Every December, when he comes here to stay, he lingers like a ghost—present but never really here. He drifts through the days like he’s punching a clock, pretending to work, and going through the motions, but never committing to any task that actually needs doing.
I ask him to deliver some trees, which means loading up the truck, taking them into town, and handling a simple transaction. But it’s always a firm no and a roll of his eyes like I’ve asked him to cut off his own arm. I ask him to talk to the families who visit the farm, to at leastpretend he gives a shit, but the look on his face alone is enough to make them want to turn on their heels and never come back. People want warmth, a friendly smile, and a handshake that makes them feel welcome, but Travis barely manages indifference. Most days, he’s just straight-up unapproachable.
He runs from the dirt and sweat of honest labor, from the weight of responsibility that comes with actually having to earn something, but what cuts deepest is that he runs from me. Every squealing tire, every cloud of dust… it’s just anotherfuck youto everything this farm represents.
I’m not asking for love; I’m not even asking for like—just a basic level of respect.But Travis would rather burn bridges than build them, and God help me, I’m getting tired of holding the matches.
Chapter 5
Piper
It’s only beena month since I started dating Travis, and in that time, I’ve seen Christian once. It’s like he’s vanished—poof, gone, like someone flipped a switch and snuffed out the sun.
Gone are those nights at the bar where he’d make me forget time existed. Now all I get is a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes before he bolts like I’m carrying the plague. Something’s changed, and it knots my stomach in a way I can’t ignore. I hate how the bar feels too quiet without his voice and the way my nights drag without those conversations that make me feel seen in ways Travis hasn’t yet managed.
I assumed I’d see more of Christian now that I’m with his son, but I learned fast that Travis has no time for his father. It’s a grudge I can’t wrap my head around because the Christian Travis describes isn’t the Christian I know. I won’t be judging the man who made me feel more at home in five minutes than Travis has in a few weeks, based on some family drama I don’t understand.
I picked up an extra shift at the bar tonight. I’ve got to go to some fancy birthday thing for Travis’s grandfather this weekend, and he’s already told me I need to find something that looks expensive because I’ll be meeting his mom for the first time.
So basically, I need money for an outfit that’ll help me blend into theirworld long enough to get through the night without embarrassing myself. Which means I’m here, elbow-deep in the beautiful chaos of the bar, trading extra hours for extra cash all for a dress I don’t even want, to survive a night I’m dreading, in a world I don’t think I’m meant to fit into.
I’m stacking glasses fresh from the dishwasher when I hear the door swing open, and when I look up at the mirror behind the bar, I see that hot daddy cowboy, and my insides twist like I have no control over my body.
I set the last glass down as he heads straight for me, and before I turn, I take a quick look at myself because, you know… it’s Christian, and I’m apparently the kind of girl who still wants to impress her boyfriend’s father.
“Hey, stranger. What can I get you?” I throw on the smile that comes with the job, but he just blinks at me like he wasn’t expecting me to be here.
“You don’t usually work on a Wednesday.”
So it’s like that.
He comes in when I’m not here.
“Callan gave me a few extra shifts,” I say with a shrug, trying to keep it breezy, like that realization doesn’t sting a little more than it should. He nods, and we’re both just standing there a little too long, caught in a silence that feels heavier than it has any right to. Eventually, I clear my throat. “So… what’ll it be?”
“Bourbon, please.”
I force a smile, even though I wish I understood why everything suddenly feels different between us. I turn to make his drink, letting my hands stay busy while my thoughts spiral. As I tuck my hair behind my ear, I lift my gaze just enough to catch a glimpse of the mirror behind the bar. Christian’s gaze burns into my back as he drags a hand along his jaw. The heat spikes up my spine, and with it comes a rush of guilt.
I shouldn’t still be this responsive to him.
I finish making the drink and slide the bourbon across the bar. He nods once, turns, and starts to walk away without saying a word, and something inside me snaps.
“Do you really hate my company that much?” I laugh, like it’s playful, but we both know I mean it.
Christian stops mid-step and turns back toward me, resting his forearms on the bar like he’s bracing himself.
“I don’t hate your company, Piper, not even close.”
“Then prove it,” I challenge, folding my arms across my chest. “Sit. Stay and talk to me like you used to.”
The hesitation in his eyes says everything before his mouth ever moves.
He won’t.
We both know he won’t.
“Is it because I’m with Travis?” I ask, pushing past the fear curling in my chest. “Is that what this is about?”
