Beneath the Summer Sky - Chapter 5: Chapter 5
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I can't stop thinking about it.
Her hand. My chest. The way it felt like the earth shifted for just a second, but I swear, it felt like the world changed in that moment.
I know what I should've done. I should've stepped away the instant she touched me. Told her it was nothing. But instead, I froze. My body reacted before my brain could catch up, and now I can't unfeel it. Her hand on me. The softness of her skin. The weight of her body so close, so vulnerable.
And the look in her eyes after, she knew too. She had to. There was no way she didn't feel it. That electric shock. That pull. It's why she backed away so quickly, why her cheeks flushed like she was caught doing something wrong.
I should've kept my distance, but we both knew that wasn't going to happen.
I wanted to say something. Anything. Tell her it was just an accident. Tell her that it didn't matter. But the words wouldn't come. And instead, I just kept working, pretending like I could focus on fixing the damn chicken coop when my thoughts were scattered all over her.
God, this was a mistake. I've been trying to bury these feelings for weeks, hell, ever since she showed up back at the ranch looking like a woman instead of a little girl. I tried to ignore it. Tried to tell myself I was just being a fool, that I'd get used to the way she moved through this house like she belonged here. That she was still Grace's best friend and always would be.
But that damn touch...
I can't stop feeling it. Every time I close my eyes, all I see is her hand resting on my chest, soft and sure. It was a touch, barely more than a graze, and yet it felt like everything.
I don't know how much longer I can keep pretending.
When we sat down for dinner, the air between us felt heavy. Uncomfortable. But she wasn't the only one fidgeting. My stomach was in knots. Every time I looked at her, I saw that same confusion reflected in her eyes. I wasn't the only one who felt it. I wasn't the only one trying to pretend it didn't matter.
She asked me questions, kept things light. How's the ranch doing? What's new with the horses? Have you had time to take a break lately?
I gave her answers, of course. I always do. But I wasn't really hearing her. Not the way I should've been. All I could hear was the pounding of my own heart, and all I could see was her face, the way her lips curved when she smiled, how she tilted her head to the side when she thought. How her fingers brushed against the glass of her water glass, like she was too aware of what she was doing.
And then, God, when she leaned in to grab the bread basket, her shoulder brushed mine. Another spark. Another flash of heat, like lightning striking the same spot twice.
I should've pulled away. Should've told her to go. But I didn't. I let her linger close, too damn close. And I couldn't stop myself from breathing her in, from taking in the scent of her shampoo, the soft warmth of her skin. Every inch of her felt like a temptation I wasn't strong enough to resist.
After dinner, she offered to help with cleanup. I could've said no. I should've said no. But I didn't. I let her stay, let her move around me as we cleaned, as she talked about her life outside the ranch. She told me stories about her friends, her work, the places she'd been. It felt like old times, the way we used to talk, but this time? The lines between us had blurred in ways I couldn't ignore.
I watched her hands move, watched the way the muscles in her arms flexed when she reached for the plates. The curve of her waist as she bent over to put things in the sink. I could feel the blood rushing to my face, could feel the tightness in my chest, and I couldn't escape it.
I told myself to focus. Focus on anything but her. But I couldn't. Every glance, every movement of hers just reminded me that she was here, in my space, and I had no idea how to handle it.
And when she left, when she walked out of the kitchen in those damn shorts that barely covered her thighs, all I could think about was how much I wanted to pull her back.
I stood in the silence for a long time, my fists clenched at my sides. I could still feel the heat from where she'd been. It was like her presence lingered in the air, impossible to ignore.
I needed to do something. Anything.
But what? I couldn't just pretend it wasn't happening. The pull between us was getting stronger, harder to ignore. And if I let myself give in, I might never get out.
I didn't want to be the man who crossed that line. I didn't want to be the man who ruined everything for a moment of weakness. But the truth? I wasn't sure if I could resist her much longer. I wasn't sure if I even wanted to.
