Page 59 of Tempted By the Broken Cowboy
She smiles at my words but doesn’t say anything else. I reach into the basket for the flask with the coffee, the smell of it mixing with her scent—something sweet and sharp that I’ve come to crave.
She takes the mug I hand her, fingers brushing mine, and my resolve nearly crumbles right there. Because this—her, here with me—it’s the closest thing to perfect I’ve ever had.
I swallow hard, looking at her over the rim of my cup. My throat feels like gravel, but I know I can’t keep holding back.
“Quinn,” I begin, voice low. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
Her eyes are on me, steady and expectant, and suddenly the coffee tastes like nothing. My palms itch and my tongue feels heavy. But if I don’t get this out now, I’ll choke on it forever.
I set my mug down, leaning forward, elbows braced on my knees. “Quinn, last night, when you told me about Landon’s birthday…” My voice falters. Hell, I can barely force the words out. “I swear to God, I don’t remember, and that’s not an excuse—it’s a failure. One I’ll regret the rest of my life.”
Her lips part, but she doesn’t interrupt. That’s worse, because her silence makes me confess deeper.
“I’ve thought back, over and over, trying to drag the memory out of my drunken haze, but it’s just gone. And the thought that I hurt you by forgetting, that I made you feel like you didn’t matter—“ My throat closes up. I rake a hand through my hair, exhaling hard. “It’s eating me alive. You deserve a man who remembers every second. Instead, you got me.”
Her eyes bore into mine, and the ache in my chest sharpens.
“I can’t undo it. But I can promise you this—“ I shift closer, searching her gaze, needing her to see I mean it. “I’ll never take you for granted again. Not one laugh, not one touch, not one damn sunrise. You have my word.”
Her lashes flutter, but she stays quiet. My heart hammers, my pride burning away until all that’s left is the truth.
“I’ve fought this for too long,” I admit, voice low and rough. “But I’m done pretending. I’m in love with you, Quinn. I don’t want anyone else—just you.”
The words hang between us, heavy and terrifying, but also the truest thing I’ve ever said.
The silence is brutal. Her eyes don’t leave mine, but she gives me nothing. No frown, no smile, not even a twitch of her lips to let me know where her heart is.
The longer it drags, the more my stomach knots. I can hear the damn horses shifting in the distance, birds cutting across the sky, even the wind whispering through the grass, but not her voice. Not the answer I need.
My palms are slick. I want to reach for her, but what if she pulls away? What if I’ve just wrecked everything by speaking too soon, too raw?
“Quinn…” My voice is hoarse. It comes out begging. “Say something. Please.”
Her lashes lower, then lift again—she’s searching me for cracks. She’s calm, unhurried. It feels like a slow death, watching her decide my fate while I can barely sit still.
I drag my hands down my face and mutter, “Christ, I knew I should’ve kept my mouth shut.”
That’s when she finally speaks, voice soft but firm. “You don’t get to run now, Beck. You put it out there—you don’t get to crawl back into your silence.”
My chest tightens, hope sparking, but her gaze hardens just enough to keep me from breathing easy.
“How do I even know this is real? That you’re not just caught up in the moment, saying what you think I want to hear?”
The doubt in her tone guts me. I lean forward, desperate for her to see I mean every word. “Quinn, look at me.”
Her eyes flick up, wary, guarded.
“If this was just about heat, or about chasing the next high, I’d have walked away a long time ago. I’ve done that before, with women who didn’t matter. But you—“ I choke on the words, but I force them out anyway. “You’re the one person I can’t walk away from. You’re in my head when I wake up. You’re the reason I’m trying to pull myself together. You think I’d be losing sleep over anyone else?”
Her lips part, but no sound comes.
I shake my head, my voice rough, almost angry at myself for letting her doubt it. “Don’t ever question if I love you. I sure as hell don’t deserve you, but it’s real, Quinn.”
For a moment, the world stills between us, and I can see her defenses wavering, even as she bites down on her lip like she doesn’t want to believe me.
Her gaze flickers over me, searching, as though she’s testing the weight of every word. Then she leans back, arms folding, her voice trembling but firm. “Love isn’t enough, Beck. Not with you. You’ve hurt me, more than once. You’ve been reckless with yourself, and with me. If I say I love you back, it means you have to prove you’re the man I can trust with it.”
The words cut, but I nod, swallowing the shame that rises up. “I’ll prove it. I’ll do whatever it takes.”
