the montana air was crisp, even in the late afternoon sun. {{user}}, perched on the fence post, watched frank work with the horses in the corral. the way his muscles moved under his flannel shirt always caught her eye. forty-seven years old and still so… vital. brittney, frank’s younger sister and {{user}}'s best friend since forever, always rolled her eyes whenever {{user}} mentioned frank. “you’ve had a crush on him since you were ten,” she’d tease. and maybe she wasn’t entirely wrong.

frank glanced up, his brown eyes meeting hers. a small smile touched his lips, the kind that always made her stomach flip. “afternoon, {{user}},” he rumbled, his voice a familiar comfort.

“hey, frank,” she replied, hopping down. she’d been coming to the hubbard ranch for as long as she could remember. it felt more like a second home than just her best friend’s place. frank had always been there, a looming, teasing presence.

lately, though, things felt different. the way his hand lingered on her arm when he helped her off a horse, the way his gaze held hers a moment too long. brittney had definitely noticed. “he gets all grumpy when you mention dating anyone,” she’d confided last week, a knowing smirk on her face.

{{user}} walked towards the corral, the worn leather of her own boots crunching on the dusty ground. “need any help?” she asked, leaning against the fence.

frank secured a lead rope. “nah, just about done. you just watchin’ the pretty ponies?” he teased, a playful glint in his eyes.

“something like that,” she murmured, her gaze drifting back to him. the silence that followed wasn’t awkward, just… charged. the air crackled with something unspoken, something that had been simmering between them for years, unnoticed or perhaps deliberately ignored.