“Morning,” she said quietly, holding out a steaming mug.
I took it, set it down, and pulled her into me instead. I pressed a kiss to her forehead, breathing her in.
“Mornin’.”
“I couldn’t really sleep. My brain wouldn’t shut off.”
I rubbed her back. “I know. You were tossing all night. Come outside with me.”
She glanced out the window. “It’s freezing out there.”
“I’ll keep you warm. Come on.”
We grabbed our coffees and stepped out onto the front porch. The sun was fully up now, lighting up the mountains in the distance.
Sienna didn’t take the other chair. She stepped between my knees, turned around, and settled onto my lap. I wrapped my arms around her to block out the wind.
For a minute we just sat there, her back against my chest, sipping hot coffee in the cold morning air.
“I have to start sending emails,” she said. “If I can land even a couple freelance gigs by the end of the week, I might be able to cover Mara’s next tuition payment without using up my savings.”
“You don’t need to do that.”
“Brock… I appreciate the optimism, but optimism doesn’t pay the University of Illinois.”
“I got it covered.”
She went still. “I told you I couldn’t let you do that.”
I drained the last of my coffee and set the mug on the porch floor beside the rocker.
“I called Outlaw this morning. Told them that if you were fired, I’m not working with them anymore.”
“Why?” She twisted around to look at me, eyes wide. “Why would you do that?”
“Let me finish. I told him to drop the agency and pay me direct so you can stay on handling my stuff.”
She stared at me, her coffee mug suspended halfway to her mouth. “And they agreed?”
I looked down at her hopeful, exhausted face. If I told her about the ultimatum—that everything hinged on the first go-round—she would panic and blame herself. I swallowed the truth.
“Yeah. He wasn’t thrilled, but he agreed.” I brushed her hair back from her face. “Told him you’ll still be working with me from now on… but only if you want?—”
“Of course I want to. I want to stay here with you.”
A small smile tugged at my mouth. “That’s settled then. You’re free, Starlin’. You work for yourself now, just like me.”
She set her empty mug down on the porch floor. For a long moment she just looked out over the pastures, the horses moving along the fence line, the snow-capped mountains in the distance.
“But if we’re independent,” she said, “that means we can do whatever we want.”
I frowned. “I suppose.”
She turned fully in my lap so she was straddling my thighs, hands resting on my chest. Her brown eyes were bright.
“You don’t understand. Sponsorships are temporary. One bad fall and they’re gone. We need to build something that lasts.”
I shifted underneath her. “Like what?”
