Page 15 of Curvy Girl and the Single Dad Cowboy

"Better?" he asks, his voice a rumble I can feel through his chest.

"Much," I say softly, and in a moment of either bravery or foolishness, I let my head rest against his shoulder.

I feel him tense slightly, then relax. We stand like that, looking up at the stars, neither speaking for fear of breaking whatever spell has settled over us.

"My mother loved the stars," he finally says, his voice barely above a whisper. "She used to say they were windows to heaven, where the angels peeked through to check on us."

"That's lovely," I reply, touched that he's sharing something so personal.

"Lily never got to meet my mother, but she still asks if her grandma can see her from up there," he continues. "I tell her yes, even though I'm not sure what I believe myself."

"Sometimes the comfort of an answer matters more than its absolute truth," I say. "Especially for a child."

He's quiet for a moment. "You're good with her. With Lily. I wasn't sure at first, you being younger than I expected, but... you seem to understand her."

"Children aren't so complicated," I say, still leaning against him, watching the stars slowly moving across the sky. "They want security, honesty, and love. The rest is just details."

"Is that what you want too?" The question is so low I almost miss it.

I lift my head to look at him, finding his face closer than I expected, his eyes reflecting starlight.

"I think that's what everyone wants, deep down."

His gaze holds mine, and for a heart-stopping moment, I think he might kiss me. Part of me—a larger part than I care to admit—hopes he will.

Chapter 5 - Vincent

What the hell am I doing?

The thought slams into me as I stand here under the vast sky, Charlotte Wilson's face tilted up toward mine, her eyes reflecting starlight. She's younger, my daughter's nanny, for god's sake. She arrived literally hours ago. And yet I've never wanted to kiss someone as badly as I want to kiss her right now.

Her features are softened in the darkness, but I can still make out those scattered freckles across her nose, the curve of her lips, the way her eyes blink up at me like they're capturing starlight with each flutter.

She looks almost ethereal, wrapped in my flannel shirt that's far too big for her frame, her hair loose around her shoulders.

I’m aware of my arm still around her, the warmth of her body against mine, the faint scent of the shampoo she must have used earlier. This is dangerous territory.

I'm her employer. She's responsible for my daughter. There are a dozen reasons why I should step back right now and pretend this moment never happened.

Instead, I find myself saying, "You're something else, Charlotte Wilson."

A smile touches her lips. "Is that good or bad?"

"I'm still figuring that out," I admit.

She laughs softly, the sound mixing with the night breeze. "Fair enough."

I reluctantly drop my arm from around her shoulders and take a half-step back, trying to reestablish some semblance of professional distance.

"We should probably head back," I say, my voice rougher than intended. "Early start tomorrow."

She nods, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Right. Lily promised me a tour of the horses at first light, I believe."

"She takes that kind of promise very seriously," I warn. "She'll be knocking on your door at dawn."

"I'll be ready," Charlotte assures me. "I'm an early riser anyway."

We begin the walk back toward the house. The ranch stretches out before us, the buildings dark silhouettes against the star-scattered sky. This land has been my anchor through everything—my parents' deaths, my marriage falling apart, Sarah walking out. It's always been the one constant in my life.

---