On my way
I hauled the heavy bag off the bed. The wheels rumbled loudly against the old floorboards as I dragged it toward the door.
A wet nose suddenly pressed against my bare ankle. I looked down. Moose had followed me upstairs. He stood in the doorway, big brown eyes fixed on me, then rested his chin on the edge of the suitcase. His tail thumped against the floor.
"I'm sorry, buddy," I said.
He whined softly. Crouching, I buried my fingers in his thick fur, pressing my face into his warm neck for a moment, breathing in the smell of hay and dog.
I grabbed the handle and lugged the suitcase down the stairs, its plastic wheels thudding against every wooden step. It had barely hit the entryway floor when I heard boots cross the porch outside. The front door swung open.
Brock filled the frame, chest heaving as if he’d jogged straight from the barn. He was still in his thick canvas coat, bits of straw clinging to the sleeves. Then he saw the suitcase.
He went dead still. He dropped both gloves onto the entry table and stared, his broad shoulders tensing.
"What’s this?"
"Avery fired me," I said. "She’s probably calling Outlaw right now to try and pull your sponsorship."
From the kitchen down the hall, something sizzled faintly in a pan.
Brock didn't blink. "So."
"So I have to leave." Hot tears spilled over my cheeks. "You need to call Outlaw and tell them this was all my fault. That I got too close, and when Trent showed up… you lost your temper because of me. Maybe they’ll keep you if they think I’m the problem."
He closed the distance between us. "Are you out of your damn mind?"
"Please, I don’t want to ruin everything. I love you, and I can’t be the reason you lose your sponsorship."
The words hung there between us. I hadn't meant to say it like that—hadn't meant to say it at all—but there it was, and I couldn't take it back.
Brock stared at me for a long second. Then, he shoved the suitcase farther into the entryway, putting distance between it and the door.
"I don’t give a damn about Outlaw."
Before I could say anything, his hands cupped my face, thumbs brushing away my tears.
"I love you, Sienna."
He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"You really think I care more about a sponsorship than having you here?"
I shook my head. "No. But I want you to have the best chance at Vegas and get the ranch out of debt."
"You're not listening." He pulled me against his chest. "The debt isn’t going anywhere. It can wait. I’d rather do it slow than do it without you. I’m not losing you."
The fight drained out of me. I sagged into him, burying my face in his shirt. His strong arms wrapped tight around my body as he held me close.
"You’re not running from me, Starlin’," he said into my hair, his breath warm against my scalp. “I won’t let you.”
“I’m sorry.” My voice was muffled by his shirt. “I’m sorry for freaking out like this.”
A throat cleared behind us.
I froze.
Silas stood near the bottom of the stairs with Wren and Colt right behind him. They must have heard us and come down the hall.
