Chapter 201

Chapter 201
The next morning. Breakfast at the ranch was supposed to be wholesome. Pancakes, bacon, coffee, the smell of fresh biscuits—heaven. Instead? It was pure hellfire.

Why? Because apparently, the asshole known as Nathaniel Lisbon had the audacity to waltz into my room at dawn like some bargain bin thief and “borrow” my iPhone charger while I was fast asleep. Did he think he was Robin Hood for iPhones? No. He was just a jerk with good hair.

And now? Half the household had seen him leaving my room in the early morning light. Which meant one thing: the entire breakfast table was buzzing like a gossiping henhouse.

I sat down, clutching my coffee mug like it was a weapon. Lara had this smirk plastered on her face so wide I was tempted to smack it off with a pancake. His mom kept humming to herself, way too cheerful. And the cousins? They were whispering behind their napkins like they were planning a roast, and guess what? I was the main course.

“So…” Lara drawled, stabbing her scrambled eggs with a little too much drama. “Did you two sleep well?”

I choked on my coffee. “EXCUSE ME?”

Maria—the cousin, not the maid—leaned in with wide, innocent eyes. “We saw Nathaniel coming out of your room this morning. At dawn.”

Cue a chorus of gasps and muffled laughter.

“HE STOLE MY CHARGER!” I snapped, pointing a dramatic finger at Nathaniel, who, by the way, was sitting across from me with the smuggest smile known to mankind. He even had the nerve to raise his mug at me like it was some kind of toast.

His mom chuckled into her napkin. “Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”

“I—WHAT—NO—MRS. LISBON!” My face was on fire. “It was literally my charger. For my phone. I was asleep. Dead asleep. I didn’t even know he was in my room!”

Nathaniel, the demon himself, leaned back in his chair, looking like he was about to win a damn award. “Well, darling, you looked so peaceful I didn’t want to wake you.”

The table exploded. Laughter, whistles, someone even clapped.

I slammed my fork down. “Don’t ‘darling’ me! You could have knocked. Or texted. Or—oh, I don’t know—NOT BROKEN INTO MY ROOM LIKE A BURGLAR.”

“Aw,” he smirked, tilting his head, “so you’re saying I should knock before sneaking into your room at night?”

I swear, if looks could kill, Nathaniel Lisbon would’ve been six feet under and buried in Texas dirt.

“PRETEND,” I muttered under my breath, stabbing my pancake like it had personally betrayed me. “We are pretending.This is all fake.”

But of course, the more I said it, the less anyone believed it. Especially not with the way Nathaniel kept smirking across the table like he owned me, body and soul.

And for the record? My lips may or may not have tingled every time he called me “darling.”



Breakfast ended with me stabbing my pancake like it had cheated on me. The entire Lisbon family was still smirking, still whispering, still giving each other those knowing looks. Meanwhile, Nathaniel was sitting there like a smug cat who just ate the fattest canary in Texas.

So when he leaned back in his chair, winked at me, and mouthed “darling” again across the table, I’d had enough.

I slapped my napkin down like it was a declaration of war and stood. “You. Outside. Now.”

The cousins gasped like they’d just witnessed a gun being drawn. Lara leaned back with her coffee, eyes sparkling. His mom actually crossed herself like she was about to pray for his soul. And Nathaniel? The bastard had the nerve to stretch, grin, and follow me like some cowboy swaggering into a saloon.

I stormed out onto the porch, fuming, ready to give him the tongue-lashing of his life. But of course, of course, when I turned around, the entire damn family had dragged their chairs to the balcony overlooking the yard. Coffee mugs, pancakes, forks—like it was brunch theater.

“Put your hands on my back, darling,” Nathaniel murmured low enough for just me to hear, his stupid smirk glued to his face. “The family’s watching.”

I whipped my head so fast I nearly sprained something. “I am not going to do that!”

“Come on.” He leaned closer, his cologne warm, his voice dripping with smugness. “It’ll make them shut up.”

I raised my hand, ready to smack his broad, annoying back, when my boot heel caught on the uneven porch step. “Oh shi—”

I slipped. Like, full dramatic movie slip, arms flailing, dignity flying out the window.

But Nathaniel was fast—too fast. His arm shot around my waist, pulling me against him just before I hit the ground. I crashed into his chest, breath knocked out of me, his hand firm on my hip, and—

And somehow, somehow—our lips collided.