Page 109 of Ironwood Ranch Cowboys

There’s more than me here, I can sense it. Years of history and hierarchy and old habits shifting under pressure, and apparently I’m the spark tonight. Fantastic.

Silas’s expression goes glacial. “You took her off this property without saying a word to anyone.”

“She needed air.”

“You don’t decide that alone. I thought we discussed this.”

Oh shit. What did I miss?

Duke lets out a short, disbelieving laugh. “Pretty sure Annie decides what Annie needs.”

Oh, I shouldn’t enjoy that as much as I do. But I really, really do.

Silas hears it too.

His eyes cut to me again, and for one split second emotion flares there that is absolutely not just anger. Possessiveness. Jealousy. It’s dark enough to make my pulse trip and my temper surge harder in the same instant.

Which is insane.

All of this is insane.

“I’m standing right here,” I bark. “You can stop talking about me like I’m a scheduling conflict.”

Silas says, “Fine. You want direct? Here it is. I don’t want you dating Duke.”

The room goes dead still, and then my anger goes nuclear. I think I actually see white around the edges.

“You don’t want…” I repeat, then laugh once because otherwise I might throw something. “That is genuinely unbelievable.”

“Annie—” Duke starts.

“No.” I hold up a hand without taking my eyes off Silas. “No, he can hear this too. Whether I date Duke,” I say, every word honed to a blade, “is none of your business.”

“It becomes my business when it affects this house.”

I stare at him. Then I say, softly and with real disgust, “You really do think everything here belongs to you, don’t you?”

Silas goes still in a way that would terrify smarter people. “I think this ranch survives because people follow rules.”

“And I think you hide behind ‘rules’ whenever your feelings get inconvenient.”

For one heartbeat, nobody moves.

Then a voice from the doorway says, “I leave for ten minutes and apparently miss the collapse of civilization.”

I turn.

Of course.

Of course it’s Cody.

He’s standing in the open office door in dark jeans and a henley, glasses in one hand like he took them off halfway through approaching this disaster and already regretted bothering.

His gaze flicks across the room in quick, cutting assessment. Silas furious, Duke braced, me somewhere between murder and meltdown, and I can practically see him categorizing the damage in real time.

“This isn’t any of your business,” Silas says.

Cody arches a brow. “That would be more convincing if you weren’t conducting this business at a volume audible from the main house.”