Page 4 of Curvy Girl and the Ex-Military Cowboy

Elena adjusts her purse strap, her eyes meeting mine directly for the first time. "It's okay. We knew it wouldn't be simple."

"They don't know," I add, unnecessarily. "About the... arrangement."

She nods once. "I gathered that. Don't worry, I won't say anything until you're ready."

"Welcome to Covington Ranch," I say again, more sincerely this time.

"Thank you," she replies, and I catch a glimpse of vulnerability beneath her composed exterior. "I hope I made the right choice, coming here."

That makes two of us, I think, holding the door open for her. She steps inside, into my home, into my life, and I follow her, closing the door behind us and wondering what the hell happens next.

Chapter 2 - Elena

I step into the ranch house, the wooden door closing behind me with a soft thud that feels somehow final. Aaron follows me in, and I can feel the tension radiating from him like heat from a furnace.

I hope I made the right choice, coming here.

I said it, but now the thought repeats in my mind as I take in the grand entryway of Covington Ranch. It's nothing like the sleek, sterile apartments I'm used to back home. This place has history in every beam—worn wooden floors that have seen generations, family photos lining the walls, boots of various sizes scattered by the door. It feels lived-in, warm, intimidating.

Just like the five tall men now staring at me with varying degrees of curiosity and suspicion.

This isn't how it was supposed to happen. Aaron and I had a plan—I would arrive discreetly, we would have time alone to get reacquainted in person, to establish our story before meeting his family. Instead, I've been thrust into the center of this brotherhood with no preparation, clutching my purse like a shield.

"The kitchen's this way," the one Aaron identified as Ethan says, gesturing down the hallway. "Hope you're hungry. I made enough to feed an army, which around here, isn't far off."

"Thank you," I manage to say, my accent sounding more pronounced than usual in my nervousness.

Aaron reaches for my suitcase. "I'll take this up to your room while you get settled."

In our video calls, I'd noticed his handsome features—the strong jaw, the intense blue eyes that crinkle slightly at the corners when he smiles (which isn't often), the way he runs his hand through his dark hair when he's nervous. But in person, he's more... everything. Taller, broader, more intense. The kind of man who fills a doorway.

"Which country are you from, Elena?" asks the oldest brother—Jackson—as we walk toward what I presume is the kitchen. His tone is casual, but I sense the protective interrogation beneath it.

"Spain originally," I answer, deciding to stick with the truth as much as possible. "But I've lived in several European countries."

"Teaching English, right?" Aaron adds quickly, following my suitcase in hand.

I nod, grateful for the prompt. "Yes, English and sometimes literature."

The kitchen is a magnificent space with a large island, open shelving filled with mismatched plates and mugs, and windows overlooking what seems to be endless countryside. It smells divine—something with herbs and roasted meat that reminds me how little I've eaten today.

"Spain," Cole repeats, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. "Long way from Texas."

I meet his gaze directly. "Yes, it is."

"Yet here you are," he continues, "visiting an 'old friend' you met 'online.'"

I can hear the quotation marks in his voice. He doesn't believe our story, not for a second.

Before I can respond, the little girl—Lily—tugs at my dress again. "Do you know how to ride horses? Uncle Aaron can teach you if you don't."

I smile down at her, grateful for the interruption. "I've ridden before, but not for many years. I would like to learn again."

"Good. Then you can race with me and Daddy and Charlotte. Charlotte's my nanny but now she's Daddy's girlfriend too, and she's learning to ride, but she falls off a lot." She says this all in one breath, her eyes bright with childish enthusiasm.

Vincent, who I now realize must be Lily's father, looks both amused and slightly embarrassed. "Lily, let Elena breathe a bit before you tell her our entire family history."

"It's fine," I say, finding my voice growing stronger. Children have always been easy for me to talk to, perhaps because they judge less than adults. "I'd love to hear more about everyone."

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