“I will.”
“But when you slide off the road, when you get stuck in a ditch somewhere, don’t call me.”
The words hit like a physical blow.
I felt the air leave my lungs.
“What?”
“You heard me.” His voice was ice now. Controlled. Like he’d pulled all his walls back up and locked me out completely. “You want to be reckless? Go ahead. But don’t expect me to bail you out when it goes wrong.”
The kitchen door swung open.
“Morning, beautiful. Morning, grump—” Cade stopped short, taking in the scene. Dalton’s hands still gripping my arms. The tension thick enough to choke on. My eyes burning with tears I refused to let fall. “Whoa. What’s going on?”
Dalton released me and stepped back.
“Nothing,” he said, voice flat. “Amber was just leaving.”
“Leaving?” Cade looked at my suitcase by the door, then at Dalton, then back at me. “Leaving leaving? Or just for the weekend?”
“Just the weekend,” I said, proud that my voice didn’t shake. “To see my mother in Billings. I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Not if she gets herself killed on the roads,” Dalton muttered.
Cade’s eyebrows shot up. “Damn it, Dalton. What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Stay out of this.”
“I can’t. Not when you’re being an ass.” Cade moved further into the kitchen, positioning himself slightly between us. “She’s a grown woman visiting her sick mother. The storm’s not supposed to hit until tomorrow night. She’ll be fine.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Neither do you. But you don’t get to stop her from going.” Cade’s voice was gentle but firm. “And you definitely don’t get to say shit like don’t call me when it goes wrong. What the hell, man?”
Dalton’s jaw worked. He looked at me, and for a second, I saw regret flash across his face. “Amber—”
“Don’t.” I grabbed my suitcase. “You made yourself perfectly clear.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“Yes, you did.” I pulled on my coat, fingers fumbling with the buttons. “You meant every word. You always do.” I yanked open the door. Cold air rushed in, but I barely felt it. “I’ll be back Sunday afternoon. To finish the job. That’s it.”
“That’s not what I want—”
“I don’t care what you want.” I took a page out of his book and the words came out cold. Hard. “You told me not to call you. Fine. I won’t. I won’t call you, I won’t bother you, and when I get back, we’ll keep this strictly professional. Boss and employee. Nothing more.”
Something flashed in his eyes. Pain. Panic. But I was too hurt to care.
“Amber—”
“Goodbye, Dalton.”
I walked out and pulled the door shut behind me, cutting off whatever he was about to say.
The cold hit me immediately, but I welcomed it. Welcomed anything that might numb the ache in my chest.
I threw my suitcase in the passenger seat and climbed behind the wheel. My hands were shaking as I started the engine.
