Chapter 11

There's a noise of metal hitting the floor in front of me, making me look up from measuring a piece of wood to see what's going on. My gaze finds Julia a few strides away, just outside the barn doors. She"s got that concentrated look on her face, brows furrowed, lips pursed. The sun catches her red hair like it"s trying to ignite a flame.

"Need some help with that?" I ask, retracting the tape measure, already heading towards her.

She looks up, green eyes surprised yet welcoming. "If you"re offering, I won"t say no."

"Never too proud to get my hands dirty," I quip, closing the distance between us.

Not only did she love the sunflower growing kit, she talked me into having a small greenhouse in which she insisted that she could set up on her own today. The idea sounded good based on her love for gardening and my desire to spend more time with her outside of her work and my wood shavings. So, we ran into town and picked up a do-it-yourself greenhouse package where the frame is half-assembled now with metal rods and clear plastic sheets scattered across the grass.

"Hand me that wrench, will ya?" she asks, pointing without looking.

"Sure thing, boss." I hand her the tool, our fingers brushing.

"Thanks, Ry," she says, and there"s that spark, that jolt of electricity whenever we touch.

We work in rhythm, tightening bolts, aligning panels. Her laughter rings out when I fumble with the instructions, the paper flapping like a wild bird in my hands.

"Ever considered that maybe those are upside down?" she teases, grinning.

"Upside down, right side up—since when do cowboys need instructions anyway?" I retort, but I flip the page over, and suddenly it all makes sense.

"See? You"re not just a hat and boots," she nudges me playfully.

"Never claimed to be." I keep my tone light, but inside, a warmth is spreading. It"s not just from the Texas heat.

The structure takes shape, and soon, we"re standing back, admiring our handiwork. Jules wipes a bead of sweat from her brow, leaving a smudge of dirt in its place.

"Looks good," I say, pride swelling in my chest.

"Looks great," she corrects, her smile reaching her eyes.

"Thanks to you," I admit.

"Team effort," she insists, bumping her shoulder against mine.

"Hey, Jules?"

"Yeah?" She turns to me, curious.

"Ever thought that... maybe there"s more to life than what we"ve been chasing?" The words tumble out before I can stop them.

"Sometimes. Why do you ask?" Her voice is soft, inviting.

"Because I"m starting to think that maybe... just maybe, a relationship could work. With the right person." I hold her gaze, heart thumping louder than a stampede.

Her green eyes search mine, looking for something. Maybe it"s the truth hiding behind my gruff and lonely exterior. Or perhaps it"s the silent confession of a secret I'm tired of hiding.

"Maybe," she whispers, taking a step closer. "I could see it working with you, Ry."

And in that moment, surrounded by the beginnings of a greenhouse and the potential of something new, I let myself believe it might just be true.

The clink of glass bottles announces Parker"s arrival before I see him. He"s got that easy swagger, a six-pack of non-alcoholic beer in one hand – my concession to clear-headed evenings.

"Thought you could use a cold one," he says, eyeing the skeleton of the greenhouse we"ve built.

"Thanks, Park." I take a bottle, twist off the cap, and take a swig. It"s crisp, almost fooling me into thinking it"s the real deal.

"Julia over there?" Parker nods toward the sunflowers. These are already showing. We grabbed them at the nursery this morning as well. His eyes follow the figure moving with careful grace among the bright yellow blooms.

"Yep, she"s got a thing for sunflowers. She didn't want to wait for the pods to grow, so we picked up some that are already maturing," I reply, trying to sound indifferent but knowing my gaze betrays me, lingering on Jules as she tends to the flowers.

"Good choice," Parker says. "They"re like her—stand tall, face the sun, and they"ve got this... resilience."

"Resilience, huh?" I repeat, feeling the term resonate somewhere deep within me. It"s not just the sunflowers or even Jules; it"s the idea of starting something sturdy and beautiful from the ground up.

"Ry, you know I don"t meddle," Parker starts, which means he"s about to do just that. "But you two..." He trails off, tilting his head towards Julia and then back at me. "You"ve got something good sprouting here."

"Maybe," I concede, because as much as I want to put up walls, Parker has always seen through them.

"More than maybe," he insists with a knowing look. "Don"t mess it up."

"Wasn't planning on it," I say, watching Jules laugh at something, the sound carrying lightly on the breeze. It"s a sound I could get used to.

"Good." Parker claps me on the shoulder before settling down on the steps of the porch. "Because from where I"m standing, Ry, you"d be a fool to let her go."

I don"t respond to that, letting the silence between us fill with unspoken understanding. Instead, I focus on the warmth of the setting sun and the woman who might just be the sunshine breaking through my grumpy clouds.

I take another sip of my beer, its cool bitterness a contrast to the warmth spreading through me. Parker"s words echo in my head, and I can"t help but steal another glance at Julia.

