Delivery to the Farmhouse (Havenwood Cowboys Romance #4)

Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

I wasn’t sure I’d ever gone to Belle’s farmhouse this much in all my life. This trip made three times in just as many weeks. Belle was cheerful enough when she handed me a silver roller suitcase to use.

“Have a great time,” she said. “I want to hear all about it when you get back!”

I went home and laid the suitcase open on my bed. My Anywhere But Here binder sat where I’d left it the other night on the coffee table in front of the couch. It didn’t matter where I went—roaming from my room to my bathroom for toiletries and back again—it felt like the binder stared me down.

“Don’t look at me like that,” I told it as I carried my travel-sized toothpaste into my room. “I’m not cheating on you. Just because this trip isn’t one I planned out. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s amazing that I’m going at all.”

And with Colton Holden. Who would have guessed?

Once I got my suitcase all set except for what I’d wear tomorrow, I moved to the kitchen for snacks only to come up empty-handed. A few ideas swarmed in my brain. I’d have to stop by The Mercantile for some snacks and lunch items .

On that note, I texted Colton.

Me: I’ll plan some food for us. We’ll eat out for dinners.

Colton: The hotels will have breakfast. I got everything booked.

He did? Already?

This road trip was legit!

Me: That was fast.

Colton: So is Google. *winky emoji*

I rested my hip against the counter, unable to clear the glee from my face. I was in complete disbelief. This felt more daring than anything I’d ever done—and I’d wanted daring. I’d wanted a change of pace.

It was so much better than taking off on my own. Colton Holden was going to be with me.

Another text came through, not from Colton this time, but from Jo.

Jo: I got into ISU!

Me: That’s great!

Jo: Want to celebrate? Some friends and I are going to the Elkhorn this weekend.

This weekend. My insides were doing the floss. I was going to a land far, far away this weekend.

Me: No, thanks. I’m going out of town for about a week.

Jo: Where to?

Me: Mount Rushmore.

With my boss. I didn’t exactly consider him my boss since technically, I worked for Bryce. But it was close enough.

Jo: Fun! You going with your family?

I’d known the question would come, but I wasn’t ready to answer it.

Me: With a friend.

Colton was a friend—I knew that much. But from the way all of my internal organs were thumb wrestling, I suspected he was more than that. And I wasn’t sure if I was ready to explore that or not.

While Colton’s truck was the most comfortable vehicle I’d yet ridden in, I felt anything but relaxed. And it wasn’t because we’d just left Bridgewater behind. It wasn’t because we were driving eighty miles an hour down the freeway. It wasn’t even that I was nervous to finally plunge into a new destination I had yet to add to my binder.

It was because of the handsome cowboy sitting behind the wheel.

He made me SO nervous. I couldn’t seem to sit still. My feet bounced. My fingers drummed on my knees. I folded my arms. Then I unfolded them.

What did I usually do with my arms while I was riding in someone else’s car? I’d never had to worry about it. But now? Now, it felt like any landing place they took wasn’t right. Like my discomfort was more than obvious.

I knew I was only making it worse by fidgeting so much. But I didn’t know what else to do.

“Everything okay?” Colton said, eyeing me.

Or, at least, I thought he was eyeing me. He wore a pair of sunglasses that gave him a darker edge than he usually had. For some reason, those puppies only emphasized just how cutthroat his jawline was.

What was it about hot men in sunglasses? It gave a man such a fierce look, it cranked my pulse to Mt. Everest heights.

“I’m fine,” I lied.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Because if you want, I can get off on this exit and head right back.”

“No,” I said too loudly, darting my hands in his direction.

We’d already made it this far. No sense in turning around.

His smile made an appearance. “All right, then. If you’re sure.”

“I just…” I didn’t know what to say, so like an antsy horse just put out to pasture, I went for it. “This is weird. Is this weird?”

“What’s weird?” He kept his attention on the freeway, angling the car into the fast lane to pass a semi.

“This,” I said, watching the barren Idaho landscape fly by. Things were mostly flat, covered with weeds or fields. A new weigh station for trucks had been built, and several semis were pulling off to do their duty. “You and me.”

“Why is it weird?”

The sound of his blinker was the only noise between us as he made it past the slowing semi and returned to the slower lane to allow another pickup to pass us.

