6. Kody
CHAPTER 6
KODY
The morning air is crisp, sharp in a way that wakes you up before the coffee does. Tugging on my boots, I step out into the crisp morning air, the gravel crunching beneath my soles as I head down the drive toward the mailbox to get yesterday's mail. The sun has barely risen over the treetops, casting long shadows across the field, and for a moment everything feels normal.
Until I see the man standing by the gate.
He's wearing slacks and a windbreaker, holding a leather folder and looking entirely out of place in Mustang Mountain. He straightens the second he sees me coming.
"Kody Reed?" he asks, voice clipped.
My gut tightens. "Yeah?"
He nods, flips open the folder, and pulls out a thick envelope. "You've been served."
I stare at the papers as he places them in my hands. It’s as if he's handing me a grenade. No explanation, no apology. He just turns and walks back toward his car parked off to the side of the road, tires crunching against the gravel like punctuation as he drives off.
I don't move.
The envelope feels heavy in my hands. Heavier than it should. Like it already knows what's inside is about to knock the wind out of me.
And when I open it, it does exactly that.
Barely breathing, I glance at the paper. The second I see the header on the first document, my stomach drops.
Motion to Challenge Custody Agreement
Their names are all over it. Sadie's grandparents. Official legal language dressed up in cold ink, but it may as well be a knife to the chest. They're accusing me of fraud. Claiming I married Paige for legal gain. Calling the home I've built unstable and unfit.
And then I see Paige's name.
They've included a dossier on her. Every detail they could dig up or twist: her stay at the women's shelter, a statement from her ex filled with lies about her mental state, notes from medical reports cherry-picked to make her diabetes sound like a liability instead of what it really is—a manageable condition.
"They're coming after her now," I whisper, the words like ash in my mouth.
Not just me, not just Sadie, but now Paige.
I don't remember the walk back to the cabin, but once inside, I toss the envelope onto the table and start pacing like a caged animal while I wait for her to wake. My fists clench. I'm not just furious. I'm wrecked with the need to protect her and not knowing how to undo the damage that ink has already done.
When she finally shuffles into the kitchen, still in her sleep shirt, rubbing her eyes and blinking at me, I know I have to tell her. I can't hide this.
"There's something you need to see," I say, voice low, desperate not to wake Sadie just yet. I push the envelope across the table toward her.
She opens it, and I watch the color drain from her face with every page she reads. Her fingers tremble, and when she finally looks up at me, her expression is a mess of shame and fear.
"They're not wrong," she says quietly. "I don't have a job, I'm diabetic, and I lived in a shelter. On paper, I look exactly like what they're saying."
"No," I say, stepping forward. "On paper, they can write whatever they want. But I know the truth. You're kind, brilliant, and strong as hell. You're the woman who held my daughter when she had a nightmare and made her feel safe. You're the one who's fighting for Miss Ada like it's your own house on the line. And you're my wife."
She flinches at that, like she wasn't expecting to hear it. Maybe I wasn't expecting to say it.
But I mean it.
"They want a fight?" I continue. "They've got one."
She doesn't say anything for a long time. Just folds the documents back into the envelope and sets it aside with shaking hands. Her eyes are glossy, but she doesn't cry.
Instead, she whispers, "Okay. Then let's fight."
That's when we hear Sadie start to get up. We hide the papers and put on a smile for breakfast.
By midday, we're at Shane's ranch office with him while Caitlin watches Sadie at the main house. Also, Ruby is there, along with a lawyer she called in from Whitefish. He's sharp, calm, and already furious on our behalf. As soon as he flips through the motion, he grimaces.
"This lawyer representing them?" he says, tapping the letterhead. "He's connected to Densmore Holdings."
"That's the same people making deals with the elderly in town trying to take their houses from them. It’s the one Paige's been digging into," I say, and the realization lands like a punch to the ribs.
"What do you mean?” Ruby asks
We explain Paige’s conversation with Miss Ada and everything she’s uncovered with the digging she has been doing.
"It seems your research tipped them off. Guys like them have people watching who look into them. This isn't a custody hearing," Ruby says, her voice hard. "It's a hit job."
"They're trying to discredit her to undermine the land investigation," I add, my anger boiling. "And they're using Sadie to do it. Her grandparents would have jumped at the chance if these guys approached them."
Ruby wastes no time. "We'll get character statements. Orville, Courtney, every damn person in this town who knows what kind of mother Paige is to Sadie. Even if she doesn't have the official title."
"They want to make this about what's on paper?" Ruby adds, eyes flashing. "Let's remind them who really knows these people."
