Page 90 of Saltwater Cowboy

After Wren went home last night, Wells and I spent the evening loading up the truck, making sure everything was packed and ready to go. He’d handle the produce, and I was officially on flower booth duty. Not that I had any clue what I was doing, but he reassured me we’d be set up side by side in case I needed anything.

My alarm went off while the world was still wrapped in darkness. The market started at eight, and with an hour-long drive ahead of us, we needed to be on the road by 6:15 to have enough time to set up.

When I asked about the dress code, Wells—so helpfully—told me to wear whatever I was most comfortable in. Which was a non-answer if I’d ever heard one. So, with no one to impress and zero interest in looking like I belonged, I pulled on my favorite sundress and a pair of well-worn sandals. Practical? Probably not. But I was leaning into my strengths, and fashion was one of them.

I grabbed my phone and opened the door, still groggy from sleep, ready to head to the bathroom. But as I stepped forward, something on the ground caught my eye.

A single sunflower.

I froze. My breath hitched in my throat as I stared at the bright yellow petals, soft and full, resting right outside my door like it had been waiting for me. My heart clenched, warmth unfurling in my chest. I didn’t think Wells would actually do it.

It had taken over three decades, but someone had finally given me flowers.

Swallowing hard, I bent down and picked it up, my fingers brushing against a small piece of folded paper underneath. My pulse quickened as I smoothed it open, my eyes scanning the familiar scrawl.

Roses seemed like the obvious choice.

W

A shaky breath left my lips.

The simplicity of it, the quiet thoughtfulness—it undid me. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, the kind that came when you weren’t sad, just overwhelmed in the best possible way.

It wasn’t just a flower. It was proof that someone had paid attention. That someone had thought of me, just because.

I set the flower and note gently on my dresser before heading to the bathroom, the quiet weight of the moment still lingering in my chest. By the time I made my way downstairs, the first soft streaks of sunlight were filtering through the windows, casting a light golden hue over the kitchen.

A to-go cup sat waiting on the counter, steam curling from the lid.

I wrapped my hands around it, taking a slow sip as my thoughts drifted. My past. Every twist and turn that had led me here. The emotional damage Thad had left behind had made me swear off relationships entirely. I had no desire to open myself up to that kind of hurt again. So, I was going to take full advantage of this arrangement—live here rent-free until I could comfortably move out. I had savings, sure, but this gig was buying me time until I found something more stable.

Through the window, I spotted Wells outside with Granger. The easy way he moved, the way he spoke to his dog like he was an old friend—it was something to see. He had a deep, unwavering love for that dog, and it was obvious in every small interaction.

I took another sip, watching them until they finally headed inside.

“Ready to head out?” Wells asked, running a hand through his hair as he stepped into the kitchen.

I tapped my phone screen to check the time. “Yep. I’ll take the rest of this to go.”

His eyes flicked to my phone, then narrowed. “Sunshine, is that your background?”

I tilted my head. “What?”

“Is your phone wallpaper really just… black?”

“Sure is.”

He crossed his arms, amused. “Finally removed that douchebag, huh?”

The corner of my mouth twitched. “It was time.”

“Good. Now give me your phone.”

I hesitated. “For what?”

“I’m changing your background.”

I rolled my eyes. “Just leave it. I’ll change it eventually.”