Candy has Emma tonight. We have a few hours that belong only to us. I’m not wasting them worrying. I tuck her closer and let the weight of her anchor me to this bed and this room and this choice.
I don’t say the words out loud. Instead, I hold her and admit it to myself in the dark. I am in love with her. Not with the idea of her. Not with the fight.With her. With the woman who tells me the hard thing, even when her voice shakes. With the mother who counts the cost and still laughs when her girl wins a small victory. With the quiet person in my arms who is not trying to be anything, except be here.
Morning will come. There will be calls to make and lines to hold and brothers to face and men in suits who think a ranch is only dirt with a price tag. That’s fine. I was born for the heavy work. I can carry weight.
Tonight, I carry her. I press my mouth to her hair and close my eyes and let the truth settle. I am not asking for promises. But I’m making one. If she lets me, I will keep her safe and the ground under her steady. I will give her coffee, quiet, and a place to land.
She sighs in her sleep and turns toward me, one knee hooking over my leg, careless and sure. It knocks the last of the air from my chest. I smile into the dark like a fool and hold on.
Chapter 21
Kassi
Warmth envelops me first—his body curved against mine, arm heavy across my waist, breath steady on my shoulder. For a moment, I wonder if I dreamed last night, him carrying me down the hall, our bodies finding each other in the dark.
Then I shift, and his hold tightens. His palm spreads against my stomach, anchoring me to the bed.
I blink into the dim light. Through half-drawn curtains, morning slips in—soft gold bars across rumpled sheets.
Keeping myself still, I lie with my cheek pressed to the pillow that smells like him. Leather, sandalwood, and clean soap. It's a dangerous kind of comfort, the sort that makes a woman think she could belong here.
Though I mean to slip out of bed before he wakes, his lips touch the back of my neck, light, testing. My breath catches before I can stop it.
"Asher," I whisper, not sure if it's a protest or a prayer.
His lips press firmer against my skin, trailing to the sensitive spot where my neck meets my shoulder. A rush of heat floods my body, pooling low in my belly where his fingers now trace lazy circles.
"Morning," he murmurs, voice rough with sleep, the vibration of his words against my skin sending shivers down my spine.
I should leave. I should make some excuse about needing coffee or checking my phone. Instead, I find myself arching back against him, my body betraying what my mind knows is smart.
"I didn't think you'd still be here," he says, nuzzling my hair aside to access more of my neck.
"I didn't plan to be," I admit, my voice sounding foreign to my own ears—too breathless, too wanting.
"You sleep okay?" he asks, lips moving to that sensitive spot below my ear.
"Better than I have in months," I admit, the confession slipping out before I can catch it.
He hums, pleased, the vibration of his chest against my back making me melt. His fingers continue their lazy exploration between my thighs, finding me already soaked for him.
"Jesus," he breathes. "Already?"
I turn my face into the pillow, embarrassed by how readily my body responds to him. But he grasps my chin, turns my head until I meet his eyes—dark blue in the morning light, pupils blown wide.
"Don't hide from me," he says. "Not after last night."
The memory of last night crashes over me. Heat crawls up my neck, and I know he can see it in the flush spreading across my chest.
"What we did..." I start, but the words tangle on my tongue when his thumb rubs over my clit. My thoughts dissolve into nothing as he increases the pressure, circling slowly. I bite back a moan, my hips moving against his hand without permission.
"What we did was fucking incredible," he finishes for me, his voice dropping to that gravelly register that makes my stomach clench. "And I want to do it again. Right now."
His other hand slides up to cup my breast, thumb brushing over my nipple until it peaks. The dual sensations make my back bow, pressing me harder against the solid warmth of his chest.
"You're so fucking responsive," he murmurs, his breath hot on my neck. "Makes me want to keep you in this bed all day, see how many times I can make you come apart."
My pulse hammers against my throat. I can hear the ranch coming alive. Anyone could hear.