Page 42 of Open Arms

My heart did a little skip at the mention of her name, but I played it cool. “She’s good with Abigail. And she’s got the schedule down.”

“Uh-huh.” Gray’s lips twitched in a barely-there smile. “And cozying up at the Fall Festival didn’t hurt none either, huh?”

Cozy. That was one way to put it. Felt like my whole damn world tilted when she gave into that kiss. But I wasn’t about to give Gray the satisfaction of seeing me squirm.

“Didn’t hear you complaining about all the pie you snuck off my plate while we were ‘cozying up’,” I shot back, keeping my tone light.

“Hey, someone had to help you out. Seems like you had your hands full.” His chuckle was low, almost inaudible, but it was there alright.

“Very funny,” I said, but couldn’t help the grin that pulled at my lips. Talking with Gray always did that—no matter how deep in the mud I got, he’d find a way to drag me out with a laugh or a well-placed jab.

“Seriously though, Mason,” Gray clapped a hand on my shoulder, grounding me back to the moment. “It’s good to see you happy.”

“Well, don’t go gettin’ all sentimental on me, now.”

“Me? Never.”

I laughed, but fidgeted with my hat. “Still. It’s complicated.”

“Hmm,” was all he said.

I leaned against the fence, arms crossed, watching Walker guide the mare around the corral. The horse moved with grace under his command—something calming about the rhythm of it all. A perfect distraction from the turmoil twisting up my insides.

I exhaled slowly, watching a cloud of breath dissipate in the cool air. “Alright, asshole. You got me.” I admitted, the words feeling like boulders rolling off my tongue. “I can’t . . . hell, Gray, I’ve fallen for her. Hard.”

“Ah.” It was a knowing sound, one that usually preceded some sage advice or a swift kick in the rear, metaphorically speaking.

“Yep.” I pushed off the fence, pacing a few steps before turning back. “And I ain’t got the first clue what to do about it.”

“Man, if that ain’t the?—“

“Looks like love’s got Mase by the balls!” Walker’s voice cut through the air, a mix of amusement and brotherly concern woven into his words as he sauntered over, dust kicking up from his boots.

“Damn it, Walker, not helping,” I grumbled, but the corner of my mouth betrayed me, twitching with the start of a smile.

“Come on, you know you’re happier these days. Even Abigail’s noticed,” Walker added, stepping closer, his gaze flicking to the mare with pride.

“Can’t argue with that,” I conceded, watching the horse circle once more. My little girl’s laughter echoed in my mind—laughter that came more often now, thanks to Chloe.

“Besides,” Walker continued, slapping me on the back, “you deserve someone who makes you smile like you did at the festival. Lord knows that bear you won her is gettin’ more hugs than you these days.”

“Real funny,” I shot back, but couldn’t deny the warmth spreading through my chest at the thought of Chloe hugging that oversized toy.

“Then what’s holding you back?” Gray nudged my arm, sending a knowing glance my way.

“Guess I’m scared,” I confessed, the words tasting like old whiskey—sharp with truth.

Walker scoffed. “Scared? Mason Bridges, you’re the bravest guy I know. Took on that coyote that tried to kill our chickens at twelve years old with nothing but a piece of rebar.”

“Facing down coyotes is one thing,” I said. “But this . . .” I trailed off, unsure how to explain that love felt like the biggest risk of all.

“Hey,” Walker clapped a hand on my shoulder, “you’re not alone, remember? We’ve all been there.”

I looked from one face to another—these men, my friends who’d become brothers. They knew all about scraped knuckles and bruised hearts, even if the latter seemed surprising at first glance.

“Look, Mason,” Gray said, stepping closer, his tone taking on a rare edge of seriousness. “You’ve been through a lot. But you can’t let fear call the shots forever.”

“Easy to say,” I muttered, the weight of past heartache and feelings of worthlessness heavy on my shoulders. “It’s just complicated. And that’s besides the fact that she works for me now. And she’s my tenant. And probably a good eight years too young for me.”

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