Page 67 of Perfect Cowboy

“A blank slate.”

“It’s not what I ever imagined for myself when I’m pushing thirty, but there are always going to be curves in life. You just need to keep going and find a way to be happy.”

Ain’t that the truth.

I’ve always had the weight of responsibility and an obligation to the family ranch, but it’s a load that I’m happy to carry. I can’t imagine doing anything else and I don’t want to.

But it means that I’m most definitely anchored in Montana.

If Ashley moves away, there’s no chance I could go with her.

Agreeing to do anything long distance wouldn’t make sense because a relationship where you’re apart most of the time can only last if the separation is temporary. She doesn’t want to live in Montana and I can’t move, so where would that leave us? Seeing each other a few times a year wouldn’t make either of us happy in the long term.

And both options are awfully big decisions for two people who have just reconnected.

Unfortunately, my brain always tries to jump thirty steps ahead, and then I end up disappointed when the life I was imagining doesn’t pan out.

“A month should give me enough time to save up some money and get a steady pipeline of freelance work,” Ashley continues. “And then I’ll be on my way.”

The thought of her leaving shouldn’t sit like rocks in my gut, but it does. Bringing her to bed was probably a very bad and dangerous idea for my sanity that shouldn’t be repeated.

But I’m not sure that I’ll be able to resist having her while I still can.

We spend the drive continuing to catch up, and it’s shocking how easily we fall back into a comfortable rhythm. When we pull into the driveway, there are guys scattered across the property working, which is exactly what I should be doing.

But when I climb out of the truck and walk over to lift Ashley down, I get the sense that every pair of eyes in the vicinity is glued to us.

“They hate me,” she whispers.

“If anyone on my property gives you any trouble, just let me know. I’ll handle it.”

“I’m so sorry for putting you and your family out, Gav.”

Whatever I do next is going to be scrutinized and probably reported across town. As loyal as my men are, word still has a way of getting around in small communities.

All it takes is one person saying something that the wrong person overhears, and then the gossip spreads like wildfire.

In a split second, all the different options flip through my mind like an old-school Rolodex.

Taking her hand and leading her across the property, acting like nothing is amiss.

Walking in front of her and letting her trail behind me, making it clear we’re friends.

Letting her take the lead and just acting as casually as possible, trying to squash speculation before it starts.

Or…

Making it clear that she’s mine, at least for now, and not giving a shit what anyone says or does about it.

“Ashley?”

“Mmm?”

She’s staring at the ranch sprawling in front of us, getting the first look at my life and livelihood that she’s had in years. While she isn’t acting overtly anxious, I don’t miss that her fists are clenched and she’s shaking.

Being constantly on the defensive has to be exhausting, and part of me can’t blame her for wanting to leave again as soon as possible. But if she had stayed the first time, the noise would have died down by now.

“Look at me.”

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