Page 53 of Saddles and Snowstorms
His lips quirked up at one corner. “Just... taking in the view.”
Heat crawled up my neck that had nothing to do with the coffee or sunshine. Brooks sat beside me, the mattress dipping under his weight as he carefully propped up his sprained ankle. It was looking better and better. Our shoulders brushed, and I fought the urge to lean into him completely.
“How long until the Beau and Lucas get here?” he asked, a tinge of sadness in his voice. “If they take much longer, there won’t be any snow left to dig out.”
I sipped my coffee, relishing the strong, bitter taste before answering. “Roads should be a lot clearer now. I can’t imagine they’ll be long.”
Brooks nodded, his eyes fixed on the window where sunlight danced across melting icicles. “Guess that means you’ll be heading home soon.”
The words hung between us, heavy with unspoken questions. I set my mug on the nightstand and turned to face him, my heart thundering against my ribs.
“Brooks, I?—”
“You don’t have to say anything,” he cut in, his voice low. “We both knew this time was coming.”
“What do you mean, Brooks?” I asked, furrowing my brow. “I know you said you’ll need time to adjust.”
His dark eyes finally met mine, vulnerable in a way that made my breath catch. The morning light carved shadows across his stubbled jaw, highlighting the tension there.
“These past few days...” he started, then trailed off, swallowing hard. “Rowan, I ain’t good at this. At letting people in.”
“I know,” I said with a gentle smile, reaching for his hand. His calloused fingers wrapped around mine instinctively. “And like I said, I’m willing to take things slow.”
He glanced at me for a second before his gaze dropped to the floor. “I just… I don’t know, Rowan. I’m… scared.”
The sheet slipped lower on my hips, but I didn’t care. I needed him to see me—all of me.
“I’m scared too,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.
His eyes darted to mine, surprise evident in those deep brown depths. “You? You seem so sure about everything.”
I couldn’t help but laugh, the sound soft and a little sad. “Brooks, my last relationship ended with me losing my job and running away to a town where I knew nobody. Trust me, I’m terrified.”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “Fair point.”
I reached out, my fingers grazing his stubbled jaw. “But I’m more scared of walking away from this—from you—than I am of trying.”
He leaned into my touch, eyes closing briefly. When they opened again, I could see the war being waged behind them.
“I ain’t used to having someone in my space,” he said roughly. “I’ve been alone a long time. I like my quiet. I like knowing exactly how my days are gonna go.”
“I know,” I nodded. “And I’m willing to work with you, to give you what you need. I’m not moving in, Brooks. These past three days have been amazing, but I know you like your own space. I’ve trespassed on your kindness long enough.”
Brooks’ hand came up to cover mine against his cheek. “You haven’t been trespassing,” he said, voice rough. “That’s just it. Having you here... it felt right.Too damn right.”
I held my breath, afraid to hope. The morning light caught in his dark eyes, turning them almost amber.
“I’m not asking for everything all at once,” I said carefully. “We can take this slow. Figure it out together.”
He looked down at our joined hands, his thumb tracing circles on my skin. “I’ve spent my whole life building walls, Rowan. Don’t know if I remember how to live without ‘em.”
“Then we’ll take them down one brick at a time,” I offered. “Or maybe just put in a door.”
That earned me a small laugh, the sound warming me from the inside out.
“A door,” he repeated, thoughtfully. “I might be able to manage that.”
The tension in his shoulders seemed to ease slightly. He raised his coffee mug to his lips and took a long sip, his eyes never leaving mine. When he set it down again, his expression had shifted to something more determined.
