Page 74 of Falling Hard for the Billionaire Cowboy

Soon enough, I find myself surrounded by a small crowd of older ladies, each one peppering me with questions about our relationship.

It's overwhelming but in a strangely heartwarming way. I realize that this is what it means to live in a small town – everyone knows your business, but they also genuinely care.

As I answer their questions and listen to their advice (some more colorful than others), I'm struck by a sudden realization. This place, with its nosy but well-meaning inhabitants, its sense of community, its warmth – I wonder why I left for so long. More than that, it feels like it could be my forever home.

The next day, I have a case in court. I'm representing a nearby hotel owner against another case of some tourists who damaged her property. As I stand before the judge, I feel a surge of confidence.

"Your Honor," I begin, my voice clear, "the evidence clearly shows that the defendants willfully and recklessly caused significant damage to my client's establishment..."

I present our case methodically, countering each of the opposition's arguments with well-prepared rebuttals. When the judge finally rules in our favor, I feel a rush of satisfaction.

Outside the courthouse, my client hugs me tightly. "Thank you so much, Hayley," she says, her eyes brimming with tears. "I don't know what I would have done without you."

I feel a different kind of warmth.

As I head to my car, I remember that morning - Austin was supposed to take me to town and also pick me up after work. But I know he's been working hard at the ranch lately, and I didn't want to stress him out, so I decided to drive into town myself.

I'm putting my briefcase in the back seat when I hear a voice that makes me freeze. It's not the good kind of freeze, like when Austin surprises me with a kiss. No, this is the kind of freeze that comes with dread and revulsion. I know that voice all too well.

I turn slowly, hoping I'm wrong. But of course, I'm not. Standing there, with a smug smile on his face, is my crooked ex-boyfriend, Hank Ryder. The urge to slap his sleazy-looking face is stronger than I remember.

"Well, hello there, Hayley," he says. "Fancy meeting you here."

I straighten up, squaring my shoulders. "What are you doing here, Hank? How did you find me?"

He shrugs, taking a step closer. "Oh, you know, I was in the neighborhood. Thought I'd look up my favorite girl."

"I am not your girl," I snap. "Not anymore. What do you want?"

Hank's smile turns sickly sweet. "Can't a guy just want to catch up with an old flame?"

I feel my lawyer’s instincts kicking in. "Listen carefully, you jerk. I want you to leave. Now. If you don't, I'll file for harassment. As a lawyer, you know exactly what that means."

His smile falters for a moment, but he quickly recovers. "Come on, Hayley. Don't be like that. We had good times, didn't we?"

Should I just slap him?

I don't bother responding. Instead, I get into my car and start the engine. As I drive away, I hope my exhaust pipe blows a cloud of smoke right in his face. It's petty, but it feels good.

As I drive back to the ranch, I try not to think about him. But his appearance is disturbing. During our relationship, I had once mentioned that I came from Redstone, and he had mocked me for being a "small town girl." Looking back, I can't believe I ever dated such a jerk. Compared to the standards Austin is setting; Hank doesn't even come close.

But one question keeps nagging at me – what is he hoping to achieve by coming here?

When I reach the ranch, I drive straight to the main house instead of my cottage. As soon as I park, I see Austin running towards me, a wide grin on his face. The sight of him is like a balm to my soul, instantly wiping away the dark clouds hanging over my head.

"Hayley!" he calls out, wrapping me in a warm hug. "How did the case go?"

I melt into his embrace. "I won," I say, my voice muffled against his chest.

He pulls back, beaming at me. "Of course you did. I knew you would. You're brilliant, you know that?"

I hug him tighter, trying to forget about my encounter with Hank. For a moment, I almost succeed.

But Austin, perceptive as always, tips my chin up. A frown crosses his face as he studies my expression. "What's wrong?" he asks softly.

"Nothing," I fib. "Just tired."

The scum isn't worth talking about.

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