And she has no idea I've been in love with her since before I had any right to be.
I've watched her grow from Phantom's wild daughter into a woman who commands respect in a male-dominated field.
Watched her build her practice from nothing, earn the trust of every rancher within fifty miles, and become essential to this ranch and this community.
Watched her, wanted her, but kept my goddamn hands to myself.
But that ends tonight.
I watch her grab her vet bag from the truck bed—a heavy canvas thing stuffed with supplies—and that's when I see him.
Ford.
New prospect.
Twenty-two years old, dumb as a box of rocks, and eager to prove himself.
He's been hanging around the ranch for three weeks, doing grunt work and trying to earn his way into the club.
Mucking stalls, fixing fence, running errands for patched members.
Standard prospect shit.
And right now, he's jogging over to Grace's truck, all smiles and helpful energy, his boots kicking up dust.
"Dr. Dalton!" His voice carries across the driveway, that Oklahoma accent thick and friendly. "Let me get that for you."
He reaches for her bag.
She smiles at him.
My vision goes red.
It's not a flirtatious smile. Not even particularly warm. Just polite.
The kind of smile Grace gives everyone because she's sweet and kind and doesn't know how to be anything else.
The kind of smile that's gotten her in trouble before because men mistake kindness for interest.
But Ford doesn't know that.
He takes her smile as encouragement, steps too close, says something I can't hear that makes her laugh.
I'm moving before I realize I've made the decision, my boots heavy on the hardwood floor, hands already curling into fists.
"Shadow." Phantom's voice cuts through the haze, sharp and commanding. "Chairs. Back room. Now."
I force myself to turn away from the window.
Force my hands to unclench.
Force the jealous rage back down into the box where I've kept it locked for too damn long.
"On it," I manage, my voice rougher than it should be.
But I'm watching through the window as I walk, unable to stop myself.
Watching Ford carry Grace's bag up the porch steps.
