Brielle kept struggling to get free. "I'm tired. I think it's time you go," she said, pulling him from his thoughts.
He was thankful for that. "That's a good idea," Colt told her, and this time he released his hold.
She stumbled from the couch and then stood across the room with her arms over her chest as she waited for him to leave. Colt knew he should just go, but for some reason, he found himself walking toward her.
He had to have one taste, had to say goodbye with a kiss. Without saying a word, he cupped her neck in his hand and bent down, gently caressing her lips with his, holding her gaze. Her quiet sigh let him know she wanted him, but now he was the one confused. Did she want him or need him? Did it really matter?
As he turned and walked slowly away, shutting the door behind him, and almost hazily making his way toward his horse, he realized that it did matter - this city girl mattered more than he cared to admit.
As he rode home, Brielle's story played over and over again in his head. This woman had been trouble from the first day he'd found her on her backside in front of her porch. A little over a month later, she was in even more trouble.
Chapter Eighteen
Brielle woke up early with a headache that was throbbing so violently, it felt as if her skull would split wide open at any second. That's what crying got you.
Stumbling from bed, and proceeding by feel alone, she made her way down the stairs somehow without taking a tumble, and found the kitchen. Opening her eyes and letting in light felt excruciating, so she didn't even attempt it until she had to pour a cup of water and grab her Advil container. Then she practically crawled into the living room.
She lay on the couch and waited for the painkillers to kick in. Half an hour later, she dared to open her eyes again. There was still a minor pulsing in her temple, but she could actually move without shards of pain ripping through her.
Going back upstairs, she got ready for the day. After her meltdown yesterday, she felt vulnerable, exposed. Today she was going to take some of that back. Today she would prove that she could be a good owner of this place - that even though she didn't want to belong here, she still did.
She was going to corner Joe, and she was going to learn how to run a combine. Come hell or high water, when it came time for the harvest, she was going to help do it. She would feel useful, like a part of the team, needed.
With the wall around her heart slowly crumbling, she needed to feel this way, needed to feel something other than like a spoiled brat, or like a city girl, as Colt enjoyed saying in such a mocking tone.
With dogged determination, she showered, got dressed and made her way back downstairs to brew a fresh pot of coffee. It wasn't going to be an easy day, but she planned to learn something. And whoever refused her today was going to be fired on the spot - it was just that plain and simple.
///
No, she didn't want to be a tyrant, but if she was going to run this place, she had to draw a line eventually, and today was that day. And that line was only inches from every single one of her employees' toes.
Stepping outside, Brielle felt good about being up just as the sun was coming over the horizon. Though she had vowed never to let it happen, she found herself moving over to the quaint rocking loveseat on her porch and sitting down.
Sipping her coffee, she took in deep breaths of fresh mountain air, and she waited for her day to begin. When she watched a rider appear over the crest of a hill, his form perfect, his horse moving quickly, she zeroed in on the man and horse.
As the man came closer, she discovered it was Colt, and a little thrill shot through her. She hadn't wanted to see him today, had wanted to run and hide after telling him her sob story, but as he drew nearer, she couldn't feel anything other than glad.
That was something she hadn't thought would happen.
When he stopped in front of her house, their eyes connected, but she couldn't tell what he was thinking or feeling from the expression on his face. Was he happy to see her? Was this business or personal? She hated that she had to wonder, hated that she even cared.
"Good morning, Brielle," he said as he dismounted. "I hope that you had a good night's sleep."
"I did, actually," she lied. "Sorry for the breakdown yesterday." She didn't know why she was apologizing. He'd been the one to push her, but it was easier to say the words than to sit there in silence while he watched her.
After taking the steps two at a time, he joined her on the rocker, pressing his leg up against hers.
"I'm glad you opened up to me. It seems no matter how whole we are, there are things from our past that stay with us. For you, it's your mother abandoning you. For me, it's the loss of my brother and parents. Maybe it doesn't haunt us every single day - maybe it makes us a little more approachable. I don't know. I'm not a psychologist. What I do know is that I couldn't quit thinking about you last night."