Page 9 of Barn Burner
I manage to avoid Brayden for the rest of the day. Rhett comes back from the trail ride, and I busy myself with cleaning and brushing down the horses and getting them settled for the night.
I also avoid my mom, who comes to find me to let me know when dinner’s ready and how the “handsome young British guy” is joining at the main house.
“I’ll grab something later,” I told her without sparing a glance her way.
But now, I’m sitting on my deck, sipping on a glass of whiskey to enjoy my favourite part of the day. The sun is starting to set behind the mountains, turning the sky into a blend of deep oranges and red hues. It has, in my opinion, one of the best views of the Rockies. There’s only a wooden fence separating me and the cattle grazing on the acres of open green land. I started building my house when I was seventeen alongside my dad. It was our excuse to get away from the chaos that comes with having two brothers and a sister a lot younger than me. I’m not far from the main house, but far enough that it’s easier to take my truck than it is to walk.
It gives me the separation I need to be able to switch off for the short respite I get every day.
“Hello?”
The skin on the back of my neck prickles with awareness at the sound of the voice that’s been stuck in my brain all day. What the hell is he doing here?
“Jesse? You there?” he calls out.
“Out here,” I reply gruffly.
Moments later, Brayden appears from around the side of the house. He’s dressed in a black, silky-looking athletic T-shirt and running shorts, and I can’t help but let my eyes travel the length of his strong legs, over the curves of his firm muscles, and smooth skin dusted with hair. I click my tongue at the sight of his white Converse that go up to his ankles and matching ribbed white socks that go slightly higher, only emphasizing the curve of his calves. Those shoes aren’t going to last two minutes around here.
When my gaze snaps back to his face, he’s grinning. I internally scold myself for checking him out and getting caught red-handed. I need to remember that Brayden is dangerous. Not in a threat to my life or my family kinda dangerous. But dangerous in the sense that if I allow myself to give in to a taste of temptation, like Cooper is edging me to do, I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop.
As he takes a step closer, I notice the foil-covered bowl in his hands.
“You didn’t come to the house for dinner, so I thought I’d bring it to you.” He hands over the bowl and takes a seat in the chair next to mine. “Your mum said to ‘let you starve if you can’t get your hiney inside when she tells you,’ but I figured it was the least I could do.”
I furrow my brows. “For what?”
He shifts in his seat, glancing out into the distance. His mouth twists as he seems to think over his words. “Being at the right place at the right time. At least for me, anyway. I heard it really fucked up your day, and I’m really sorry about that.” When he faces me again, there’s something in his expression that has my throat tightening slightly. Like I’ve swallowed a ball of cotton. “What you’ve done for me, bringing me out here, letting me stay…” His eyes dip, and the flash of vulnerability on his face makes him look younger. “I really appreciate it. I don’t want tobe a hindrance, so I’ll be sure to keep out of your way, but I just wanted to let you know that you gave me something that I’ll never be able to return.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him he didn’t fuck up my day, but I swallow it down because I don’t want to admit that he’s been the most exciting thing to happen to me in months. Because isn’t that fucking sad? My very existence revolves around this ranch, and I don’t know any different. The quickies I have in bars only serve as a quick release, and then it’s back to the grind. Back to ignoring the fact that while I’m surrounded by my family who love me, I’m still very much alone.
When I don’t reply after a few minutes, he stands up, and suddenly, I’m at war with myself.
I want him to stay. I want him to tell me what it is he’s running from. What have I given him that’s unreturnable? Is there something I can do to make that troubled glimmer in his eyes disappear?
“Brayden,” I manage to croak out as he reaches the edge of the porch. I clear my throat, then ask, “You said you wanted to hike? Be outside?”
He nods, and I fucking hate how my heart surges at the hopeful expression on his face.
“I can show you ’round some that’s nearby. There’s some trails that are better on horseback, if you don’t mind getting in the saddle.”
A soft smile lights his face as he nods. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
“Mhm,” I hum, not wanting to risk saying any more.
He doesn’t say anything for what feels like the longest time, just looks at me with thoughtful eyes before he taps his knuckles on the wall to my house.
“Night, Jesse.”
I tip my hat, wordlessly returning his sentiment, then watch as he disappears back the way he came.
I stare at the empty space for a long few minutes before taking the bowl and heading inside to reheat it. I go to remove the foil but pause to read the words written on a Post-it note in black marker pen.
What makes Canadian cowboys sweeter than the rest? They use maple stirrups.
I snort a laugh, shaking my head as I place the dish in the microwave. I don’t know what’s brought him out here, but maybe it won’t be so bad having him around here for a while after all.
5
