CHAPTER 3
ZARA
It’s beenhours since Holden carried me through the front door on his back like I didn’t weigh a damn thing. Just when I thought he couldn’t possibly get any hotter. Then the man wrapped his arms under my thighs and carried me to safety. His chest barely shifted under the weight of my soaking wet body. I hate to bethatgirl. But by the time my feet hit the floor, I was in love or in lust at the very least.
There’s something about Holden that is undeniably sexy. It’s all that quiet strength, that unshakable presence… It melts my overworked, over-polished, overexposed self into a puddle of butterflies and heat.
Since I’ve been here, it’s only gotten better. Holden’s given me a flashlight without me even asking. He built a fire like it’s second nature. The man handed me a steaming mug of tea that somehow made everything feel less chaotic. Then he showed me every inch of this place with quiet pride. He gave me a blanket without a word and told me to help myself to his stash of paperbacks like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Take notes people, this is what a real man looks like. No hesitation. No bravado. Just quiet, consistent care. As far as Ican tell, he’s a flannel-wrapped dream and it’s honestly a little disorienting.
And then there’s his place.
Rustic doesn’t quite cover it. It’s like stepping into a Western movie set, but without the dust and fake props. Everything feels solid and real andintentional.Sure it’s a little rough around the edges, but with the right touches it could bestunning.
Now the storm is hammering the tin roof like machine gun fire. Lightning flashes through the windows and casts everything in silver-blue strobe light. Compared to the chaos outside, this place feels like a five-star resort.
Holden steps back in with another armful of firewood, and I can’t help but rake my eyes up and down his body. The way his wet shirt clings to the outline of his massive muscles makes my mouth water.
Love. It’s for sure love.
“Home sweet home for the night,” I say, wringing water from my hair as Holden shoves the door closed behind us with more force than necessary.
He gives me a long, assessing look. “You don’t have to do that. I know that this isn’t exactly the luxury accommodations you’re used to, but I’ll make sure we stay warm and dry for the night.”
Okay, love the sound of that.
“Are you kidding?” I flail my arms out wide. “It’s amazing! Cozy and charming and full of potential.”
His mouth twitches, like he’s fighting a smile. “Full of something, alright.”
He moves to the fireplace and gets to work. The movement is practiced and efficient. The fire roars back to life a minute later. It crackles and casts dancing shadows over the room. The warmth sinks into my skin like a blanket.
I catch a glimpse of myself in the reflection of the window. I can’t help but smirk. My sequined tank top is catching the firelight. “I’m sparkling like a disco ball at a barn dance.”
“Hadn’t noticed.” Holden bites back a laugh. His eyes flick over me. They are slow and deliberate. They linger for a moment longer than necessary, and I feel his gaze crawl across my skin.
“Okay, maybe I’m not subtle. But Iamfestive.”
“If you ask me, this is the best my place has ever looked,” he says, voice lower than before.
Then you should probably keep me right here. With you. In this cowboy dream.My cheeks warm, and I laugh nervously as my heart skips a beat. I’m shocked at my own ridiculousness.
“We might be here for the night at this point.” He clears his throat and gestures toward the hall. “You can uh, grab a dry shirt from my dresser if you want. No glitter or anything, but it might be more comfortable. Top drawer.
“Thanks, I think I’m going to take you up on that because who freaking wouldn’t want to snuggle up in your shirt in front of a fire. Oh my God, Holden, do they teach this stuff in cowboy school out here?” I pad down the hall before I can embarrass myself any further.
“You are something else,” I hear his chuckle in the distance.
I pass by a small bookshelf, a pair of boots lined up neatly by the door, and an old ballcap hanging on a nail. It’s all sohim. There’s even the most adorable framed photo of Hunkleberry, Kingridge Ranch’s resident farm dog, hanging on the center of the wall just as I enter the bedroom.
I slide open his top dresser drawer and slip a white t-shirt out. When I pull it on, it goes down to my knees. Getting the wet bra off my skin is heavenly. Even better, the shirt smells like him. It’s all leather and cedar. They just don’t make guys like this in my world. I look out of the window. There isn’t a person insight. It’s total peace. This is going to be the best night of sleep I’ve had in years.
Then I stop when it hits me. My heart rate ticks up. Sleep.
There’s one bed.
One small, very flannel-covered bed.