My fingers pulled at themselves as though they thought each other was made of clay. “I guess I wasn’t sure what to expect from this trip, and I just…you’re acting so cool about everything. ”

He acted so chill and collected, with his jeans hugging his thighs in ways I couldn’t ignore, with his hands on the wheel, with his sunglasses and hair sweeping up over his forehead. Like he was the epitome of sexy calm.

Meanwhile, inside, I was like a kid at parties who had too much sugar and couldn’t contain themselves.

“I’m acting cool because this is. I like you, Natalie.”

“You…”

He slid me a look. “You’re awesome, and I think you’re fun to be around.”

“Oh.” This time, the sugar-fed kid busted out a pair of maracas and shook them like a fool while dancing on top of the desks.

“Does that help you relax at all? Unless there’s something else making you act like a trapped badger.” He smiled, his attention returning to the road.

What was I, six years old? Why should I be geeking out over the fact that an attractive man just told me he liked me?

“I’m fun to be around?”

“Yeah. Especially right now.” He grinned at me.

He didn’t say it outright, but I knew he’d noticed my discomfort—and he was laughing inside about it! I had the urge to do something else juvenile. To poke at him.

See how fun he thought that was.

Instead, I folded my arms. It was time to contain those puppies.

“We’re just driving right now,” I said.

“That’s my point. We don’t have to do anything fancy. Your company is enough for me, and I’m looking forward to more of it on this trip. So kick back. Relax with me, Nat.”

Sure. Relax. With him?

“How about some music? What kind of music do you like?”

I glanced into the sideview mirror as I considered what to tell him. The road literally stretched behind us, and the phrase “Let’s put some road behind us,” had a new meaning .

As far as his question went, nothing came to mind.

What kind of music did I like? He was tying me into knots.

“You’re going to make me pick?” I asked, deflecting.

“Sure. I like to listen to something while I drive. Something we can sing to.”

This was new. “You sing?”

“Only when no one can hear because believe me, it ain’t pretty.” He flashed that grin at me again.

This man was sunshine to my heart. I didn’t realize how tense I was until I allowed my shoulders to relax.

His words were soothing. I like you, Nat. As I heard his voice replay in my mind, I breathed easier than I had since we left town.

Deep breaths. Slow. Regular. It was easier now because the truth was, I liked him, too.

I was glad he mentioned music. This was a fairly safe topic.

My elbow rested on the console between us. “Let me guess. You listen to country.”

“Can’t drive a tractor without it. But this trip isn’t for me.”

Aw.

Wait a minute. He meant this trip was for me. Just how many calls was he going to let me make?

It was time to test the waters.

“So if I said opera, you’d listen to it?”

He shrugged. “Why not? Is that what you like?”

He was serious. Either that, or he was agreeing just to give me a hard time right back.

Colton reached for the massive screen in the center of his dashboard, tapped, and gave a command for opera. The robotic voice responded, and then music poured into the cab. It was orchestral and flowy, and soon a high-pitched soprano started singing in what I suspected was Italian.

“I wasn’t serious!” I said.

“I was. This is what I pick every time.”

“Liar. ”

Colton then took me by complete surprise when he lifted a hand like he was singing an aria on stage and began belting mumbo jumbo in a falsetto tone at the top of his lungs, complete with outrageously forced vibrato.

“You did not just do that,” I said, laughing so hard it hurt my stomach.

Smirking at me, he tapped the radio and turned it to a country station instead. The strains of a fiddle, guitar, and soft drums pattered through, and he lowered the volume to a more reasonable level.

“That was just for you, baby,” he said. “I got plenty more where that came from.”

Still laughing, I punched his arm and basked in the simplicity just being with him provided. More of the tension in my torso slipped away. He was easy to be around. So easy.

Yeah, I liked that about him, too.

“Your turn. Let’s hear what you got,” he said, following the line of the freeway as it turned and crossed over a bridge.

The intro from Josh Turner’s “Would You Go With Me” strummed through the cab. I settled into my seat, glad he’d started with this rather than something sung by a woman.

“Only if you sing with me.”

His response was the lyrics. He started in. Then I joined. He cranked up the volume once more, and as we passed another semi and took the necessary junction toward Pocatello, we gave the song all we had so that by the time it ended, I was laughing again.

