By the time we’re done, the sun’s dipping lower, painting everything gold.
One of Baron’s hands leads us out to guest cabin number four—small, neat, set a little apart from the main traffic of the ranch.
Private.
Exactly what I want.
I drop our bags inside first.
It’s a single.
One bed.
One bath.
Good.
I turn back to her.
“You take the first shower,” I say.
Her lips twitch.
“Wow. Such a gentleman.”
“Don’t get used to it.”
She laughs softly and heads inside.
I give her a few minutes.
Five.
Maybe ten.
Long enough to hear the water kick on.
Long enough to picture exactly what’s happening in there.
Fuck.
I drag a hand down my face, pacing once across the small porch.
“This is a bad idea,” I mutter.
And I know it is.
Because everything between us is still a mess.
Still unresolved.
Still sitting on a knife’s edge.
But I also know—I’m not stopping this.
Not again.
Not when I’ve got her this close.
