Page 65 of Unruly

Exhaustion pulls at me as I tidy up the house, rinsing my coffee cup from that morning. Cash sees me like a fixed point in chaos, and tonight showed the fractures of how we aren’t going to work—his pain, my caution.

I check on him one more time before I try to sleep. The pale light is already creeping through the blinds when I ease the bedroom door open. Cash is out cold, one arm flung across the pillow, the other hanging off the side of the bed. His face is softer now than I’ve ever seen it—mouth slack, lashes dark against his flushed cheeks.

I pull the blanket higher over his chest, fingers grazing his forehead. He stirs, murmuring my name, and warmth blooms despite everything.

The couch is lumpy and the throw blanket smells like the bar, but I curl up on it anyway, too wired to sleep and too tired to fight it. Cash’s words from earlier keep circling in my head like smoke I can’t wave away.

Maybe we aren’t meant to be.

My heart is open in the worst possible way—raw and stupid and still beating for a man ten years younger who doesn’t know how to be careful with it.

HALLE

My motorcycle’s roar dies as I kill the engine in the wide gravel lot beside the main house at Thornwood Ranch. Dust settles around me in the late afternoon light, and I pull off my helmet, shaking out my hair.

Aunt Aria texted me earlier this morning about coming out to Thornwood Ranch for a family dinner, since Colt was going back to school next week, and I couldn’t say no. Not with Ben’s loss still fresh and Colt leaving so soon. I want to make sure Rhett knows I’m there, too.

The crisp evening air carries hints of hay and distant woodsmoke from someone’s burn pile, wrapping around me like a familiar embrace.

I’ve kept my distance the past couple of weeks since I brought Cash home. He slipped out the next morning before I even woke up. Since then, it’s been nothing but short, awkward texts and quick, avoided glances the couple of times we’ve crossed paths.

Climbing the steps, the wooden boards creaking under my weight, I then push through the front door.

The kitchen smells like heaven—roast beef, fresh cornbread, green beans simmering with bacon. Tierney and Aunt Aria dive into hugs and start chatting immediately, pulling dishes from the oven while Eli and Rhett talk cattle prices by the window. Colt stands at the head of the long oak table, setting out plates with mechanical precision, his jaw tight. Dawson and Makai lounge nearby, talking quietly, but their conversation dies quickly when Cash enters from the back door.

His jeans are stained with grass and dirt, flannel rolled to his elbows, hair damp from a rushed shower. He grabs a beer from the fridge without a word to anyone, twisting the cap off with his teeth. His eyes flick to me for a split second—something raw there, or regret, maybe—before he looks away.

Once all of the dishes are pulled out, we settle around the table, plates loaded, the clink of silverware filling the space where conversation should be. Colt sits beside me, bumping my knee under the table like old times, trying to lighten things. “Remember when Ben caught me trying to free the cows? I called you in a panic, thinking he’d skin me alive, but instead, he sat me down and explained what this ranch does and how it treats its cattle.”

Tierney smiles, though her eyes glisten. “He had a way of teaching without breaking you. I can’t believe it’s almost been a month since he’s been gone.”

Murmurs of agreement ripple around. Eli shares a story about Ben, and how he brought Tierney into the fold before he realized she was meant to be his wife, then Luke makes a joke about how the two hated each other when they first met.

But Cash stays quiet, fork stabbing at his food more than he’s actually eating it. He’s being an asshat, grunting responses, ignoring questions, scrolling his phone when anyone tries to include him.

Dawson tried once, asking about fence repairs on the north pasture, and Cash just shrugs. “Handled it.”

The tension builds like a pressure cooker, and I catch Rhett watching his brother, brow furrowed. This is Colt’s last weekend before the new semester starts, and instead of the easy camaraderie we usually have, Cash is shutting everyone out.

“Pass the cornbread?” I ask, reaching across the table. Cash’s hand brushes mine as he hands it over, and electricity jumps between us, but he pulls back fast, like I burned him.

I dismiss the rejection, trying to keep the fragile peace we’ve built at the table.

“So, Halle, how’s the divorce? I know with everything going on we haven’t really checked in. Is it almost over?” Tierney asks.

I clear my throat, setting my fork down. “Well, not exactly … He shredded a copy of the divorce agreement and mailed it to me with a signed, intact copy. I might have asked for easy, but Zach isn’t seeing it that way. My lawyer called me today to let me know we should have a court date within the next month or so.”

Aria turns to me, eyes narrowing. “That asshole. When was this? Why didn’t you say anything?” she questions.

The words get stuck in the back of my throat.

“I got them the same day … And it just didn’t seem like the right time.”

Rhett clears his throat, setting his glass down hard enough to make the silverware jump, as he sets his sights on Cash. “We need to talk about the east herd. Cash, you were supposed to help rotate them yesterday. When I checked today, they were still in that same field.”

Eli tenses, noticing the slight animosity between his boys.

Cash leans back in his chair, beer bottle dangling from his fingers. “Did it just before dinner, not that you bothered checking with me before trying to call me out in front of everyone, asshole.”