Page 10 of Curvy Girl and the Ex-Military Cowboy

The concern in his voice touches me. "I'm fine," I assure him. "Your family is... welcoming, in their own way."

He huffs a laugh. "That's one word for the Covington inquisition."

We move through the barn, Vincent proudly showing me their prize horses while Charlotte keeps Lily from getting too close to the more temperamental animals. I notice how Vincent'shand constantly finds Charlotte's—on her shoulder, at her waist, entwining their fingers. The ease between them speaks of a comfort that comes with genuine connection.

Is that what Aaron wants from our arrangement? That kind of natural togetherness? Is it what I want?

This is barely the beginning of our three-month agreement, yet I already feel the weight of what we're attempting. We're trying to manufacture in weeks what most couples develop over years—trust, understanding, compatibility. The odds seem impossible when stated plainly.

Yet watching Aaron now, seeing how he straightens when a loud bang from outside causes him to flinch slightly, how he covers it by immediately checking the stall latch as if that was his intention all along, I feel a renewed determination. This man deserves someone who understands his battles, who won't flinch at his scars, visible or otherwise.

I don't know if I'm that person, not yet. But I want to try.

As we exit the barn into the late afternoon sunlight, Aaron falls into step beside me.

"Dinner might be another family affair," he warns quietly. "But I can make excuses if you need some time alone."

I consider this for a moment. The prospect of another meal fielding questions from five curious brothers is slightly overwhelming, especially after such an emotionally draining day.

"Actually," I say, "would it be possible for us to have dinner in town? I've never been to Cedar Falls, and I'd love to see it. Something a bit calmer than lunch might be nice."

Relief flashes across his face. "That's a great idea. There's a decent steakhouse on Main Street, nothing fancy but the food is good. Let me just give my brothers a heads up so they're not waiting on us."

"I'll be ready whenever you are," I tell him as we approach the main house.

Aaron nods and heads inside, leaving me to take in the sprawling ranch property bathed in late afternoon light. The landscape is vastly different from anywhere I've lived—open and expansive, with rolling hills that stretch to the horizon. It's beautiful in its wildness, much like the man I've agreed to potentially marry.

"It's something, isn't it?" a voice says behind me.

I turn to find Charlotte approaching, her hair catching the sunlight. She's alone now, Vincent and Lily presumably having gone inside.

"It's breathtaking," I admit. "So much space."

Charlotte smiles, coming to stand beside me.

"I felt the same way when I first arrived. I'm from Chicago originally—city girl through and through. The openness was almost intimidating." She hesitates, then continues, "I hope you don't mind, but I overheard you and Aaron talking about dinner in town. I just wanted to apologize if the Covington family comes on a bit strong. They can be overwhelming at first, but they're all fantastic people once you get to know them."

I'm not sure how to respond, uncertain how much she knows or suspects about my situation.

"They seem very close," I say carefully.

Charlotte nods. "They are. Fiercely loyal to each other. It took time for them to trust me when I first came to be Lily's nanny. Vincent was so protective, and his brothers even more so. But once they let you in..." She smiles warmly. "Well, there's nothing like having the Covington Cowboys in your corner."

There's something knowing in her expression that makes me wonder if she's guessed more than she's letting on.

"I'm not sure they're convinced I'm just Aaron's friend," I admit, testing the waters.

Charlotte laughs softly. "The Covingtons aren't exactly subtle when they're suspicious. But don't worry—they'll come around. They just want Aaron to be happy." She pauses. "He's been through a lot."

"I know," I say quietly, perhaps revealing more than I should.

Charlotte gives me a thoughtful look. "You care about him."

It's not a question, and I find myself unable to deflect. "I do, yes."

"Good," she says simply. "He deserves that."

Before I can respond, she continues, "Whatever brought you here—and I'm not asking for details—just know that it gets easier. I was an outsider too, remember? Now I can't imagine being anywhere else."

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