Page 58 of Every Promise Broken

And before I knew it, I was collapsing into his arms, melting into his touch, as our bodies somehow began to sway. At some point, without my realization, Conrad had turned the stereo on, the melody of a song drifting through the speakers as we continued to move together.

I didn’t understand it, but I refused to overthink it, because it was the first thing that had my mind quieting. The first thing that had my heart slowing down.

That’s where we are now, minutes later, still embraced as I allow Conrad to guide me around this barn. I can’t help but wonder if this will change everything. Or if the morning sun will touch the horizon, tonight being long forgotten. By him, at least. I could never forget about this. This moment is cataloged in my mind forever. The way I can hear—and feel—his steady heartbeat through his chest. The way his rough hand feels wrapped around mine. The way his legs carry us around the empty and dark barn, only the moon and stars as our witness. The way my chest aches with a need to get closer, and the way that confuses my mind, because typically I try to avoid physical contact as much as possible.

But with him, it’s different. Everything about Conrad is different. He makes my pulse race and my palms sweat, but not in an anxious way. In a he-soothes-my-soul type of way. I feel comfortable talking around him, never do I feel like he’s judging me, and when I want to be quiet—simply exist near him with no words between us—he lets me do just that. The silence is never awkward, and I never feel this absurd need to fill it withanything. I can just be with him, and it’s never been like that before with anybody else.

But he’s my boss’s son.

And significantly older than me.

I’m eighteen and he’s thirty-three. I’ve known of him and his family my entire life. You don’t grow up in the small, charming town of Copper Lake, Wyoming, and not know the Strauss family. But it wasn’t until I started working at Grazing Acres, his family’s ranch, when I was fifteen that I really got to know him. Quiet and broody, he’s a man of few words. He’s handsome and rugged; everything I’m not. Where I’m small in stature, he’s larger than life.

Conrad Strauss is all man. Hardworking, weathered hands, skin golden tan from days spent under the sun, and muscles built not from a gym but from hours upon hours of manual labor. I’ve been crushing on a man who would never even look twice at me in that light since I was fifteen years old. Six months ago, I turned eighteen, and a foolish part of my mind thought maybe he’d finally see me as more than his parents’ ranch hand. Maybe he’d see me for me—not that I really have all that much to offer in the romantic department—but a man like him would never take a man like me seriously.

Or so I thought.

Tonight has changed all of that. It may be naive of me, and I very well may be reading more into it than I should, but for the first time since I started working here, I think Conrad may actually see me. It’s the thought I desperately hold on to asYou Make It Look So Easyby Eric Church replays for the third time tonight.

His presence calms me. It quiets my mind.

For once, I’m not obsessing over college in the fall, or worried about my mother’s drinking and what it’s doing to my father. For the first time in who knows how long, I’m notstressed about making ends meet, or the weight of following in my dad’s footsteps. In my granddad’s footsteps.

For once, I can breathe.

I feel safe in his arms. Protected. Like the weight of the world isn’t resting on my shoulders, even if it’s only for tonight. It’s a dangerous feeling, though, because Conrad isn’t somebody I could ever call my own. He’s not somebody I can have.

To him, I’m probably just a child.

Even if he’s holding on to me like I’m everything he’s ever dreamed about.

Even if he is everything I’ve ever dreamed about.

Just for tonight, I allow myself to revel in the feeling of being wrapped up in his arms. Just for tonight, I allow myself to dream of what it would be like to have him like this every night. What it would be like to be loved by Conrad Strauss.

What it would be like to tell him how utterly in love with him I am.

I give in to the fantasy because that’s all it is.

22

Conrad Strauss

I’m met with a pair of baby goats staring at me as I head into the clinic. Tipping my hat at Gary, the owner of the goats, I stand at the empty counter.

“Howdy, Conrad,” he drawls, a smoker’s rasp to his voice. “How you been?”

“Oh, not too bad. And yourself?”

“Same old, same.” He chuckles. “Wife brought home these two fellas last week. Just getting ’em checked out.”

“Sorry for the wait,” Maddy says to Gary, taking her seat behind the desk. “Printer ran out of ink. Here you are. Have a great afternoon!”

Picking up both goats, Gary tips his chin at me before leaving the clinic.

“Hi, Mr. Strauss,” Maddy greets cheerfully, a wide smile on her face. “Twice in one week. Aren’t we lucky?”

Huffing out a breath, I lift the bag in my hand. “Yeah, I’m here to bring Whit lunch. Is he free?”

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