“Well, their loss is my gain,” he says simply.
We eat in comfortable silence for a while, the day’s exhaustion catching up to both of us. It’s strange how natural this feels, sharing a meal with him in his home.
“Thank you,” he says as he finishes his plate. “For cooking.”
“Thank you for letting me stay here,” I counter. “For keeping me safe.”
His eyes meet mine across the table, serious and intent. “I’ll always keep you safe, Atlee. As long as you want me to.”
There’s a promise in those words that makes my breath catch. We’re dancing around something here, something bigger than just attraction or convenience.
“I should probably do these dishes,” I say, not knowing how to respond to the intensity of the moment.
He stands, taking his plate to the sink. “We’ll do them together.”
And so we do, side by side at the sink, me washing while he dries. It’s such a simple, domestic thing, but it feels significant somehow. Like we’re building something, one small moment at a time.
When we’re done, he takes my hand, his callused fingers wrapping around mine. “Come on,” he says, leading me toward the living room. “Let’s rest for a bit.”
He sits on the couch and pulls me down beside him, his arm going around my shoulders as I curl against his side. Outside, the last light of day is fading, painting the mountains in shades of purple and blue.
“This is nice,” I whisper, afraid to break the spell of contentment that’s settled over us.
His fingers trace lazy patterns on my shoulder. “Yeah,” he agrees, his voice a rumble I can feel through his chest. “It is.”
I tilt my head up to look at him, finding his eyes already on me. There’s a question there, one I’m not sure either of us is ready to answer yet. But for now, this is enough—his armsaround me, the quiet of the evening, and the knowledge that whatever comes next, we’ll face it together.
EIGHT
DEVLIN
I wasn’t expectingAtlee to cook me dinner and wasn’t expecting to enjoy it as much as I did. I’ve never met a woman who is as intriguing as she is. Although she’s so much younger than I am, she seems to have the same type of life experience I do. She’s wise beyond her years and compliments me more than anyone else ever has.
When I came home from the military, I came home to a shit show. I’d purposely ignored home after my parents died and left everything here for Jesse to deal with. It wasn’t exactly my finest hour, and I had been so mad when I realized what he was doing to make sure the ranch stayed afloat.
At first, I was completely against the cattle rustling operation, and I wanted to go completely legit.
We’d argued, and he’d thrown my absence back in my face. It hadn’t been the only thing that had been thrown back in my face, either. My high school girlfriend had moved on too, although we’d never actually broken up. But then again, I’d never made her a priority either.
The story of my life—letting everything fall to the wayside while I stay stuck in my own world.
Which is why I’ve decided to be more present, no matter how difficult it is in the grand scheme of things, and why I’m trying to be the man I believe Atlee deserves.
“I need a shower.” I yawn as I stretch. “While it’s nice lying here with you, tomorrow morning is going to come early. I have a TV in the bedroom. Wanna watch something after I take a shower?”
She nods, her eyes meeting mine. There’s heat in her gaze. “Mind if I join you?”
We have to be careful. This relationship can’t be built on the physical, but I want to be close to her like that, so I nod.
My throat goes dry as she stands up, stretching her arms above her head. The way her body moves makes my pulse quicken. I’ve been with women before, but never one who affects me like she does, who makes my skin feel too tight for my body with just a look.
“Lead the way,” she says with a soft smile that’s equal parts shy and bold, her eyes heating.
I push myself up off the couch, acutely aware of how small this cabin suddenly feels. When I first built it, it actually felt too big. Taking her hand, I guide her toward the bathroom, my mind racing with thoughts I shouldn’t be having. She’s been through hell, is still processing a traumatic experience, and here I am thinking about getting her naked.
But I’m not the one who suggested the shower, a voice in my head reminds me. She is.
Still, I need to be careful. This can’t just be about physical release, not with her. Atlee deserves better than that, and I’m not entirely sure I’m capable of giving her what she needs.
