The evening air was cool, soft clouds stretching lazily across the fading sun. Catalina leaned back against Kerian’s shoulder, the sound of cicadas humming around them as they sat together on the porch swing. He had one arm around her, absently tracing circles on her arm while she stared out at the glowing horizon.
“I could get used to this,” she murmured, voice low and content.
“Used to what?” he asked, his tone warm and teasing.
“This.” She gestured lazily around them. “Quiet. Peace. You.”
Kerian smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Careful, KittyCat. You’ll make me think you like me.”
She laughed softly. “You wish.”
But she did. More than she wanted to admit, even to herself. What started as something secret and uncertain had turned into something deeper — the kind of connection that made her heart ache when they weren’t together.
Kerian looked down at her, studying the way the fading sunlight caught her face. He wanted to memorize every detail — the curve of her smile, the faint freckles across her nose, the way her laughter seemed to light everything around her.
And yet… something in him wouldn’t settle.
That familiar edge he’d long buried had begun to resurface — the quiet alertness, the subtle tension in his muscles, the way his eyes kept flicking toward every small sound in the distance. He hadn’t felt that kind of unease in years. Not since before the day he’d faked his own death.
He couldn’t explain it. It wasn’t just nerves — it was instinct. Something inside him whispered that the calm he’d found here wasn’t going to last much longer.
He tightened his arm around Catalina, pulling her closer. “You okay, baby?”
She nodded, though her mind was elsewhere.
“Yeah… just tired, I guess.”
He tilted her chin up gently. “You’ve been tired a lot lately.”
“I know.” She smiled faintly, trying to play it off. “Guess I’m just getting old.”
He chuckled, but the sound faded quickly. Her eyes looked softer tonight, maybe a little heavier. She was pale — not sickly, just worn down. He’d noticed it lately, the way her hands sometimes trembled when she thought no one was watching, or how she’d pause mid-sentence as if catching her breath.
He didn’t push. She’d tell him when she was ready.
But as she leaned into him, Kerian’s gaze drifted toward the tree line beyond the yard. For just a moment, he thought he saw movement — a shadow slipping between the trunks. His body tensed before his mind could catch up.
Old habits, he told himself, shaking his head. Probably just an animal. Still, his pulse stayed high long after the thought faded.
---
Later that night, Catalina sat in bed, notebook open across her lap. She’d been trying to write, but her focus was gone. Her stomach fluttered strangely, not unpleasant but unfamiliar. She put the pen down, pressing a hand to her middle as if the answer to every odd feeling might be there.
You’re fine, she told herself. Just tired. You’ve been pushing too hard again.
Still, a part of her wondered — could it be possible? After all this time?
She sighed, closing her notebook. “I’ll figure it out later,” she whispered to herself, turning off the lamp.
---
Miles away, the night was much darker. Erica Branson stared out the car window, the faint glow of highway signs flashing across her face. Jonathan drove in silence beside her, his jaw tight, eyes focused on the road ahead.
“You think he’ll even want to see me?” she asked quietly.
Jonathan glanced at her. “He will. Once he knows who you are.”
Erica smiled faintly, but it didn’t hide her nerves. “You say that like you’re sure.”
“I am.” He paused, then added, “Kerian doesn’t turn his back on family.”
There was something in his voice — loyalty, affection, maybe even guilt. Erica looked at him for a long moment. “You miss him.”
“Every day,” he admitted softly. “He saved my life more times than I can count. If he hadn’t faked his death, I’d probably be the one buried instead.”
Erica reached over, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “Then we’ll find him. We’ll bring him back.”
For the first time that night, Jonathan’s expression softened. “You always were too hopeful for your own good, you know that?”
“Maybe. But you need a little hope,” she teased lightly.
He smiled — small, genuine, the kind that reached his eyes. “Guess that’s why I like having you around.”
She blushed, quickly turning back to the window to hide it.
Neither of them said anything for a while, but the air between them shifted — warm, unspoken, and new.
As they turned down a dirt road leading deeper into the countryside, the GPS pinged. Jonathan checked the coordinates.
“This is it,” he said, voice suddenly tense. “We’re close.”
“How close?”
“Close enough to find him.”
But they weren’t the only ones who knew. A few miles behind, headlights glowed faintly through the trees — too dim to notice unless you were looking. The car trailed them silently, keeping its distance.
Inside, the driver spoke into a radio. “Target confirmed. They’re heading straight for him. Do we move in?”
A pause. Then a cold voice replied, “Not yet. Let them find him for us.”
---
And miles ahead, Kerian shot up from sleep, his pulse racing. The dream — no, the feeling — wouldn’t let go. He sat at the edge of the bed, every muscle on edge, scanning the darkness of his room as if waiting for something to reveal itself.
He didn’t know what was coming. Only that it was.
And this time, it wasn’t just his life on the line — it was Catalina’s, too.
YOU ARE READING
Curves For The Agent Cowboy
Storie d'amore"I'll be right back.. I need to go and find out what's taking Nick so long. I'm thirsty!" With that being said she ignored the scared look on Catalina's face and walked away. Catalina watched her go and when she turned back around she was surprised...
