36. Storm
I don’t remember sitting down on the couch. I know it was some time after I left Max’s room. Where I’d laid with him for a few minutes, watching him sleep, wondering if a small part of him knew. If he was afraid to ask because Silas was there.
More than anyone, I owe that little guy an explanation. I just don’t know when . . . or how. He’s been so patient. Like he never needed to know. But he does. I know he does.
It’s past one. I’m exhausted. Mentally drained. Instead, I’m staring at the dark outside my living-room window. My pulse hasn’t slowed. My mind is out of control.
I should go to bed. Silas said he’ll be back and I know he meant it. But I couldn’t blame him if he decided he wasn’t ready. Hell, I’m not sure if I am.
Car lights flash outside the window and I gasp. My heart skips before continuing to thud hard against my chest.
A moment later the lock turns and the door opens as Silas lets himself in. His eyes sweep the dark space before finding me on the couch, the lamp on the side table behind me turned low.
I lift slightly but he puts up a hand. “Don’t get up.”
I relax against the cushions as he sets my keys down, sheds his jacket, and starts to unbutton that crisp white shirt he had on today.
He must pick up on the chill, because he raises the thermostat before approaching me on the couch. Bending his knees to me.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
He frowns. “Don’t be. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I didn’t tell you.”
His chuckle is light. “Can’t blame you.” He strokes my hair. “I’m sorry I walked out on you when you needed me.”
There’s something behind his eyes that, even in the dark, is clear as day to me.
“You’re still mad.”
He doesn’t deny it. His eyes drop for a brief second before meeting my eyes again. “Yeah, I uh . . . turns out I might need a little more than a minute.” He huffs a laugh and there’s almost an apology behind it.
It’s unfair. Unfair for me to expect him to accept this today and move on.
A tear falls loose and I swipe it away. “Silas, you don’t have to explain. I wouldn’t have blamed you for . . . well if you needed space from us.”
His eyes darken.
“I’d miss you, but . . .” I nod so he knows how much I trust him, “. . . I know you’ll be back.”
His eyes gleam between the hurt. Blinking, he reaches into his pocket and swipes his phone before setting it on my lap. “Read that.”
I frown. “It’s our texts from earlier.”
He watches me as I read the last exchange.
Silas: I’m coming over?
Storm: Too presumptuous?
Silas: No such thing. I’ll be there.
I lift my gaze to his and he sets aside his phone. My heart exploding with love for this man.
“I’ve spent the last few weeks here trying to convince you I’m not going anywhere. That you can trust me. Depend on me.” He strokes my jaw. “Not to abandon you when things get a little . . . hard.”
“Silas—”
“I love you, Storm,” he breathes. “I couldn’t wait to get home to you tonight after that painful game to tell you that. Because between good days and bad, you’ll always be the good. My constant, my biggest win.”
I sniffle and he pulls me up, wrapping his arms around me. It’s all I’ve wanted to feel all night.
“I love you too,” I whisper against his chest.
He backs me up to look at me. A cocky smirk on his face as he winks. “I know. You loved me first, remember?”
I shrug. “So what if I did? I was always better at everything than you.”
He shakes his head, his expression warm. “Not at this you won’t be.”
My stomach bubbles but I can still feel the anger simmering in him. He’s stiff, jaw tight even as he tries to contain it. I bite my bottom lip, my eyes feeling heavy. “Can we go to bed now?”
He inhales deeply, then steps back to grab his duffle bag. “You go ahead. I need a shower first.”
I take my chances here. “I can join you.” I press my palm against his abs.
He grins, gripping my wrist and setting it down. “Nice try.”
I purse my lips. “Is this our first fight?”
“Course not. It’s like our fortieth.” He kisses the tip of my nose. “Be right out, Bumble Bee.”
My shoulders fall as he disappears into the bathroom.
Silas is right. He needs more time. He doesn’t blame me—he said so himself. It’s the situation I need him to forgive. To accept.
The same one that took me years to.
His shower seems to last forever—either that or I’m too exhausted, or too blissfully content to stay awake and wait for him. Because regardless of how long it takes us to get past this, Silas loves me and I have to believe that’s all we need.
I groan from the light invading my bedroom. It can’t be morning. I slept like . . . four minutes. But man, it was the deepest four minutes I’ve ever slept. I knocked out cold last night.
I twist into Silas’s chest. His arm a welcome weight around me and it feels like neither of us have moved all night.
I stroke his arm, his lashes fluttering, and he looks comically grumpy. He grunts and closes his eyes. Then snaps them open. “Am I dreaming or did you tell me you loved me last night?”
I shove against his chest. “You told me you loved me first.”
He shuts them again with a yawn, abandoning this conversation. “I did no such thing.”
I laugh. “Did too. And I’ll remember it forever.”