Her hand. My chest. The way it felt like the earth shifted for just a second, but I swear, it felt like the world changed in that moment.
I know what I should've done. I should've stepped away the instant she touched me. Told her it was nothing. But instead, I froze. My body reacted before my brain could catch up, and now I can't unfeel it. Her hand on me. The softness of her skin. The weight of her body so close, so vulnerable.
And the look in her eyes after, she knew too. She had to. There was no way she didn't feel it. That electric shock. That pull. It's why she backed away so quickly, why her cheeks flushed like she was caught doing something wrong.
I should've kept my distance, but we both knew that wasn't going to happen.
I wanted to say something. Anything. Tell her it was just an accident. Tell her that it didn't matter. But the words wouldn't come. And instead, I just kept working, pretending like I could focus on fixing the damn chicken coop when my thoughts were scattered all over her.
God, this was a mistake. I've been trying to bury these feelings for weeks, hell, ever since she showed up back at the ranch looking like a woman instead of a little girl. I tried to ignore it. Tried to tell myself I was just being a fool, that I'd get used to the way she moved through this house like she belonged here. That she was still Grace's best friend and always would be.
But that damn touch...
I can't stop feeling it. Every time I close my eyes, all I see is her hand resting on my chest, soft and sure. It was a touch, barely more than a graze, and yet it felt like everything.
I don't know how much longer I can keep pretending.
When we sat down for dinner, the air between us felt heavy. Uncomfortable. But she wasn't the only one fidgeting. My stomach was in knots. Every time I looked at her, I saw that same confusion reflected in her eyes. I wasn't the only one who felt it. I wasn't the only one trying to pretend it didn't matter.
She asked me questions, kept things light. How's the ranch doing? What's new with the horses? Have you had time to take a break lately?
I gave her answers, of course. I always do. But I wasn't really hearing her. Not the way I should've been. All I could hear was the pounding of my own heart, and all I could see was her face, the way her lips curved when she smiled, how she tilted her head to the side when she thought. How her fingers brushed against the glass of her water glass, like she was too aware of what she was doing.
And then, God, when she leaned in to grab the bread basket, her shoulder brushed mine. Another spark. Another flash of heat, like lightning striking the same spot twice.
I should've pulled away. Should've told her to go. But I didn't. I let her linger close, too damn close. And I couldn't stop myself from breathing her in, from taking in the scent of her shampoo, the soft warmth of her skin. Every inch of her felt like a temptation I wasn't strong enough to resist.
After dinner, she offered to help with cleanup. I could've said no. I should've said no. But I didn't. I let her stay, let her move around me as we cleaned, as she talked about her life outside the ranch. She told me stories about her friends, her work, the places she'd been. It felt like old times, the way we used to talk, but this time? The lines between us had blurred in ways I couldn't ignore.
I watched her hands move, watched the way the muscles in her arms flexed when she reached for the plates. The curve of her waist as she bent over to put things in the sink. I could feel the blood rushing to my face, could feel the tightness in my chest, and I couldn't escape it.
I told myself to focus. Focus on anything but her. But I couldn't. Every glance, every movement of hers just reminded me that she was here, in my space, and I had no idea how to handle it.
And when she left, when she walked out of the kitchen in those damn shorts that barely covered her thighs, all I could think about was how much I wanted to pull her back.
I stood in the silence for a long time, my fists clenched at my sides. I could still feel the heat from where she'd been. It was like her presence lingered in the air, impossible to ignore.
I needed to do something. Anything.
But what? I couldn't just pretend it wasn't happening. The pull between us was getting stronger, harder to ignore. And if I let myself give in, I might never get out.
I didn't want to be the man who crossed that line. I didn't want to be the man who ruined everything for a moment of weakness. But the truth? I wasn't sure if I could resist her much longer. I wasn't sure if I even wanted to.
End of Beneath the Summer Sky Chapter 5. Continue reading Chapter 6 or return to Beneath the Summer Sky book page.