Page 27

“Not even close.”

For a few minutes we ate without talking, and I leaned into the silence. When was the last time I’d sat across from a man without feeling like I had to fill the quiet? Most of my relationships had been built around my schedule. Drinks after work, dinner squeezed between event days. Silence usually meant somebody needed to say something. But with Beau, it didn’t.

I carried both bowls to the sink.

“You don’t have to do that,” he said behind me.

“I know.”

I turned on the water anyway. When I turned around, he was standing on the other side of the kitchen, watching me.

“You’re staring again.”

“You noticed.”

“That tends to happen when you’re three feet away looking directly at me.”

He stepped closer, and the space between us disappeared fast. I should’ve been thinking about what came next. I was good at that. Making exit plans. Figuring out how to handle the morning after. But a different question came out.

“What happened with the camera?”

Beau stopped.

Yesterday at the rodeo grounds, he’d told me someone had decided his no didn’t matter. I hadn’t asked for the rest because it didn’t feel like something he owed me. Now I wanted to know.

He looked toward the dark window over the sink. “The woman I dated before.”

I waited.

“She liked the ranch… the horses… the mountains.” His gaze came back to me. “She liked pictures of me out here too.”

“But you didn’t.”

“No. I told her I didn’t want pictures of me online,” he said. “She posted them anyway.”

“After you told her not to?”

“More than once.”

My chest went tight. How many people had I talked into a picture they didn’t want to be in? I’d tried it on him the first morning.

“So that’s why you hate cameras.”

“Part of it.”

“What’s the rest?”

He rubbed his thumb along the edge of the counter. “She liked telling people she was dating a Montana cowboy. But she didn’t like it when I had to do chores before dawn or change plans to look after a sick horse.”

“The pictures were easier.”

“Yeah.” He didn’t sound angry when he said it. That bothered me more.

“So she liked the idea of you.”

“Pretty much.”

“And you’re defending her.”