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I do enough of that on my own.

Unfortunately, the truth is, we haven’t been as careful as I thought. Five times in one week is reckless and draws attention.

People like my neighbor, Ms. Donovan—who I’ve exchanged maybe four words with since moving to town—are watching. They’ve clocked Rhett’s distinct maroon pickup truck in my driveway. Those types of details go noticed in a town of fifteen thousand.

I pull out my phone and type a quick text to Rhett.

He’s been distant the past two days, barely answering my texts. It’s been nothing like his usual humor and flirtatious banter.

I stuff my grocery bags in the trunk area of my hatchback and await his response.

None comes.

Either he doesn’t check his phone or he’s left me on read.

I sit behind the wheel and stare at the screen for a minute or two longer, the irritation growing.

Has he come to the same realization? That we’ve been too reckless? That the town’s starting to talk? Maybe he’s losing interest…

My stomach flips at that last thought. It hits a little too close to home as my mind goes back to Craig and all the telltale signs that had emerged once our marriage started falling apart.

I was weighed down by doctor’s appointments and special treatments while he checked out of our relationship. He’d take hours to respond to texts and come home late. He’d act detached even to my face.

…sort of like how Rhett suddenly did the other night, abruptly ending our conversation and leaving.

I shake away the comparison and start the car, forcing my attention elsewhere. I can’t do anything about the gossip around town or Rhett’s potential loss in interest.

Just like I couldn’t do anything about Craig and our crumbling marriage. The sooner I accept that, the easier it’ll be to move on.

Things stay distant between me and Rhett until the work week rolls around again and I find myself more disgruntled that my casual cowboy hookup’s apparently ditched me.

He avoided my gaze when I pulled up to the ranch this morning. He was busy with Buck and Joaquin, herding some of the cattle, and didn’t spare a glance in my direction like he normally would.

It bothers me no matter how much I urge myself to let it roll off my back. It gives me flashbacks to Craig that I can’t shake.

So much so it poses a distraction as I sit in my office near the stables and update the medical file of the pregnant heifer.

Rhett passes by the open doorway without a glance, his flannel shirt damp with sweat and sticking to his shoulders from a long day toiling away.

I’m on my feet before I’ve considered how silly I’d look confronting him.

“Rhett,” I call at the doorway.

He stops mid-stride and then takes another second to bother turning around. “You called me, doc?”

His tone’s flat. So is his expression, devoid of his usual spark.

“Do you have a second?”

“If you make it quick.”

…ouch. He’s definitely upset with me. The question is why.

I shrug and fold my arms protectively over my chest. “It’s been a few days. You seem distracted lately.”

“Does it matter if I am?”

“I… I guess not…” I say slowly, blinking a few times. More certain than ever he does have a problem with me. “But usually you’d…”