I continued, trying to ignore the welling emptiness beginning to bubble up within me. Where it was coming from was confusing; I’d ignored or shot down every flirtatious advance he’d attempted up to this point, so I had no reason to feel this upset about his answer.

I had shot him down, right?

Gunnar tilted his head and locked his gaze firmly on mine. Stormy hazel eyes burned with something unreadable that caused the ache to hurt more. Until he spoke. “‘Cause I’ve already met someone pretty special.”

It wasn’t an explicit confession, and maybe I was reading something more into his words, but that hope burst through the darkening desolation once more. Though I didn’t know why I should care so much—he was, according to my self-imposed rules, off limits, and it wasn’t like I had actual feelings for this guy. We were put into a situation that was forcing us to spend time together, pure and simple. That was it, and I was riding off of that.

Gunnar raised a single eyebrow and then chuckled to himself, making me wonder if I had spoken out loud, as I remained frozen and unable to move. My thoughts raced. He couldn’t actually have been talking about me—after all, we’d only just met—but pretending that he was, made me feel pretty special. I wouldn’t press further, either, because that could burst this imaginary fantasy bubble that was suddenly being built within my head.

“So, watching your brother who was a player fall in love helped you believe in love again?” I asked, not acknowledging what he said, and he chuckled again to himself before looking down at his plate.

“Yeah. If he could change like that, then there’s hope for this old soul after all,” he answered and took a swig of his coffee as the candles between us flickered, burning low on their wick. I pulled my legs up onto the chair, crisscrossing them as I sat back, tugging at the edges of the massive button-up that was still hanging off of one shoulder per the deal I made yesterday.

My eyes sidled toward the window, blanketed in blistering white, the snow steadily falling. I almost prayed it wouldn’t end anytime soon. Being stuck here with Gunnar was surprisingly something I was relishing in but, at the same time, finding a little frustrating.

“Are they going to have kids?” I asked, breaking the silence, and he nodded with a smile.

“I’ll always be jealous of people with siblings. They’ll get to be aunts and uncles, and I’ll never know what that’s like being an only child.” I sighed, leaning backward against the chair. “I doubt I’ll ever get the experience of watching any little kid grow up. It’s not like I’ve got a lot of prospects left in the department to become a mom.”

“Eh, you’re not missing out on much. I watched my uncle raise those two kids from my ex, and it looked exhausting,” he replied. “Though, I do feel pity that you’ll never have a niece or nephew. Being an uncle is way less stressful because the kid goes back to mom and dad at the end of the day.”

I furrowed my brows. “Are you saying you don’t want kids?”

He shook his head no. “Like I said, I’m older and pretty stuck in my ways. I like my independence, so I’ll settle for being an uncle.” He raised his brows and pushed himself back from the table. I stood up, as well, gathering the dishes that were in front of me, and followed him to the sink that held dirty dishes already.

“I hate doing dishes,” I grumbled as he chuckled, slipping his plate into the water, and then wrapped his arms around my waist, swallowing me into him.

“Then leave them,” he whispered, washing warm breath into my ear and sending a shiver down my spine.

I clicked my tongue. “They’ll stink if they’re not done,” I softly answered, leaning my head back against his chest, which allowed him to bury his face into my neck. He really had listened when I said I liked when he touched me. That physical contact was something I was unintentionally latching onto, and he was giving me every dose of it possible. Which had me wanting more and more.

“Okay, then we’ll do them together really fast, and then you can stick your hand back in my pants,” he muttered against my skin, his whiskers tickling my neck, and I giggled.

I also rolled my eyes, but it was a good suggestion. So I nodded, and we got to work. It was much more fun having his company and help as we cleared the heap of dirty dishes, pots, and pans. His stupid grin and annoying comments that made me constantly roll my eyes seemed like something I’d already experienced for my entire life.

Gunnar Johnson was an easy cowboy to be with.

Once everything was stashed neatly away, he bounded over to the couch, leapt over the back of it, and crashed noisily against the cushions, waiting as I took the casual way around. Lying flat on his back, he propped his head up on the armrest and patted his crotch wantonly, grinning like a man who’d won the lottery. “He’s waiting for you, Princess.”

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