Love in the Dust: A Cowboy's Second Chance with a City Girl

Under your skin

The next day, I made it to school early, preparing for class. I let out a breath, trying to push away the left-over tension from last night. Chandler was always in my head, messing with my focus. I needed to think about my work, not the way he looked at me, not the way he spoke, and definitely not the way he made me feel.

Unlocking my classroom door, I flicked on the lights and stepped inside. The familiar scent of paint and clay filled the air dancing around in space, filling my nose. I set up brushes and canvases, making sure everything was in its place.

Art was my escape, the one place where I could control everything. I needed that now more than ever, something to keep my thoughts away from him and whatever simmered between us every time we were in the same room.

Just as I was starting to feel at ease, I heard footsteps in the hallway. My heart stalled, and I knew it was him before he even appeared. His footsteps so sure.

I kept my back to the door, pretending to be engrossed in my work, but I felt him the moment he appeared at the doorway. He leaned against the frame, casually filing the space with ease.

"Morning, Margaret," Chandler's voice slid through the room, smooth and knowing, like he already had me figured out. He tips his hat. His bright smile is looking at me.


I turned, keeping my expression neutral, even though every nerve in my body was aware of him. "Morning, Chandler," I replied, my tone as steady as I could make it. I wasn't about to give him more.

His eyes took a slow tour of the room before landing on me, his gaze a weight I felt deep in my chest. "You're here early. Everything okay?"

I nodded, holding a paintbrush a little too tight. "Just getting a head start," I attempt to say flatly, though my voice comes out with a tremor.

Chandler pushed off the doorframe, stepping into the room, closing the distance between us. "You are always so dedicated," he said with a chuckle. His eyebrows arching a bit, and his voice dipping lower, "But you didn't really answer me."

"What? I wondered. His words were prying. "I did. I'm fine."

He shook his head with an amused smile playing on his lips. "You answered the question I asked you. Not the one we both know I meant." He stepped closer to me, my space filling with his cologne; his gaze was fixed on me, and I felt something—something that made my heart race.

My breath hitched. "And what question was that?"

Chandler tilted his head slightly, his eyes searching mine. "Are you okay after last night?"

His question catches me off guard. I hadn't expected him to bring it up, not here. Not now. I opened my mouth to answer, but nothing came out.

He took another step, his voice dropping to a murmur. "I wasn't trying to get under your skin, Margaret. But I can't seem to help myself." His eyes darkened ever so slightly.

I shook my head, trying to break free from the pull he had on me. "This isn't the place for that kind of talk," I said, my voice firmer, even though my resolve was slipping. "We're at school. We have jobs to do."

Chandler's smile predatory. "You're right," he said, his eyes told a different story. "But that doesn't change anything. I'll see you after school."

The warning bell rang, and before I could respond, Chandler turned on his heel and left.

Leaving me deliberately.

Students started coming in, and I started  class;but our conversation kept replaying in my head. I knew this wasn't over. Whatever this was between us, it was only just beginning, and I didn't know how much longer I could keep pretending it didn't exist.

The day dragged on, each minute slower than the last. Every time the door opened, I braced myself, half-expecting Chandler to walk in, even though I knew he wouldn't. His classroom was right across the hall. The thought of seeing him again was leaving me on edge.

When the last bell rang. I packed up, but I knew I couldn't avoid him forever. The school emptied out, quiet, just like it had been this morning. I heard the faint echo of a basketball in the gym and the occasional murmur from the front office, but otherwise, it was just me and the inevitable.

I thought of leaving and acting like nothing has happened. To stay and face this.

Before I could make a move, there was a knock at the door. My breath caught, and I turned to see Chandler standing in the doorway, his broad frame filling the space. He didn't say anything; he just watched me, his eyes unreadable, as if waiting to see what I'd do.

I swallowed hard. "You're here," I said, more to myself than to him.

He nodded, stepping into the room, closing the door behind him. "Told you I would be."

Silence stretched between us, thick and charged, making my skin tingle and my heart race. He took a a slow steps toward me, his eyes locked on mine making me unable to move, to think.

"I've been thinking about you all day," he said quietly, his voice low and rough, full of things I didn't want to admit I felt too. He would have to try harder than this. "About last night... and this morning."

"I tried to focus on work,"  his says voice sounding fixed. Almost like he was annoyed.

he takes another step. His eyes dark and possessive, "but every time I closed my eyes, all I could see was you."

I didn't know what to say or if I should say anything at all. So I didn't say anything I let his words hang between us, feeling the weight of us in every inch of the room.

Chandler stopped just a few feet away, close enough that I could feel the heat of him and smell the faint, intoxicating scent of his cologne. It made my head swim.

"I meant what I said," he murmured. "I wasn't trying to get under your skin, but I can't help it."