Her Cowboy

Chapter 38

This morning was giving me flashbacks of the "this is the definition of tension, when you let intrusive thoughts win and kiss your summer crush literally minutes after he broke up with his long-time girlfriend" vibes.

Except worse.

And with so many more people around to witness.

I was antsy, hopping back on forth on each foot and jumping at every noise near me in the barn. After the costume designers and Piper had slapped on me a pair of boot-cut Levis, an outrageously expensive pair of cowboy boots they had to manually scuff off to look old, and completed the look with your most basic flannel, Piper had to practically drag me out to the barn. I made a beeline to Bessie and stood by his side, brushing out his coat over and over until Aphrodite would be here and we'd start.

Poseidon had come into the barn, and smiled at me, a little too knowingly. I averted my gaze quickly.

More cast and crew members started to fill the barn. We were shooting in here today, just a few scenes with mostly dialogue. Just as I was realizing I should probably be rehearsing my lines because my mind was all over the place this morning, Aphrodite finally arrived, her bedazzled pink denim jacket sparkling in the morning light spilling into the barn.

Luke was right behind her, dressed in his own pair of denim jeans with a big denim jacket thrown over his shoulders. A cowboy hat sat on his head, sweeping his beach blonde hair to the side under it. He fit the part, even though I thought he looked kind of ridiculous.

Kronos was right behind him, and I felt my stomach grow cold in his presence. His eyes lingered on me for a moment but showed nothing telling he might have seen me this morning.

Aphrodite was already barking out commands as she walked down the tightly packed dirt floor to where I stood with Piper. She paused as someone new entered the area, a dark-haired boy exiting the tack room.

He had an old green t-shirt on—one I'd fallen asleep in many times this past summer—with a beat up jacket on that I knew used to belong to his dad. His hair was still a mess, but the kind of effortless wind-tossed hair that I'd seen costume designers spend hours trying to recreate. His hands held a worn leather saddle.

But upon finding everyone looking at him, he paused, bright green eyes quickly scanning the room.

They found mine almost instantly. His gaze held mine like a sunset—I couldn't take my eyes away, and it knocked out my breath at the emotions they were drawing out of me.

Then he looked away, and the breath whooshed out.

He found Luke. The actor had paused, wariness floating in his posture as he looked Percy up and down, trying to hide his surprise at seeing him. Looks like I wasn't the only one unaware of his presence.

Luke gave him a short, forced nod. Percy stared at him for a moment longer, then looked toward Aphrodite.

The director had frozen in her steps, eyeing Percy like the newest pink fluffy scarf in the catalogue.

"Well, who is this?"

I swear I could hear her long eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks.

Percy inhaled deeply, then effortlessly slung the saddle over a stall door, brushing his hands off on his jacket as he approached Aphrodite. He held out a tanned hand to her, dipping his head.

"Percy Jackson, ma'am."

She cocked an eyebrow, taking his hand gracefully. "The rancher's son?"

He nodded, his eyes straying behind her to meet mine once more, then going back to her. "Just here to help my dad out while the other ranch hands are gone."