He nods once. “Then don’t make her regret trusting you.”
There’s no challenge in his tone. He loves her and wants to protect her and I can only respect that.
He turns to leave, then pauses with his hand on the door. “Delta doesn’t need perfect,” he says. “She needs stability, if you’re going to show up for her, show up all the way.” He walks out without waiting for a response.
I stand there for a second, letting his words settle, he’s right, Delta deserves stability. She deserves everything and I want to be the man who can give that to her. Not some obscure day in the future but now. I grab a bag of feed and haul it to the pallet. I almost told another man I love her. The truth is I’m all in, whether I say it out loud yet, or not.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Delta
The lantern glowssoft and gold against the canvas, turning the inside of the tent into a warm little world that feels a hundred miles away from everything else. The ranch sounds are all but non-existent out here.
I kick off my boots just inside the flap and wiggle my toes in my socks, laughing under my breath as I straighten up. “I still can’t believe you convinced me to sleep on the ground when I own an entire house with a perfectly good bed.”
Trace drops the cooler by the door and looks up at me like I just said the funniest thing he’s heard all day. “You didn’t complain when I brought you out here this afternoon,” he says, taking in the blankets I already spread out, two thick sleeping bags unzipped and layered with quilts, extra pillows, and a couple of old crocheted throws. “You said, and I quote, ‘This is cozy as hell.’”
“I also said I reserve the right to change my mind if anything crawls,” I remind him.
He grins, slow and warm, as he straightens. “I told you, I’ll handle the crawling things.”
“You better,” I say.
He watches me for a second, “Come here,” he says quietly.
I step over the cooler, careful not to kick it, and close the distance between us, his hands find my hips. His mouth meets mine and every thought I had scatters. His lips move over mine, unhurried and confident, like he has all night and I am the only thing he plans to focus on.
I press closer, my hands sliding up to curl around the back of his neck. He makes a low sound in his chest when my body lines up against his, one that goes straight through me and settles low in my belly. His fingers tighten on my hips, then glide back, palms spanning the curve of my ass as he pulls me in.
Heat pours through me in a way that feels heavy and light at the same time. The kiss deepens, turns hungry, his tongue slides against mine and my knees go soft; his hands hold me up like he knew that was coming too.
“Trace,” I breathe against his mouth.
“Yeah, baby,” he says, and the word curls around something warm inside me.
“You’re not sleeping on your side of this tent,” I tell him. “Just so we’re clear.”
He huffs out a laugh, forehead pressed to mine. “Good, because I have no intention of sleeping anywhere but next to you and I definitely wasn’t planning on us sleeping much.”
The bluntness of it sends a flush up my throat. “Arrogant.”
“Oh for sure! You and your body knows who it belongs to,” he corrects, then kisses me again, softer this time. “Tell me what you want.”
I swallow, heart pounding. He means it; that’s the thing about him, he always means it.
“I want you,” I say simply. “Here, with me, all of it. I want you in my bed and in my space and in my life, and if we’re going to fuck this up, I’d rather it be because we tried too hard than because we were scared.”
He stares at me like I’ve just handed him something holy. His jaw flexes. “You sure?”
“Yes.” My voice doesn’t even shake. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life that wasn’t a horse or this ranch.”
His relief is almost comical. “I love you,” he says, automatic and raw, then freezes like he didn’t mean to say it out loud.
“Say it again,” I whisper.
He swallows. “I love you.”
“Good,” I say, feeling my chest ache in the best way. “Because I love you too. And I’d very much like to have sex with my man now, if that’s okay with you.”