Several more songs came on, a few I didn’t know. But Colton sang along to them, and I enjoyed hearing his tenor more than the song itself.

Eventually, the singing died down. I retrieved my book from my backpack. While I was normally a romance novel kind of gal—I wasn’t afraid of a bodice-ripper or two—I decided to bring something a little milder. I didn’t want Colton to see the shirtless guys that usually ornamented the books I read .

This one was a pirate fantasy romance about a princess whose people were dying, and so she traveled to a land of magic to find a cure, only to be forced into wedlock to a smoking hot pirate. It was another favorite series I hadn’t read in a few years.

Several hours passed as I turned pages. We talked about other things like Colton’s childhood with four brothers, like his interest in photography. When we pulled over at the rest stop, he brought up a few of the pictures he’d taken recently.

My favorite was the rustic scene of a sunset with the white windmills dotting the fields near Bridgewater in the background. The sky blazed with bright traces of blazing orange, and the fence off to the side had the perfect rustic look.

“That’s beautiful,” I told him.

“I took that from my backyard.”

“You’re kidding,” I said, handing his phone back.

“Not kidding. We get the most beautiful sunsets, and sometimes, while I’m out in the field, I keep my camera on hand so I can pull over and capture the magic. You never know when it’s going to appear.”

Once we finished, we were back on the road again. Soon enough, I lowered my book and stared out the window, watching the sign for Wyoming pass us by.

The surrounding landscape flattened and grew more sagebrush. The flowers offered traces of purple, bursting over the countryside, and had its own rural beauty.

I dug into my pack of trail mix, eating a fistful of peanuts and dried fruit and offering some to Colton as well. He took some, thanking me.

We drove in silence for a little while until the conversation picked up again.

“Have you been able to talk to Bryce yet?” I asked, propping my stocking feet up on the dash.

“About what?” Colton asked, reaching for his water and taking a sip to wash down the trail mix .

“You mentioned something after the mud incident. You wanted Luke’s advice on talking to Bryce about buying him out of his share of the farm. Have you convinced him?”

Colton grimaced. “I haven’t had the chance to mention it to him yet.”

“How come?”

“He’s busy with the wedding,” Colton said, but from the sound of his voice, I suspected there was something else to it.

From how things went when my sisters had gotten married, and even when Isaac and Jenn married, the women did most of the planning. Bryce had already bought him and Allie a new house for crying out loud.

I doubted he was that busy.

Was there another reason Colton didn’t want to talk to him about this?

Our conversation shifted into something else only to die off again. I fell asleep for an hour or so, and when I woke, Colton was slowing, curving around the bend and heading into a small town. We passed a sign announcing that we’d arrived at Jackson Hole.

“We made it?” I said, rubbing sleep out of my eyes. “Already?”

“Here’s our first stop,” Colton said, turning past a few quaint-looking shops and one with large antlers on its sign. “I got us a hotel, but I thought you might want to have a look around first. We could grab some dinner. How does that sound?”

“That sounds amazing,” I said, and my stomach rolled over in its sleep-in response.

This was the perfect tourist town. After seeing a handful of establishments, we passed by several more ranches whose fields spread far and wide, spanning green and reaching to the hills beyond. Soon enough, we made our way into the heart of the town.

There were small shops everywhere. It seemed as though every parking space in front of them was filled. In the center of the shops and the wooden boardwalk serving as a walking path was what looked like a large park.

“Whoa!” I said.

Because standing at all four entrances to that park—on every corner—were massively thick arches made up entirely of antlers.

The arch was iconic. I’d seen it from pictures before, but had no idea each was this large in person.

After circling for several minutes, Colton found a parking spot, and we got out. I stretched my legs and back, grateful for the chance to stand up. Our last rest stop had been a few hours ago.

“Check it out,” he said, pointing to the arch nearest to us.

“How many antlers do you think are in there?” I asked, staring at just how thick the antlers were assembled.

“Maybe a thousand,” Colton said. “We could look it up.”

“Yeah,” I said, tipping my head back to take it in.

Colton stepped away in time to catch a passing couple. “Excuse me,” he said, handing them his phone. “Can you get our picture?”

My stomach went rock hard. Before I knew what was happening, Colton lugged me beneath the arch and slipped his arm around my waist, shooting my heart into my throat.

