CHAPTER SIX
Amber
I came downstairs Saturday morning with my suitcase in hand, keys already in my pocket, ready to hit the road before the sun was fully up. I was going to see my mother, which was a good idea, considering what had happened between me and Dalton.
I needed to screw my head back on straight and keep my eye on the prize—a job well done. Not the hot rancher who had kissed me senseless in his living room.
As he’d pointed out, it was a mistake.
It was barely daylight outside, but the kitchen light was on.
Of course it was.
So much for my stealthy escape.
Dalton stood at the counter, coffee mug halfway to his lips, and froze when he saw me. His eyes dropped to the suitcase. Then back to my face.
“What’s that?” His voice was too calm. Too controlled.
“My bag.” I set it down by the door and crossed to the coffee pot, trying to keep my tone light. Normal. “I’m heading out to see my mom. Remember? I mentioned it earlier this week.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Yes, I did. On Monday. I said I was taking the weekend to visit her.”
His jaw tightened. “You said you wanted to visit her. I said no.”
Heat flooded through me—anger mixed with disbelief. “You said the weather might be bad. The forecast is clear until Sunday night. I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon.”
“The weather can change on a dime.” He set his mug down with deliberate control. “You’re not going.”
I stared at him. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. The storm’s supposed to move in Sunday. The roads will be bad. You’re staying here.”
I took a breath, trying to stay calm. “I haven’t seen my mother in two weeks. I need to check on her.”
“Call her.”
“It’s not the same.”
“Too bad. You’re not driving in a storm.” He crossed his arms, and I recognized that stance. Immovable. Stubborn. Completely unreasonable.
“I’ll leave early tomorrow and be back before it gets bad.”
“No.”
The single word—flat and final—made something snap inside me.
“I’m not asking for permission,” I said, voice sharp and crisp. “I’m telling you I’m going. It’s my weekend off. My mother needs me. And I’m a grown woman who can make her own decisions about when and where I drive.”
“Not when those decisions are reckless and stupid.”
My hands curled into fists. “Reckless and stupid? I’m visiting my sick mother.”
“You’re driving two hours into a storm because you’re too stubborn to wait one damn day.”
“There. Is. No. Storm.” I enunciated each word carefully. “Not until Sunday night. I will be back before then.”
“You don’t know that. Weather changes fast in the mountains. You should know that.” Instead of his voice rising, it got deeper. More controlled if that were even possible. “One wrong turn, one patch of ice, and you could slide off the road. Get stuck. Freeze before anyone finds you.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“You don’t know that.”
“And you don’t get to tell me what to do.” The words burst out of me, louder than I’d intended. “You’re my boss, Dalton. Not my father. Not my keeper. And certainly not—”
I stopped myself before I said boyfriend. Before I acknowledged what had happened by the fire. What we were both pretending hadn’t happened.
“Not what?”
“Nothing. Forget it.”
He moved then, coming around the island in three long strides. I held my ground even though every instinct screamed at me to step back. To put distance between us.
He stopped close enough that I had to tilt my head back to meet his eyes. Close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off him. Smell that scent of soap and leather and something uniquely Dalton.
“Not what, Amber?” he repeated.
“Move.”
“Finish the sentence.”
“No.” I shoved against his chest. He didn’t budge. Might as well have been pushing against a brick wall. “Get out of my way.”
“You’re not going.”
“Watch me.”
His hands shot out and gripped my upper arms. Not hard enough to hurt. Just firm enough to hold me in place. To make me look at him.
“She left on a day just like this.” The words came out flat. Empty.
I ached with sympathy for him. I placed my hand on his chest. His heart was beating faster than it should have been. “I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories, Dalton.”
His grip tightened fractionally.
“I’m coming back,” I continued quietly. “I’m just visiting my mother. Two days. Then I’ll be back to finish the job.”
Those words only seemed to console him a little. Was it the knowledge that I was only here temporarily? I knew it was breaking something inside me. Was that why he’d pushed me away?
“I’m not Sarah. And I’m not going to pay for what she did to you.”
If possible, his face closed off even more. “That’s not—” He drew in a deep breath. “You shouldn’t drive in this weather.”
“Well, the weather isn’t here yet, now is it?”
“Damn it, Amber. I’m just trying to keep you safe.” He looked angry enough to shake me. Had I finally broken through some of that icy control?
Oh, how I wished it had happened that night. Then maybe we’d be having a totally different conversation today. Despite the looming storm, I knew I had to get away from him for a few days. And I wanted to see my mother. I knew my aunt was taking care of her, but seeing her in person was different.
I shook my head at him. “No, you’re not trying to keep me safe. If I’ve learned anything about you, it’s that you like being in control. Every aspect of your life.” I tossed my head. “Well, guess what? I’m not yours to control.”
His face went hard. Cold. “You want to go? Fine. Go.”
“I will.”
“But when you slide off the road, when you get stuck in a ditch somewhere, don’t call me.”
The words hit like a physical blow.
I felt the air leave my lungs.
“What?”
“You heard me.” His voice was ice now. Controlled. Like he’d pulled all his walls back up and locked me out completely. “You want to be reckless? Go ahead. But don’t expect me to bail you out when it goes wrong.”
The kitchen door swung open.
“Morning, beautiful. Morning, grump—” Cade stopped short, taking in the scene. Dalton’s hands still gripping my arms. The tension thick enough to choke on. My eyes burning with tears I refused to let fall. “Whoa. What’s going on?”
Dalton released me and stepped back.
“Nothing,” he said, voice flat. “Amber was just leaving.”
“Leaving?” Cade looked at my suitcase by the door, then at Dalton, then back at me. “Leaving leaving? Or just for the weekend?”
“Just the weekend,” I said, proud that my voice didn’t shake. “To see my mother in Billings. I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Not if she gets herself killed on the roads,” Dalton muttered.
Cade’s eyebrows shot up. “Damn it, Dalton. What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Stay out of this.”
“I can’t. Not when you’re being an ass.” Cade moved further into the kitchen, positioning himself slightly between us. “She’s a grown woman visiting her sick mother. The storm’s not supposed to hit until tomorrow night. She’ll be fine.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Neither do you. But you don’t get to stop her from going.” Cade’s voice was gentle but firm. “And you definitely don’t get to say shit like don’t call me when it goes wrong. What the hell, man?”
Dalton’s jaw worked. He looked at me, and for a second, I saw regret flash across his face. “Amber—”
“Don’t.” I grabbed my suitcase. “You made yourself perfectly clear.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“Yes, you did.” I pulled on my coat, fingers fumbling with the buttons. “You meant every word. You always do.” I yanked open the door. Cold air rushed in, but I barely felt it. “I’ll be back Sunday afternoon. To finish the job. That’s it.”
“That’s not what I want—”
“I don’t care what you want.” I took a page out of his book and the words came out cold. Hard. “You told me not to call you. Fine. I won’t. I won’t call you, I won’t bother you, and when I get back, we’ll keep this strictly professional. Boss and employee. Nothing more.”
Something flashed in his eyes. Pain. Panic. But I was too hurt to care.
“Amber—”
“Goodbye, Dalton.”
I walked out and pulled the door shut behind me, cutting off whatever he was about to say.
The cold hit me immediately, but I welcomed it. Welcomed anything that might numb the ache in my chest.
I threw my suitcase in the passenger seat and climbed behind the wheel. My hands were shaking as I started the engine.
Don’t call me when it goes wrong.
The words echoed in my head.
Fine. I wouldn’t.
I pressed the gas pedal and watched the ranch disappear in my rearview mirror.
Watched everything I’d started to hope for fade into the distance.