35. Danger
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
danger
I’ve been thrown harder than this.
Eight seconds. Dirt in my mouth. Crowd screaming.
I can handle pain. What I don’t know how to handle is the way Winnie hasn’t asked me about Rylee.
It’s been a week since she got out of the hospital.
A week since I started going by her house every day—checking in with her parents, making sure she’s got everything she needs.
I promised her space.
And I’ve been giving it to her. But it doesn’t change the fact that things aren’t the same between us anymore.
She’s been healing. Getting back on her feet.
Acting like she’s okay. And the worst part is that she hasn’t asked me about it once.
Rylee is gone—back where she belongs. The town has moved on like nothing happened.
But between me and Winnie? Something’s still stuck in that hospital room.
But tonight? I’m hoping we finally get it all out in the open. I’m on my way to Sawyer and Trouble’s save-the-date party, and I know she’ll be there. The second I step into the bar, I look around until I see her.
Not because I’m looking. Because I always know where she is.
She’s laughing at something Sawyer says, head tipped back, hair catching the string lights.
Fuck. She looks like she doesn’t have a single worry in the world. Like she didn’t spend the last week being distant.
She looks happy. I hope she is but I hate that I might be the reason she isn’t underneath that smile. I adjust my hat and start walking. I’ve faced down two thousand pounds of muscle with less nerves than this.
The moment her eyes find mine, the smile falters. I reach for her waist and she lets me. That almost hurts worse than if she’d pulled away.
“You look good,” I whisper, close enough that my mouth brushes the shell of her ear.
“I’m starting to feel like myself again,” she says lightly.
“Can we talk?”
She looks up at me then—calm. Too calm. Like she’s already heard the conversation in her head.
“Do we have to do it tonight?”
I hold her gaze. Don’t look away. “I want to.”
Her eyes search mine like she’s confirming something she already believes.
“…you don’t have to explain anything.”
She says it like she’s already filled in the blanks.
Around us, the room keeps moving—laughter, music, glasses clinking.
“I want to anyway.”
She gives a small shrug, like it doesn’t matter either way.
“Well,” she says, setting her drink down, “guess we might as well do it now.”
She turns before I can say anything else and starts walking toward the back. Not angry. Not rushed. Like she’s already preparing herself for whatever she thinks I’m about to admit.
I watch her go. The sway of her dress, the tension in her shoulders, the fact that she didn’t once look back to see if I’m following.
A slow grin pulls at my mouth. There she is.
My brave Winnie.
Still mine enough to fight.
I see her slip into the back room, and I follow in after her. She’s petting that damn cat but glances at me once I walk in and shut the door.
There’s usually something in her eyes when she sees me—like she hopes that I'm better than I am. Like she can see through every half-truth I feed the world and still chooses to stand in front of me anyway. That’s not there tonight—still just distance.
I’m suffocating, drowning in her silence. She folds her arms like she’s packing herself away from me, piece by piece.
“Winnie… I’ve been waiting for the right time to talk about all this.”
“There’s nothing to talk about, Dutton.”
First name. That’s not good. I’d rather her yell, cry, talk—I’d take any of that over this.
She finally looks at me again, and I almost wish she hadn’t.
“You told me exactly who you are,” she says quietly. “And now I finally believe you.”
“Who am I?”
It should be easier somehow, to hear it. That she finally sees me the way I see myself.
“Somoene who was never real,” she says. “You warned me about everything from the beginning. That you don’t do feelings. That this would go nowhere, right? You made that clear before the accident.”
“That’s not?—”
She shakes her head and interrupts me. “I know you did a lot for me when I was in the hospital and after and I do appreciate that. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me but you still hurt me.
I really thought maybe there could be more between us.
Thought maybe it wasn’t all fake. That you had a heart, or a conscience when it came to us.
” Her voice cracks, but she keeps going. “But you proved me wrong.”
“How?”
“None of it was real.” She isn’t looking at me, just absentmindedly trails her fingers over a bottle of fireball. “You think I haven’t done this before, Danger? You think I can’t spot it when a guy’s lying straight to my face? When another woman’s involved?”
My arms are folded, left boot pressed so hard against the floor.
I let her talk. Because she deserves that.
She puts a hand on her hip. “Well?”
“It’s not like that,” I manage, watching the cat stretch.
“I thought—” Her voice breaks. “I thought you actually gave a shit. Cared about me, even.”
“Winnie,” I say, softly. “I do care.”
She throws up her hands and accidentally tips a crate which makes a bottle roll out.
“So what is it, then? Why did you break all your rules with me if you really wanted to be back with her?”
There it is.
“I broke every rule because I wanted you,” I say, stepping closer. “From the first second this stupid fake plan started.”
Her breathing changes.
“I care, Winnie. I really damn well care. It isn’t a game. It isn’t convenient for either of us. But unfortunately, you are the only option for me.”
