Page 50 of Chasing Forever
Echo’s hooves swish through the tall grass. The creek’s low murmur lets her know we’re close.
I slow our pace and dismount, tying Echo to a tree with enough slack for her to graze. Then I step to the creek’s edge and watch the sun sink lower, smearing the sky with shades of amber and honey.
There are so many questions rattling around in my head, and I can’t seem to sort through them. Brooks should be in the “do not touch” box—but somehow, he slipped into the “husband” one. How did that happen?
I mean, I know how it happened. I’m not immune to his charm despite what I try to present. I’ve seen all the good qualities he has. But now there are real, rising feelings that whisper maybe he deserves a spot in the “maybe” box. At the very least, the “dating” one.
I don’t know how long I’ve been standing at the creek’s edge. The sun is half gone now, casting a warm buttercream haze over everything.
This wasn’t the kind of clarity I expected to find tonight. But one thing is clear—something between Brooks and me has shifted. That flirtation, the teasing we tossed at one another for years, it’s turned into something with… weight. And I’m not the kind of person who can ignore that.
Echo whines softly. I glance toward the sound and catch a shadow lengthening behind me.
Brooks.
He’s riding Gunner. My whole body tenses.
Fucking Nash.
I pretend to admire the stream, but every crunch of his boots, every rush of his horse’s breath, sends those stupid butterflies into a frenzy. God, this is worse than I thought.
“Hey.” His voice is deep and smooth like the creek in front of me and laced with that drawl that weakens my knees.
“Did Nash call you?” I cross my arms because the spring air has turned cool as the sun dips further.
A heavy coat settles across my shoulders. The smell of his soap lingers around me, and I force myself not to inhale any deeper.
“He might’ve passed me and mumbled something, but I was taking Gunner out anyway.” He stands beside me, too close for me to keep pretending nothing’s happening here.
“Why don’t you keep Gunner with you?”
He tilts his head toward the horses. I follow his gaze. Sure enough, Echo and Gunner are brushing noses.
“He’d be lonely.”
“I’m sure he’d manage.”
“I think Echo might miss him.”
“That’s presumptuous.” I lift my chin.
He raises an eyebrow and looks at the horses, clearly enjoying each other. “I don’t think so.”
“I don’t need your coat.” I reach up to shrug it off, but his hand covers mine, gently keeping it in place.
“Humor me?”
“Why?”
He sighs and shoves his hands into his jean pockets. He’s still in his sheriff shirt though. Clearly, not dressed to ride tonight.
“Because you’re cold, and I’m giving you my jacket to be nice. Just say thank you and leave it on.”
There’s a frustrated edge to his voice that’s not normally present.
“Thank you,” I say in a soft voice.
His brows lift, surprised. “Really?”
