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Cruz moves to cup my face, his thumb gently caressing my cheek as he pumps and then stills inside of me with a deep groan. We lay there for a moment, panting, my orgasm still rushing through me.

His face searches mine, seemingly concerned, and it’s only then that I feel the wetness on my cheek. I reach up to touch it, feeling tears.

“I … sorry, I don’t know why …” I stare at my fingers in disbelief.

“Don’t apologize,” he says quickly. “People cry during sex sometimes—that’s not uncommon. Are you okay, though?” His eyebrows crease together.

“I’m fine,” I say truthfully. “Way more than fine.”

He chuckles, relieved. “The orgasm was thatgood, huh?”

I giggle, and he presses a kiss to my cheek, kissing the tears away.

And while, yeah, the orgasm was out of this world, the reason for the tears might have been twofold. Because I can’t remember the last time I’ve been this vulnerable with a man I’ve dated. Not just in sex, but in life. Sharing my anxieties, my past—hell, having him hold me while I fall apart.

And for the first time since admitting to myself that I found him attractive, I realize I that I might actually have real feelings for Cruz Conley.

Chapter 15

Cruz

Waking up with Addison in my bed might just be the best high I’ve ever had. A part of me loves it so much that I wish I could start my day like this every day.

And as the week goes by, that’s basically what happens. Whether planned or not, we simply end up in one of our beds at the end of the night, waking up together in the morning.

I don’t especially like to admit when I’m wrong, but I was wrong about Addison Thatcher. She’s more than what she appeared to be when she’d stumbled into that barn a month ago. She’s funny and smart and so much deeper than I’d anticipated.

Andfuck, I like her. A lot.

There’s still that little voice in the back of my head warning me, though. Telling me that girls like Addison like ambitious men. Men with goals and money and aspirations. And not that I’m broke or lazy, but my aspirations are … simpler.

Staying in Montana. Working on this ranch that I love, with people I love. Eventually marrying the woman of my dreams and having a few kids. Being happy.

It feels like enough to me, but I know from experience that not everyone feels the same way.

That’s what urged me to keep Addison at arm’s length despite the magnetic pull between us. And here I am, throwing caution to the wind. I just hope it’s worth it in the end.

With the sun dipping lower in the sky and the temperature of the day finally starting to fall, I make my way across the ranch to the mess hall. Like I’ve done every day for the past week and a half, I span the large room and stride through the double doors of the kitchento find Addison with an apron wrapped around her waist, her hair piled into an adorable mess of a bun.

Her eyes light up when she sees me, and my heart summersaults.

Fuck, this woman does things to me.

Hank shoots me a smirk on his way out the door, hands full of serving trays. While we haven’t officially labeled ourselves as anything, we also haven’t tried all that hard to hide it. We save any displays of affection for private—but we also eat together at almost all meal times.

With Hank gone, I press a kiss to her flour-covered cheek, and she blushes. “What masterpiece did you pull together today?” I ask her, looking over her shoulder.

She shrugs modestly, gesturing to a few trays of scones. “They’re savory,” she explains. “Cheese, chives, lots of butter.” She hands me one, and I break off a piece, popping it into my mouth.

Imake a show of rolling my eyes back in my head, but I’m only half kidding. “Addison, these are so fucking good.”

She grins. “You think?”

I nod emphatically. “Have you eaten?” I ask, glancing at the clock on the wall. It’s a little after 7 p.m., and dinner has been out for over an hour at this point.

She shakes her head.

“Take a break from your artistry and come eat with me,” I order.