His eyes open wide and he flips me back onto the bed, hovering over me. “You’d better.”
I lift my head to kiss him, but he backs up, teasing me, like I’m still being punished for something.
“Silas!”
He presses his lips to mine briefly. “That should hold you.”
“You jerk. I’ll start crying,” I warn.
His face falls. “You wouldn’t dare.”
Closing my eyes, I inhale deep, biting down a giggle.
But his lips crash over mine in a hard, deep, claiming kiss.
I feel everything in this kiss, possession, love, a hint of anger, and desperation, before he releases me for a breath, looking at me like I’ve wrecked him.
“Good God, woman, you’re going to win this stupid fight. ”
Silas took Max to school while I got ready for work. Morning routine has been life-changing living on the ranch—and with Silas’s never-ending help. Since he’s been back it’s like every time I turn around—he’s there. Looking for ways to be my hero. Even if it’s just an afternoon caffeine kick.
I know it won’t always be this way.
Hell, he could decide next week this whole thing with Jasper is too much and he can’t deal with it.
Somehow I don’t see him doing that. I don’t see him giving up on us. I trust him. He came through for me. Between the team’s devastating loss and then finding out about Jasper—he remembered our simple exchange from earlier that night. And he chose me.
God I could have melted in his arms. I feel like I did—all night, pressed right up against his chest.
I brush Skye’s hair absently. She’s calm today, digging her nose into my apron like I’m hiding carrots. “That’s not food, Skye, just haven’t washed this thing lately.” I lift my apron to give it a sniff. “Promise, I’ll pick some up for you later.”
Skye lifts her head as Wilder comes through the door.
“Oh, hey, boss. You here for Tuscan? I’ll get him ready for you.”
He tips his hat with a grin. “I can saddle my own horse, Storm.” He eyes me with Skye and gives a curt nod. “Besides, you look busy.”
“Oh, well,” I toss the comb aside and swipe my hands against my apron. “Someone’s gotta keep her pretty.”
He preps Tuscan for a ride, praising his horse as I reach for a lead rope and recoil it properly.
“Say, why don’t you come for a ride with me?”
I glance back at him. “’Cause I’m on the clock.”
“So take a break. It’s going to get too cold for it soon enough.” He doesn’t wait for my response, simply hands me her saddle and I don’t argue. It’s not often I can take Skye out without someone else doing the riding, and she doesn’t particularly like that.
I squint against the sun as we ride slow along the fence line. “Where we going?”
“Wherever you want.” He tilts his chin to my horse. “Skye’s yours now. Off the market and unavailable for lessons.”
I freeze, pulling the reins. “This more of Silas’s doing?”
Wilder chuckles, pulling Tuscan to a stop and turning back to me. “No. I’m taking credit for this one. I’ve seen you with her. Can tell she’s your favorite,” he nods at her, “and it’s reciprocated.”
“I’ll pay for her,” I offer, not bothering to argue. I’d love nothing more than to call her my own.
He shakes his head. “She’s not for sale. She’s a gift. And you’re takin’ it.”
I smile. “Carrie taught me to ride on her—years ago.”
He looks thoughtful. “I didn’t know that.”
I stroke her neck. “I was happy to see she was still here when I came back last year.”
“Meant to be, if you ask me.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “So . . . this was all you? Silas had nothing to do with it?”
“Okay, full disclosure? Silas is just an added bonus.”
“How so?”
He moves his horse closer. “Heard about what happened at the game this weekend. And it’s only a matter of time before my little brother finds out I knew. So I thought I’d offset his reaction by telling him I gave you your favorite horse.”
“You knew?” I almost wince. I’ve had my suspicions about it being more than just Mr. Thorne and Ginger knowing about Jasper. But never questioned it.
He nods. “And before you ask, no one’s judging you for it.”
My head drops to Skye. Does that include Silas?
“You two all right?” Wilder asks.
“Yeah, we’re all right,” I lie. “He just . . . well this kind of thing . . . takes time to adjust to.”
“Time. Bullshit,” he bites and I blink at him. “Sorry, but it is. Way I see it is my brother wasn’t there and Jasper was. End of story. Whatever happened, happened and he needs to deal with it like a man.”
“All right, cowboy, calm your horses.”
“Take it from me. I almost lost the love of my life because I needed time. You tell him to get the fuck over it or he can go crawl into whatever hole that old friend of his went under.”
I smirk. “I’ll get right on that, boss.”
He nods. “Just don’t tell him I said any of this; this is your mess, you deal with it.” He grins with a wink.
I laugh. “Thank you. For Skye . . . and the advice. Ya’ll are spoiling me.” I stroke Skye again. “I can keep her here, right?”
He shrugs, lookin’ at her. “Of course. It’s her home.” Then flicks his eyes to me with a nod. “It’s yours too.”