He pulls me into his chest, and the world falls quiet. I can feel his heartbeat under my ear, strong, steady. My fingers curl in the fabric of his shirt.
"I'm not losing this land," he says against my hair. "Not to them. Not to anyone."
I tilt my face up to him, and the air shifts between us. The heat that's always there when he looks at me flares—wild, unguarded. His thumb grazes my cheek, and the way his breath catches makes my stomach twist.
"Asher," I whisper.
He looks down at me, and for a moment, the rest of the world disappears.
The papers. The danger. The noise. It all fades until there's just the two of us standing in the dust and sunlight, too close to think straight.
Then he leans in. Close enough that I can feel the warmth of his breath on my skin. My body goes still, waiting.
It would be so easy to close the space between us. To let the fear burn into something that feels alive instead of terrifying.
But he stops himself first.
His hand slips from my cheek to my shoulder, the weight of it grounding me. His voice is rough when he speaks. "We can't do this now."
I nod, but the word still hangs heavy between us.
He steps back, dragging in a ragged breath. "Come inside. We'll make copies of what you've got."
"I don't want to put you in more danger," I say.
He shakes his head. "You already did the hard part. You told the truth. That's what matters."
I follow him into the house, my legs shaky, my throat raw. The scent of coffee and hay and sun-warmed wood wraps around me with familiarity. He spreads the papers on the kitchen table, eyes scanning every line.
"They've got survey marks along the east boundary," he mutters. "Same as where Cade saw the trucks. They're testing the depth on the runoff line. They think they can tie that into the mineral track."
He looks up, his expression tight. "This is enough for Ben to open a formal case. You just gave us the lever we needed."
Relief hits so hard it almost knocks me backward. "You can stop them?"
"We can slow them down," he says. "That's all we need for now."
Dropping into the chair across from him, I’m suddenly exhausted. "I didn't think they'd actually go through with it. I thought it was over."
He sets a hand on the table between us, palm up. I stare at it for a second before I slide mine into his. His fingers close around mine, callused and sure.
"You did everything right," he says quietly. "You just walked into the lion's den and came out with proof."
"I was terrified," I admit.
"So was I," he says. "Until you showed up."
For a second, neither of us breathes.
The moment stretches thin. His thumb moves over my knuckles, slow and deliberate, and it feels like my pulse is right there in his hand.
Then he exhales, letting go. The absence of his touch makes my hand cold again.
"I'll take these to Ben in the morning," he says, gathering the papers.
I help him stack the papers and tuck them into a folder. When we're done, he looks at me again, eyes dark, unreadable.
"I meant it," he says. "You did good, Kassi."