Page 34 of Knot Your Problem, Cowboy
Masculine. Warm. Delicious. Honey and freshly baked bread. And it smoothers me harder than it should. Like it’s wrapping around my ribs and tugging me closer, threading into my veins and anchoring itself in my chest. I suck in a breath, like that might help, but it only makes it worse. Stronger. More real.
Why is it doing that?
This isn’t normal.
I’ve never reacted to anyone like this. Not even Nolan. Not once did his scent make my knees weak or my thoughts skip like a broken record. I didn’t crave hisnearness or feel like something essential in me tilted toward him without permission.
But now it’s like my body is attuned to Walker in ways I don’t understand. Like there’s a string connecting us, pulled taut.
Please don’t let this be a scent match. Please not that. Surely not.
I would’ve known, right? There would’ve been signs. Something. Anything. And yet?—
“Close your eyes,” Walker says suddenly, his voice low and rough, pulling me out of my spiraling thoughts before they can fully swallow me.
“Excuse me?” I blink at him, but he just gives me a look, the annoyingly confident one with the soft eyes and the tilted smirk that has me forgetting how to put together a sentence.
“Trust me,” he says, quieter now. Rougher. And somehow that makes it worse. “Promise it’s worth it.”
Those brown eyes are warm and sincere, maybe even a little shy, and against every last shred of logic I own, I close my eyes.
I feel his hand slide into mine, calloused, hot, steady. I try not to react, but my skin betrays me, goose bumps racing up my arms.
“Careful now,” he murmurs. “There’s a root… that’s it. Few more steps.”
Without sight, every other sense sharpens. I pick up on the birdsong above, the rustle of our shoes in the grass,the way sunlight brushes my cheeks. But mostly, I’m aware of him. The way his scent wraps around me, pulling something loose and vulnerable inside me. Every inch of me is eager, ready to curl up at his feet like a damn stray.
I shouldn’t feel like this. Not over a man I barely know. Especially not one who probably thinks I asked him on a date earlier like a blushing idiot. I mean, maybe I did kind of imply that… but not on purpose. And now I’m walking through a forest while holding his hand like some sort of woodland courtship ritual, and I’m spiraling.
“Almost there,” he says. “Okay. Open your eyes.”
I do, and my breath stutters to a halt.
We’re standing at the edge of what can only be described as animal paradise. The enclosure stretches wide and deep, two acres at least. The fencing is tall and curved inward at the top like a serious fortress, and I can see where it burrows into the ground. Heavy-duty netting creates a canopy overhead.
But what’s inside makes my heart squeeze.
It’s not just a shelter; it’s magic.
Cat trees built like real ones stretch toward the netting above. Houses dot the space like a miniature village, some bright and painted with cheerful murals, others like rustic cabins or tiny castles. Bridges and tunnels connect them all, like a skyway system for the four-legged. Water trickles from a central fountain, shaded hammocks sway between posts, and onecorner even has a fake beach, complete with warm lamps and a sandpit.
And there are cats everywhere. I might have squealed.
“Walker,” I breathe. “This is… I don’t have words.”
He rubs the back of his neck, suddenly a little bashful. “Took me and the boys a year to build. I just wanted a place where they could be safe. Run. Climb. Do what they need to do without worryin’ about traps or coyotes or?—”
He breaks off, jaw flexing. I glance at him, and my chest aches at how much this clearly means to him.
“It’s incredible,” I say softly. “They’re lucky. You made them a whole kingdom.”
He shrugs, but his ears turn a little pink. “Just figured if we were takin’ them in, we should do it right. When we first moved into town, there was a huge feral cat problem, so I fixed it.”
I stare at him then, really look, and he’s watching me. Not the enclosure. Me.
My stomach dips. There’s something in his gaze that hits deeper than it should. Heat prickles up my neck, across my cheeks, and curls low in my belly, warm and unsettling. He’s watching me like he sees something no one else has, and I can’t seem to look away.
Then he says, “It’s my animal sanctuary.” And just like that, everything in him shifts.
