That jaw tightens. Just a twitch, but I clock it.
“I figured you’d chicken out.”
I resist the urge to cross my arms like a mirror image. “I figured you’d have the place cleaned up a bit.”
“This ain’t the Ritz, sweetheart.”
“Yeah, well, this isn’t exactly how I pictured homecoming either.”
Behind me, Emmy barrels out of the car, tripping over her tiny boots as she runs full tilt across the gravel. “Horseys, Mama! I see horseys?”
Cash’s brows lift slightly. I see it, just a flicker, before he smothers it under his usual glare.
“This is your daughter?” he asks, voice low.
I nod, standing a little straighter. “Yep. Emmy. She’s five. And she’s staying.”
He looks at me, then at her, and then turns on his heel like the conversation’s over.
And just like that, I remember exactly why I hated this place, and why I’m going to make damn sure it’s mine.
Cash disappears into the barn like my presence is a busted fence post he plans to fix with a set of pliers and a bad attitude. The tension in his shoulders radiates all the way back to where I stand, dust clinging to my calves and temper already bubbling.
I follow him, because apparently I enjoy making bad decisions today.
The barn smells like cedar, hay, and sweat. It’s cleaner than I expected, which is irritating for reasons I don’t want to explore. He’s already at the far end, arms deep in something mechanical, pretending I don’t exist.
“Do you plan on ignoring me for the next 364 days or is this just a welcome special?” I ask, voice echoing across the space.
Cash doesn’t look up. “I didn’t ask for you to come here.”
“Yeah? Well, I didn’t ask to inherit a broken-down ranch and a walking bad mood, but here we are.”
He wipes his hands on a rag, finally meeting my gaze. His eyes are darker than I remember, stormy, unreadable.
“You don’t belong here, Avery.”
My spine goes ramrod straight. “Funny. The legal documents say otherwise.”
He tosses the rag onto a nearby shelf. “Your daddy loved this place. He built it up from nothing. He didn’t run off to the city every time it got hard.”
The comment hits low. He knows it. I know it. The barn goes silent except for the rhythmic thud of Emmy’s boots outside, startled chickens, and the distant call of a crow.
“You think I wanted to leave?” I whisper, suddenly furious. “You think I just packed my bags and forgot this place ever mattered?”
Cash shakes his head, slow and disappointed. “You never looked back, Ave. Not once.”
It stings more than it should’ve. More than I want it to.
I don’t realize I’ve stepped closer until we’re toe to toe, heat sparking between us like a live wire.
“Well, I’m here now,” I say, voice low. “And you can glower all you want, but I’m not going anywhere.”
His gaze drops to my mouth for half a second, a flicker, a fracture in the armor, and then it’s gone.
“You last a month,” he says flatly. “Tops.”
I lift my chin. “Wanna bet?”