I move close enough that if she wanted to touch me, she could.
“You couldn’t have realized that before?” she asks. “You had to do the worst thing possible first? Rylee was awful to me. To you and Fisher. I know you two had some epic love?—”
“No.” I say simply.
Her mouth closes.
“Nothing happened with Rylee,” I say, quieter now. “Not that night. Not any night since she came back.”
She blinks like she didn’t hear me right. “What?”
“I didn’t touch her.” I hold her eyes so she can’t look away. “Not once.”
The room goes still.
“What Rylee and I had?” I shake my head. “That shit burned out a long time ago. Hell, I think it was smoke before it ever started.”
She takes a step back and crosses her arms.
“But you?” My voice drops. “What’s between us was never fake. Not for me. Not one damn second.”
She searches my face like she’s trying to find the lie.
There isn’t one.
“She showed up,” I continue. “She wanted to talk about Fisher, and then she fell asleep on the couch. I left her in the living room. She must have grabbed my hoodie off the rack on her way out.”
Winnie swallows but doesn’t give me relief yet. “You didn’t sleep with her? Why didn’t you just tell me that?”
“I’m a mess,” I say. “I’ve been a mess since I was old enough to throw a punch. Everything I touch, I break. And I wanted to keep you safe from that.”
She doesn’t try to interrupt and I can't tell what she’s thinkin’.
“My whole life,” I say, picking up the bottle on the floor before setting it in the crate.
“I had to learn to fight for myself. I learned early that no one was ever coming to save me. Not me, not my mom, not my brothers. I learned not to trust anyone, to keep everyone at a distance. I let Rylee in once, and look how that turned out.”
Winnie uncrosses her arms, her fingers twitching at her elbows like she wants to reach out.
“Danger, I’m not her.”
There’s a whole universe somewhere inside those perfect blue eyes. I could live there forever if she let me.
I softly grab her wrist, and she doesn’t pull away. Her pulse is wild, matching mine.
“I know,” I say quietly. “You’re the woman who changed every damn thing for me.”
Her breath catches, but I keep going because if I stop now I might never say it.
“You came into my life, walkin’ around with that tray in your hands… like you weren’t about to turn my whole damn world upside down. Next thing I know, you’re on my ranch… and somehow my boy likes you more than he likes me.”
Her eyes soften, but I don’t let myself off that easy.
“Before you, I figured life was just something you survived. Keep people far enough away, break them before they break you, and maybe you get through it without losing too much.”
I shake my head.
“When that accident happened…” My voice roughens.
“When they told me you might not wake up… Winnie, I would’ve let you break me a thousand times over if it meant I got to keep you for just one more day.
” I pull her to me. “So, if you think any part of this was fake—” My thumb brushes her wrist. “You're wrong. It wasn’t. Not for me. Not for a single second.”
“Danger, I—”
It surprises us both when the cat meows then darts between us.
“What is she doing?” Winnie asks as we watch her paws batting at something that glints in the dim light.
I know Winnie sees it. It's one of those adjustable cord bracelets, sliding across the floor under the cat’s paw. Dangling from it is a tiny heart-shaped charm.
The cat spins with it, completely entranced. Bats at it until it lands right in front of Winnie’s shoe.
She picks it up, and I watch her eyes widen, fingers trembling slightly as she reads the engraving on the heart:
I love you backwards. - D.
I almost bought her something nicer. Gold. Diamonds. Something expensive. Then I saw this bracelet. It looked like something she'd actually wear.
I dropped the bracelet when I grabbed the bottle off the floor hoping the cat would bring it to her. Hell, I didn't think it'd actually work.
Maybe Winnie was right all along. That they know more than we think.
I fight the urge to drag her into my arms and say the words out loud myself.
But if they come from me, she might not believe it.
So, maybe she’ll believe it if it finds her a different way.
“How… did you do this?” she whispers, fingers brushing the charm.
The cat meows like she knows she just delivered the most important message of my life. And I finally let myself smile, quietly, because the woman I’ve spent so long trying not to need… she finally knows.
I lean against the doorway, hands in my pockets, trying to keep it cool. “She did that. You told me once… animals tell us everything we need to know. Figured if she brought it to you… maybe you’d believe it.”
The cat nudges the charm in her hand again, and I watch her clutch it to her chest. My chest aches seeing her like this—smiling through tears.
I walk over and tilt her chin up so she has to see me. “I do love you,” I say, and this time my voice doesn’t waver. “I love you backwards exactly how Granddaddy said I would one day?—”
She kisses me before I can finish. Hard, teeth and tongue and every bit of relief and fight we’ve got left between us. When she pulls away, she’s got tears falling down her face.
“I… I love you backwards, too,” she whispers, clutching the charm. The world settles back into place.
She looks up at me then, and I see it—the part of her that always knew. The part that waited.