The question lingers, weighty and real. I swallow hard, fingers brushing his chest. "Because for the first time in a long time, I feel like I’m not running."
He exhales like he’s been holding his breath. "I want to be someone you don’t have to run from."
I meet his eyes, and for once, I don’t look away. "Then stop pretending you don’t care. Because I know you do. And I do, too. Probably more than I should."
His brow furrows, and I see the war inside him, between the guy who keeps his guard up and the man lying next to me now, who let it down. "I’ve never brought anyone here before. Not like this."
That softens something deep in me. I press a kiss to his collarbone. "Me either."
He shifts, pulling the blanket tighter around us, the quiet stretching between us in a way that feels comforting, not empty.
"What happens tomorrow?" I ask.
He brushes his lips against my hair. "We keep moving forward and get this place to be our home. Like always. But maybe this time, we don’t do it alone."
I close my eyes, letting the warmth of his arms and the truth in his words lull me into the kind of peace I haven’t known in years. Whatever happens next, tonight was real. And for now, that’s enough.
Just as I start to catch my breath, lulled by the steady rise and fall of his chest and the low thrum of night sounds outside, I hear the sound of little feet running our direction, then the car doors slamming shut with Emma running towards the barn door and opens it with a squeal.
“Mommy?”
By this time we have some clothes on, not all of them but presentable.
Standing just inside the doorway, is Emmy, holding a half-squished stuffed horse under one arm and rubbing her eyes with the other.
“Oh my God,” I whisper, as we are scrambling to pull more clothes on. “Emmy, what are you doing out here?”
She blinks at us, clearly unfazed. “I had to show you the ribbon I won for tossing the ball at the bottles. I heard you guys wrestling in here so I came this way to find you.”
I groan and bury my face in Cash’s shoulder while he tries, and fails, to stifle a laugh.
“Hey, peanut,” he says, voice gentle. “You scared us.”
Emmy walks forward and plops herself right on top of the blanket at our feet. Were you guys fighting?
“No, baby,” I say, already dreading the conversation I’m going to have with Harper later. “Just… surprised.”
Cash leans down and scoops her up like she weighs nothing, settling her on his lap. “Want to stay out here with us a little while?”
She nods sleepily, tired out from the big night she has had and snuggles in without hesitation.
I glance at him, and he shrugs like this is totally normal, me still half-naked with a blanket, him shirtless, and a five-year-old wedged between us in a pile of hay.
“Well,” I say under my breath, “so much for a quiet night.”
Cash grins. “Still worth it.”
Emmy yawns and blinks up at us, then squints suspiciously. “Why were you and Cash wrestling with no shirts on?”
I freeze. Cash coughs into his hand.
“Uh, we weren’t wrestling, honey,” I say quickly.
She tilts her head, unconvinced. “It looked like kissing and rolling around. That’s what wrestling is when grown-ups do it, right?”
Cash tries to smother a laugh and fails miserably. “Not exactly,” he mutters.
Emmy looks between us, completely serious. “Are you his girlfriend now? Because if you are, does that mean I have to call him Dad?”