There's something powerful in the way the room moves—how quickly everyone falls into step. I've never been part of something like that before. Not really. Not until this town. Not until her.
By the time we get home, the sun's starting to dip behind the hills. The shadows stretch long across the grass, and the golden light turns everything soft and quiet. But there's a tension in the air, like a storm waiting just past the horizon.
After tucking Sadie into bed for the night, I find Paige sitting on the front porch, knees pulled up to her chest, eyes lost somewhere in the trees. I sit beside her without a word.
She speaks first, her voice barely above a whisper. "If you want to pull out of this... marriage thing... I'll understand. You could tell the court it was just paperwork. No harm, no foul."
I turn toward her, voice firm. "I don't want out."
She blinks, surprised. "You don't?"
I shake my head slowly. "I don't want to lose Sadie. And I don't want to lose you, either."
She stares at me like she's trying to make sense of what I just said. Like it doesn't compute.
And then, softly, "Why?"
I don't have a grand answer. Just the truth.
"Because somewhere along the way, this stopped feeling like a deal. And started feeling like a life I don't want to give up."
She doesn't say anything. Doesn't need to.
She leans into me, her head resting on my shoulder, and I wrap my arm around her without hesitation, pulling her in like she belongs there.
Because she does.
Eventually, we go inside. She walks ahead of me, barefoot, wearing one of my shirts that hangs off her shoulder. I don't know when it started to drive me crazy. Maybe the first night she wore it. But now, watching her move through our space like she owns part of it, like it's hers too... it undoes me.
When she turns around in the bedroom, I don't wait. I cross the space between us and kiss her.
It's not soft this time. It's not cautious. It's hungry.
Her hands fist in my shirt as I back her toward the bed, mouths colliding, bodies already flushed and pressed too close to be innocent. I lift her onto the mattress and crawl over her, my fingers brushing up her thighs, pausing just long enough to make her breath hitch.
"Tell me to stop," I murmur against her throat, lips ghosting over the sensitive spot beneath her jaw. "And I will."
She answers by arching into me, dragging my shirt over my head with shaky hands. "Don't stop."
Clothes fall away piece by piece until there's nothing between us. My hands roam her body, reverent and aching, learning every line, every sound she makes. She's beautiful. Strong. The soft curve of her hips, the tremble in her thighs, the way her back arches when I kiss just beneath her ribs. I want to memorize every inch of her.
I slide down her body, kissing across her stomach, down her hips, and when I press my mouth between her thighs, she gasps my name like a prayer. Her fingers tangle in my hair, her legs tighten around my shoulders as I lick her clit slowly. She may be getting the pleasure, but in this moment, it's all for me, getting to taste how sweet she is, and I don't stop until she's shaking beneath me, moaning as her orgasm takes over her.
When I crawl back up, her eyes are glassy, cheeks flushed, lips parted. I kiss her again, slow and deep this time. She pulls me into her like we're made to fit—like she needs me inside her as much as I need to be there. Even though my cock aches, I don't want to rush this either.
Reaching for my wallet on the nightstand, I pull out the condom Shane tossed at me the other day like a joke, though I'm thankful for it now. I hurry to slide it on now, not wanting any more space between us than needed. When she pulls me back to her, I lock my eyes with hers and savor the connection there.
"Kody," she moans my name, almost pleading.
I line my cock up at her entrance and slowly push in. We both moan as I stretch her, making her pussy strangle me. We move together, slowly at first. My hand cups the back of her neck as our foreheads touch, our breathing syncs. The world narrows to just this—her sighs, the rasp of my name on her lips, the feel of her body pulling me deeper.
She feels too good, too tight. I want this to last all night, but she feels too good. So I reach between us and stroke her clit, because there is no way I'm coming before she does. Her nails dig into my back, her heels press into my thighs, and I can feel her holding back.
"Eyes on me," I whisper. "Don't hide from me. Not tonight."
Her eyes lock on mine, and she lets go.
Her release hits hard, loud, her body shaking as she clings to me. I follow her, my orgasm ripping through me like lightning, my arms tightening around her as we come undone together.
After, we collapse in a tangle of limbs, sweaty and breathless. I dispose of the condom and then pull her close, cradling her head to my chest, still trying to catch my breath. Her fingers trail lazy circles along my ribs.
"You okay?" I ask, brushing damp hair from her face.
She nods against me, voice soft and shaky. "More than okay."
We stay like that, skin to skin, until sleep steals her away. I stay awake a little longer, watching her breathe.
She's not just the woman I married to win a custody battle.
She's the woman I'd fight the whole damn world to keep.