Page 21 of The Trail Boss

Later that evening, Gavin found himself on the front porch, a cold beer in his hand as he stared out over the darkened fields. The night was quiet, save for the faint rustle of wind through the trees and the distant chirp of crickets.

The screen door creaked behind him, and he turned to see Roxie stepping out, wrapped in a robe that he kept in her room for guests. Her arms were folded over her chest against the chill. But the robe was at least three sizes too big and even with her cuddling in it, the damn thing revealed the most tantalizing glimpse of the pale flesh of her breasts.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked.

She shook her head, leaning against the porch railing. “Too much on my mind, but that shower was amazing.”

He grinned. “I made sure that every single showerhead in this place puts out good, hot water with sufficient velocity.” He tipped the bottle to his lips but kept his gaze on her. Even in the dim light, he could see the strain on her face—the weariness that came from years of carrying too much alone.

“Want a beer or something else?”

She shook her head. “You ever feel like you’re cursed?” Roxie asked suddenly, her voice soft.

Gavin raised an eyebrow. “Cursed how?”

“Like no matter what you do, life just keeps throwing punches,” she said, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve. “And you’re stuck taking them because there’s no other choice.”

He set the bottle down on the railing and turned to face her fully. “Yeah,” he said after a moment. “I’ve felt that.”

Roxie glanced up at him, her brows knitting in surprise. “Really? Mr. In-Control-All-The-Time?”

Gavin chuckled softly, the sound low and rough. “You think I was born this way? Life’s dealt me my fair share of shit, Roxie. I’ve just learned how to fight back.”

She studied him, her eyes searching his face. “How?”

“By not giving up,” he said simply. “And by letting people help when I couldn’t do it alone.”

Her gaze dropped to the ground, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m not used to letting anyone help.”

“I figured,” he said, stepping closer. “But you’re not alone anymore, Roxie. You’ve got me. And you’ve got the team. We’re in this with you, whether you like it or not.”

Her lips twitched into a faint smile, and she looked up at him again. “You’re really damn stubborn, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told,” Gavin replied, his tone warm.

The charged space between them softened, replaced by a quiet understanding. Gavin couldn’t help but admire the resilience in her eyes, the way she stood there despite everything weighing her down.

“You’re stronger than you think,” he said quietly.

Roxie’s breath caught, and she looked away, the faintest blush coloring her cheeks. “You don’t even know me,” she murmured.

“I think I know you a lot better than you’d like to think,” Gavin said, the words carrying a weight he hadn’t intended.

The air between them crackled with something unspoken. Gavin’s chest tightened as he fought the urge to close the small distance between them, to brush a stray strand of hair from her face, to see if her lips were as soft as they looked.

But he held back, his voice dropping to a low rumble. “Get some rest, Roxie. Tomorrow, we figure out who’s messing with your life.”

She nodded, her expression unreadable as she stepped back toward the door.

As she disappeared inside, Gavin stayed on the porch, her presence lingering like a ghost. He’d made a career out of protecting people, but this was different.

This was personal.

8

GAVIN

The next evening, Gavin leaned against the kitchen counter at the ranch, arms crossed as he watched Roxie pace back and forth. She was still in a pair of leggings and an oversized sweatshirt—one of his—but the defiance in her posture made it clear she wasn’t in a mood to back down.

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