Page 50 of Rope Me In

I splash some cool water on my face and stare in the mirror. I look tired, sad, and lost—a far cry from the girl I was before I met Derek. I didn’t have anxiety attacks like this then. I had normal anxiety like any person living in this day and age does, but not like this.

I take a few minutes to clean up my face then reapply a little bit of mascara to my lashes and some pink-tinted moisturizer to my lips. It doesn’t make sense, but I kind of want to look good for him instead of showing up as some weird gremlin girl. Not that it should matter.

I search the small wooden dresser between the room’s two twin beds and find a pair of high-waisted black leggings, a loose-fitting white shirt with bell sleeves, and an oversized tan-and-white flannel button up. I tug them on, tying the flannel shirt around my waist and then putting on a pair of white off-brand sneakers I got last month. They will probably get dirty, but I don’t feel like wearing cowboy boots. They’re not that comfortable on my wider calves, and he told me to be comfortable.

Fine with the way I look and feeling a little more like myself, I walk out into the living area just as Kade strides in through the front door. He stops and smiles when he sees me, letting out a whistle.

“You look good in white. Though your shoes are gonna turn brown.” His words echo my earlier thoughts.

“It’s fine,” I say, ignoring the fact that he complimented me. I’m sure he was just being a flirt like he is with everyone.

“Alright, then. I got provisions.” He has a bulging canvas bag in one hand and a blanket over his other arm. “Follow me.”

He doesn’t give me time to think before he’s walking out the door. I follow less reluctantly than I thought I would. Despite how Kade and I first started out, something about him draws me in, makes me want to follow him instead of protest. That has me putting one foot in front of the other to go have “fun” with him.

The gravel and dirt crunch under our shoes as we walk, and Kade slows down a bit so we’re now side by side. He has to intentionally shorten his stride so we’re moving at the same pace—I’m not that short, but he’s got long legs. It’s kind of funny to watch him try to stay beside me.

“Are you feeling better?” he asks.

I study Kade’s side profile, his five-o’clock shadow coming in strong. The sun is setting, and the orange hues of the sky make his suntanned skin almost glow. He’s beautiful.

I clear my throat before he can comment on my silence. “I’m fine.”

He scrutinizes me but doesn’t say more, pointing to the big red barn ahead of us. I haven’t been inside yet, but Blake told me it’s where they keep all their hay stores and some equipment. She said one day they’d like to renovate it for events like weddings, which would make a killing in a setting like this. I can see the photos brides would get with the tree-dotted plains rolling expansively in the background. It would be stunning.

“We’re going in here.”

My interest piques. When he said we’d be having fun, I didn’t picture going into a barn. But I reserve judgment, thinking there must be something more to it.

Kade slides open the door, and my attention moves to the way the veins in his forearms bulge and how his glutes flex inside his Wranglers. My cheeks flush at the sexiness of it, and I lookaway to try to school my features, not wanting him to catch my reaction to his body this time. Thankfully, he doesn’t look at me as he walks inside, flicking on a light. I follow him silently.

Once we’re both in, he slides the door back in place, and I look around. The overhead lighting isn’t super bright, but it’s enough to illuminate the hay inside and the particles of dust and feed floating in the air. The barn is huge, and the vaulted ceilings are high, making it look even larger.

“Up the stairs you go,” Kade quips. He’s smiling wide, dimples showing, as he points to a staircase toward the back of the barn.

I head that direction with him hot on my heels. When we reach the steps that will presumably lead us to the barn loft, I put my hand on the railing at the same time Kade places his on the small of my back. I tense at the unexpected touch, and he pulls back.

“Sorry, I should’ve asked,” he offers sheepishly. “These stairs are old, and I didn’t want you to trip.”

Warmth fills my chest. I can’t remember the last time a man, let alone any person, was concerned about me unless they needed something from me. Like Derek being fake concerned about me being hurt or murdered so that I would pick up the phone.

“It’s okay.” I nod, and Kade takes that as permission to put his hand on my lower back again. I try to relax then take my time walking up the steps, and I’m a little winded when I reach the top.

I suck in a shallow breath as Kade drops his hand. I’m not going to lie; I miss the heat of it. The security of it.

Taking another short breath, I force myself not to think of that and observe my surroundings. Like downstairs, the light up here is dim, but the sunset from the open loft door casts an orange-and-yellow glow around us. I walk toward the opening and wrap my hands around the wooden railing, looking out over the plains and pastures. The beauty of it steals my breath.

“Wow” is all I manage to say. The sunset paints the sky, almost like it’s been photoshopped—reds, oranges, and yellows streak in almost broad brushstrokes across the landscape as the sun slowly sinks behind the horizon. Horses graze in the distance, and the sound of cicadas surrounds us. Yes, I’ve seen sunsets before, but not like this. Not on an open plain with no light pollution to hide its true beauty. Now I get why Kade was excited.

“Mother Nature is putting on a show tonight,” he hums, stepping up beside me. “When I saw the way the sky was turning, I had a feeling it would be a good one.”

I gaze at his profile again and take in his genuine love of what he sees. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man appreciate nature like this before. It’s endearing, a side of Kade I never expected to see.

Lately, though, he’s been showing a different side of himself—his question about why I quit smoking, his concern for me after I fainted then again when he found me crying. I also can’t ignore that he gave me a ride to work because of my tire and took me away from Night Hawk after my anxiety attack. And now this, an attempt to get me to have fun. Maybe he’s not as bad as I thought?

I turn my attention to the skies, and we quietly watch the colors of the sunset and the breeze blow across the plains before he steps back and motions for me to follow. Then he points to where he’d set down the canvas bag and blanket he brought.

“What is all that?” I ask.

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