Page 98 of Saltwater Cowboy

Damn if that didn’t do something to me.

I picked up a bundle of dried lavender, twirling it between my fingers. “I like it.”

She looked up at me, something softer in her expression now. “Yeah?”

I nodded, and for a second, neither of us said anything. Just stood there in the late afternoon light, the smell of flowers and hay thick in the air, something unspoken settling between us.

Then, because I was clearly a glutton for punishment, I reached over and tucked the lavender behind her ear.

“There,” I murmured. “Now you really look the part.”

She swallowed, eyes flicking to mine, and for the first time all day, she didn’t have some smartass remark locked and loaded.

I should’ve stepped back. Should’ve let her go back to work.

But I didn’t.

Because right then, standing in the middle of my family’s barn, wearing my hat and my damn lavender, Rose Solace had never looked more like she belonged.

And that thought?

It scared me more than anything.

I leaned up against the workbench, watching Rose work. The way she moved—focused, determined, like she’d been doing this her whole life—had my thoughts drifting somewhere unexpected.

To my mom.

She would’ve loved Rose.

Mom always said I needed a woman who’d keep me on my toes. Someone who wouldn’t put up with my nonsense, who’d call it like it is. And Rose? Well, she did that without even trying.

But it wasn’t just that.

The way she was throwing herself into this, turning something small into something real, something that was hers—that would’ve made my mom happier than anything.

“You’re staring again,” Rose murmured, not looking up.

I smirked. “Admiring, remember?”

She huffed, cutting a piece of twine. “You’re thinking about something. Your face is doing that thing.”

I frowned. “What thing?”

She waved a hand toward me. “The broody cowboy thing.”

I scoffed. “I do not brood.”

Rose finally looked up, tilting her head like she was examining a piece of art. “Hmm. No, you definitely do.”

I shook my head, biting back a grin. “You are impossible.”

“So I’ve been told.”

She turned back to her work, but I wasn’t ready to let the moment go.

“My mom would’ve liked you,” I said, voice quieter now.

Rose’s hands stilled. Slowly, she glanced back at me, curiosity flickering in her eyes. “Yeah?”