Best Friend's Ex Box Set

Bright morning light peeked in through the curtains when I woke after a strange and deep sleep. The smell of smoke was still thick in the air. I could smell it everywhere—on my bedsheets, my clothes, and my skin. It was still there.

Hot grief rolled in waves over me. The sights, smells, and sounds from the night before flashed before me—the barn ablaze with blue and orange flames, the smell of burned timbers, the terrified look in the eyes of the horses, the sounds, those horrible sounds. And Colt, pulling me from the barn before it all gave way and quietly taking care of things as I sat there numbly, unable to move. It was all too much to think about, and I squeezed my eyes shut, willing those horrible images to go away.

The house was silent. It was quiet outside, too. I had no idea if Colt was still even around. I last saw him when he came in and told me to go to bed. I couldn’t even bear to look at the barn after the fire department had shown up. There wasn’t anything left to see besides wet and charred wood.

My hands throbbed from being curled in fists all night. I sat up with a hiss to look down at them, the gauze pads soaked from the oozing blisters. Dark smudges covered my bed sheets. I would have to wash everything later, and it was a good enough excuse to avoid going outside. Except I needed to feed the horses, plus they needed water. They needed comfort too. They weren’t the only ones.

Tears flooded my eyes. What was I going to do now? My parents would be furious to know the little money I had saved up was gone. Up in smoke within a matter of minutes. They would demand justice, and they’d drive down here in a heartbeat to tell me it was all some stupid dream of mine. I could just hear it. “Oh, Cheyenne. You’re just so sensitive. If you could save the whole world, you would do it.”

I had nothing left now that the sanctuary barn was gone, and my gut blamed it on Bill Coates. That sense of dread had followed me for the past two days. This isn’t over.

I cinched the belt of the robe securely around my waist before stripping the bed down. Ignoring the pain that shot up through my hands, I bundled everything together to throw it into the laundry room downstairs. I had reached the bottom stairs when the sound of snoring caught me off guard. Passed out on my living room couch, with his long legs propped up on my coffee table in front of him, Colt was fast asleep.

The pit of my stomach did that flutter thing again as I lingered on the bottom step, well aware of the fact that I had soot on my skin and unwashed hair. Go figure that a man like Colt would see me at my worst. My eyes were puffy and bloodshot from crying all night, but Colt was also the reason I felt this way. In that moment of clarity, I realized I was alive because of him.

I set the pile of soot-covered bed sheets and blankets on the ground next to the stairs. Colt’s chiseled face was utterly peaceful and relaxed, his blond hair a tousled mess. His cowboy hat was perched on the couch cushions next to him. Though he slept, his muscles were coiled and taut, ready for action at a moment’s notice. Rushing into the fire hadn’t even phased him. He was just as fearless as his sister.

And so handsome. Damn. My cheeks burned at the direction of my thoughts. Any woman would kill to wake up with Colt asleep on their couch clutching his gun—ready, willing, and oh so able to protect them at any sign of danger.

A rush of heat crashed over me, making my skin feel tight against my bones. It’d been too long since I had last felt the touch of a man, and my body craved that comfort.

The sound of my phone ringing from the kitchen startled the both of us. Colt jerked awake, his fingers curling tighter around his gun. His eyes immediately shot to where I stood at the base of the stairs.

“You better get that,” he said, his voice husky with sleep. “It’s probably Tiffany wondering if you’re okay. Everyone in Green Point probably knows about the fire by now. Maybe even your parents.”

I tightened the belt of my robe nervously. “It’s probably Tiffany. My parents wouldn’t have any idea about it unless I told them.”

Colt gave me a strange look as I rushed out of the living room to answer the phone ringing madly on the wall. “I’m fine, Tif. I’m not hurt, I promise.”

“Thank God. I was so worried when I heard. How bad is it?”

“Bad,” I told her, tears filling my eyes. “I can’t even look at it, Tif. The stallion—he’s gone. I couldn’t get him out of the stall, and then it all crashed in.”

Tiffany breathed sharply into the phone. “Oh, honey. I’m coming over to help you. I’ll be there in an hour.”

“Your brother is here,” I said. “He was the one who woke me. He pulled me out of the barn last night before it collapsed. If he hadn’t come, we—we would’ve lost everyone, Tif. And maybe me too.”

“What have I been telling you, huh? My brother is a good man to have around! Tell him I’ll bring him some fresh clothes.”

I hung the phone up and started a pot of coffee. The sound of boots thumping against the floorboards drew my attention to Colt entering the kitchen. His expression was grave when he looked out the kitchen window. I turned away to hide the tears in my eyes when he glanced over at me with one hand resting above the window.

“It’s bad, isn’t it?” I asked, my voice quivering. “I know it’s bad, but I’ve been scared to look.”

“There’s nothing left, Cheyenne. I’m sorry.”

I sucked in a wavering breath. “Are the rest of the horses okay?”

“I was able to put them into a pasture last night, figuring nothing would settle them down more than to be able to graze on some good grass,” Colt said. “It was dark of course, but it didn’t look like they were burned or hurt. They were spooked badly of course, but they are happy to be grazing in the pasture. We’ll want to check them over in the light of day though, and probably tie up the ones we can handle and see if we can repair or rig up some paddocks today. You’re not going to want to leave all of them in that pasture.”

“I don’t have any oats or hay for them. Everything was in the barn. All my tack and—”

“I’ll take care of all that for you,” Colt interrupted, as I turned around to give him a surprised look. “I’m serious. I’ll donate supplies if you’re protesting about me buying anything. We have more than enough at the ranch.”

“Are you sure?”

He gave an affirmative nod. A surge of gratitude flowed through me, and I would have hugged him on the spot if his phone hadn’t started ringing. Colt glanced down at it in annoyance before giving me an apologetic smile.

“Excuse me. I’ve got to take this call real quick.”