I angled my body slightly in front of hers, a silent claim and warning all in one.
“She’s staying with me,” I said, my voice leaving no room for argument.
No one challenged me.
The tension eased slightly, and then one of the younger guys leaned back in his chair, his tone deliberately lighter as he addressed Sara directly. “You do know why we call him Dice, right?” He grinned, more curious than cruel. “And you’re still willing to stay with him?”
Sara blinked, caught off guard. “Uh… should I be worried?”
A couple of the men chuckled low, the sound warm rather than mocking.
The first guy smirked. “Let’s just say… you’re about to find out.”
Sara’s cheeks flushed, and she glanced up at me, confused but intrigued.
“Keep walking,” I muttered, but a corner of my mouth ticked upward.
Behind us, the soft laughter rolled back into the quiet shuffle of cards, leaving just enough levity for Sara to breathe easier.
At the end of the hall, I opened the door to my room and flicked on the light. It wasn’t much, just a bed, a dresser, a couple pairs of boots and hats tossed carelessly in the corner. Pretty standard cowboy fare.
But then there were the other things.
Dragons lined the top of the dresser, hand-painted miniatures arranged in a battle formation. Dice bags. A stack of well-worn rulebooks. A Dungeons & Dragons campaign binder sitting half-open on the nightstand.
I tensed, waiting for the teasing or the awkward silence. But when I looked at Sara, she wasn’t laughing. She wasn’t judging. Her gaze softened, a small smile tugging at her lips as she took it all in.
“It’s… you,” she said finally, her voice warm and sure. “I like it. It’s… real. Comfortable.”
Something unknotted in my chest at those words. For a moment, I let myself breathe.
“Glad you think so,” I said roughly, moving to the dresser to grab a clean T-shirt. “Here, you can shower and change into this. The bathroom’s right through there.”
Her fingers brushed mine when she took it, a spark of heat flaring through the cold lingering on her skin. She gave me a grateful look before disappearing into the bathroom and closing the door behind her.
The second she was out of sight, the guys at the table pounced.
“Dice, man,” one of them called down the hall, his voice full of mock disbelief. “You didn’t tell us you had a girl hiding out in that storm. About time you brought someone home.”
“Not my girl,” I growled, rubbing the back of my neck.
“Oh, sure,” another one shot back, laughing. “That’s what they all say. Next thing we know, you’ll be shacking up permanent and asking Jacob to build you a house next spring.”
“Knock it off,” I snapped, sharper than I intended. The laughter dimmed, but I didn’t care. They didn’t understand. Hell, I barely did. All I knew was that Sara wasn’t just some random woman I’d rescued. She was… more. It was like fate had dragged her back to me, daring me to fight for her this time. That high school crush had turned into something fierce and undeniable, a need that burned in my veins, and I was already imagining how it would feel to finally have her close, to taste her lips and claim every part of her.
The bathroom door clicked open.
Sara stepped out, steam curling behind her, her wet hair hanging in loose, dark waves around her shoulders. My T-shirt swallowed her frame, soft cotton clinging to damp skin in a way that sent every coherent thought scattering.
I froze.
In that instant, I knew.
This wasn’t chance. It wasn’t some storm throwing us together for a night.
Sara was mine.
CHAPTER 5