"Bro, you"re not getting any younger," Parker says casually, though I know he"s been thinking on this for a while.

The corner of my mouth twitches upward. "Thanks for the reminder."

"And if you honestly want to die alone, here with your horses and wooden sticks, then that"s up to you." He leans back, stretching his legs out before him, eyeing me with a mix of humor and seriousness.

I let out a half-hearted grunt. Dying alone has never been the plan, but I"ve been good at avoiding anything that might resemble a plan when it comes to personal ties.

"However, that one right there." Parker nods subtly toward Julia without lifting his gaze from the horizon. His words hang in the air, heavy with implication and brotherly concern.

I follow his nod, watching as Julia gently pats down the earth around a sunflower. She"s diligent, attentive—cares about the roots she"s planting, just like she cares about her business, her life. It hits me then, how much I admire that about her, even as I"ve been holding back parts of myself.

"Point taken," I say quietly. The sun dips lower, casting an orange glow across the field. Something inside me shifts, something I"ve been holding onto tightly for too long. Maybe it"s time to let go.

Parker"s voice, mellow yet edged with mischief, cuts through the quiet. "She"s a good one. If you let her go, hell, I might try to go after her myself." He tilts his bottle toward Julia, winking at me over the rim.

I feel the heat rise in my chest, a mix of protectiveness and something wilder. My grip tightens on the cool glass bottle in my hand, condensation slick against my skin. That brother of mine knows exactly what buttons to push.

"Like hell you will," I shoot back, the words coming out sharper than I intend. I lock eyes with Parker, who's barely holding back a grin. He knows how to rile me up alright, always has.

"Then what are you waiting for, bro?" Parker nudges me with his elbow. "Go on, Ryan. Make your move before some other guy sweeps her off her feet."

I look back at Julia, her laughter floating across the yard as she stands and brushes dirt from her hands. Her smile is pure sunshine, and damn if I"m not ready to bask in it.

"If anyone"s going to have that woman, it"s gonna be me," I say, more to myself than to Parker. It"s a declaration, a promise I didn"t even know I was ready to make until this very moment.

"Then saddle up," Parker says, giving me a playful shove. "Time to ride into your own sunset."

He"s right. It"s time to step out of the shadows. Time to let Julia see the man behind the cowboy—the man who"s been hiding in plain sight. And maybe, just maybe, it"s time for a little less grumpy and a lot more sunshine in my life.

"Alright, enough with the metaphors," I grumble, but there"s a lightness in my chest that wasn"t there before. Parker's got a point. It"s time to come clean.

"Look, Ry," Parker leans in closer, his voice taking a serious turn now. "Julia needs to know who you really are. No more hiding, man. She deserves that much."

I nod slowly, knowing he"s right. Keeping my wealth a secret has become second nature, a protective measure against users and gold diggers. But Julia... She"s not like anyone else.

"Tell her who you actually are, what you've built, what you've accomplished," Parker continues. "That this," he gestures around us, "is you choosing a simpler life now. But Ryan, you can"t truly open your heart up, invite her into your world until she knows the truth. The whole truth."

"Damn it, Parker," I mutter. The thought of coming clean to Julia sends an unfamiliar thrill mixed with fear coursing through me. How will she react? Will she see me differently? But the bigger question is, can I bear losing her if she does?

"Think about it, Ry. If she"s the one, she"ll stay. And if she doesn"t..." Parker shrugs, leaving the sentence hanging, unsaid but understood.

"Then she was never mine to begin with." My voice is steady, but inside, my heart is racing. For once, the idea of vulnerability doesn"t seem so terrifying, not if it means having a chance at something real with Julia.

"Exactly," Parker says, clapping me on the shoulder. "Now go. I think those sunflowers need some expert advice."

"Since when do you care about gardening?" I shoot back, but I"m already pushing off from the porch railing, my gaze finding Julia once more.

"Since it gives my big brother a reason to talk to a beautiful woman without chickening out," Parker smirks, watching me take those first steps toward a truth I"ve kept buried for far too long.

"Keep it up, Parker, and you"ll be needing that beer bottle for more than drinking and pointing," I threaten half-heartedly, but there"s no bite in it. He chuckles, and I make my way across the yard to where Julia stands, the setting sun casting a warm glow over her red hair.

"Hey, Jules," I call out, my boots crunching on the gravel. She turns, green eyes bright, and my resolve solidifies. It"s now or never. Time to tell her everything.

"Ryan," she greets me with a smile that feels like home. "What's up?"

"Julia, we need to talk." My voice is earnest, filled with all the hope and fear of a man about to lay his soul bare.

"Sounds serious," she says, a playful note in her voice, but her eyes search mine for answers.

"It is. Tomorrow is your last full day here before you have to go home. Will you go out on a proper date with me tomorrow?" I ask.

"Yes, I'd love to," she answers with a wide smile.

Is it truly time to come clean? Is Julia one to trust with who I truly am?