His fingers resting on my hip may as well have spikes on them. I could feel them through my shirt.

It wasn’t exactly unpleasant; I just went rigid. It was like the beginning of our trip all over again; I didn’t know how to hold myself. I didn’t know how to function properly with this man’s arm around me. He was strong. He took action, and he smelled so good. Woodsy and adventurous.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“We need to document.” He waved my attention toward the couple standing ten feet away and pointing his phone at us.

“I didn’t know you were a documenting kind of guy.”

Colton held out a hand to them and turned to me. “This is a pivotal moment for you. Someday, you might want something to look back on.”

If it included him, I wasn’t sure I needed a picture to remember this moment. The way he looked at me right now branded itself into my eyelids. I was fairly certain I’d remember the gleam in those blue eyes for the rest of my life.

Somehow, I managed a breath and a nod. I settled myself in, allowing him to hook me closer to his side. My fingers found his, and I was so surprised when he wove his through mine.

My smile came naturally.

“There you go,” the man holding Colton’s phone said, stepping closer and handing it back to him.

I’d forgotten how to move. Now that I’d had his arm around me, I didn’t want to go another step without it.

“That’s a great picture,” Colton said, looking at his phone.

“Let me see.”

He lifted his arms, hefting the phone out of my reach. My fingers went to his sides, and I was completely elated when a little giggle escaped.

From him, for the record. Not me.

“You’re ticklish?” I said, delighted.

“That’s confidential,” he said.

But my fingers had a mind of their own. I poked him again. Another laugh. And he squirmed. Squirmed!

Was there anything more endearing than a man who was ticklish?

“Are you going to show me yet?”

“Fine, I give, obstinate woman.”

“I’ll ignore your use of that word for now,” I said, taking the phone and looking at the picture.

The man who’d taken the shot had trapped it perfectly, keeping the antler arches at just the right position to frame us in. I loved the sight of Colton and me, of his fingers looped with mine on my stomach. I touched the same spot, remembering his hand and feeling the little flip in my stomach all over again.

“This place looks good,” Colton said, taking his phone from me and gesturing to an establishment with a wooden sign.

“Edna’s Barbecue?” I said, reading it aloud. “I’m down.”

“Lead the way.” Colton gestured for me to precede him inside.

The air was cooled, and the scent of smoked meat and barbecue sauce mingled in the air and stirring my hungry stomach. Minutes later, the receptionist welcomed us, seated us in a small booth facing a narrow stage, and a waitress was there with our drinks.

I picked up one of the menus, peeking over its contents. Looking up, that was when I noticed just how rigidly Colton’s fist was on the table. In fact, his whole body was rigid. His jaw was tight, and he directed his glare toward a pair of men sitting near the bar.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

Did he know them or something? How random would that be to run into someone all the way here?

His expression could rival a crowbar. “I do not like the way that guy is looking at you.”

My eyes scaled the establishment. Couples sat together at tables and booths. A waitress stopped to set a newly filled drink on someone’s table. Another pair of bus boys was clearing a table.

And there at the bar, a man sat on one of the stools with his head angled in our direction. He had a large mole near his mouth, and he rested his elbow behind him and smirked, tipping his hat at me the minute our eyes caught across the room.

Sweat prickled along my hairline. “He’s not looking at me.”

My lie was obvious, even to me.

“He’s done nothing but stare at you since we walked in.”

Not possible. And even if he was, so what?

Was Colton jealous? Why did the idea of that make my stomach do a little dance ?

“You’re imagining things.” I passed him the menu.

Colton took it, but instead of perusing it and moving on with his night, he left his seat.

“What are you?—?”

Before I knew it, he slid in next to me. The action itself was enough to tap the button that would detonate a thousand bombs beneath my skin, but he went and made things worse by slipping his hand around my shoulders.

A nuclear bomb went off in my chest. We’re talking alarms and everything.

The possessive act shouldn’t have been this attractive. It shouldn’t have sent all my nerve endings into hysteria, leaving them scrambling for an exit like a frantic group of people who just found out the building was on fire.

The smell of his body wash should be illegal. It was musky, with a hint of spice, and it swirled right into my stomach. And don’t even get me started on his thighs brushing mine beneath the table.

“What are you doing?” I asked under my breath.

“Sending a message.” He glared at the man across the room.