Chapter 4 Cash #2
Her breath catches. Fear flickers in her eyes, then something else that looks like relief.
Watching for the flinch, the retreat, I wait.
Instead, surrender softens her expression.
Her nervous system adjusts, accepting what her mind won't admit yet.
The tension in her shoulders eases incrementally, and she doesn't pull her hand away.
She sits there with her pulse beating under my thumb and her eyes locked on mine while the diner buzzes around us.
Lorna brings our food. We eat in charged silence, and Sloane's shoulders gradually loosen. She takes a bite of her bacon, then another. Color returns to her cheeks. By the time she's halfway through, she's almost relaxed.
"Better?" I ask.
She nods. "The food's good here."
"Told you." She doesn't stop me when I spear a strawberry slice off her plate with my fork and pop it into her mouth. She chews with amusement flickering in her eyes.
We finish eating. I pay at the counter while Sloane lingers near the door, looking at the local paper in a news rack. Lorna leans in close when she hands me my change.
"That girl's scared, Cash."
"I know."
"You being careful with her?"
Meeting her eyes, I say, "I'm being honest with her. That's more important."
Lorna’s words echo in my head as we hit the shimmering wall of midday heat.
I keep my palm against Sloane’s back, expecting the usual flinch, the stiffening of her shoulders.
It never comes. Instead, she sways toward me, her shoulder tucking under mine as if she’s finally tired of standing on her own two feet.
The asphalt radiates feverish air, but inside the cab of the truck, the silence feels different, softer, like the sharp edges are finally starting to dull.
The drive back starts quietly. Ten miles pass before she speaks.
"Why did you do that?"
"Do what?"
"With Carter. The whole territorial thing."
Glancing at her, I see that she's not looking at me, but her hands twist in her lap. Nervous energy bleeds through.
"Because it's true," I say simply. "You're mine. I'm not going to pretend otherwise."
"I never said I was yours."
"Yes, you did." Reaching over, I still her hands and cover them with one of mine. "Three nights ago in your cabin. When I made you come apart on my tongue and you said my name like it was the only word you knew. You said it then."
Her face flushes red. "That's not fair."
"It's true."
She's quiet for another few miles. Then, barely audibly, she asks, "What if I'm not ready for everyone to know?"
Pulling the truck over onto a side road, middle of nowhere, nothing but mesquite and sky, I kill the engine and turn to face her.
"Then tell me right now—give me the word and I’ll step back, finishing your stay as your guide and nothing else. But if you’re mine, Sloane, I need to hear it from your lips so there isn’t a single shadow of doubt left between us."
Her eyes search mine. Looking for the lie. The angle. The way this is going to hurt her.
She won't find it.
"I'm scared," she whispers.
"I know."
"What if this doesn't work? What if I go back to Seattle and—"
I lean across the bench seat and kiss her hard enough to stop the spiral. Deep enough to make my point. When I pull back, we're both breathing hard.
"Say you're mine," I demand.
Her hands come up to grip my shirt. "Cash—"
"Say it."
"I'm yours." The words break on a sob. "God help me, I'm yours."
I kiss her again, softer this time, claiming her but gently. I whisper against her mouth, "Good. Because I'm not letting you go."
The drive back to the ranch is different. She sits closer, her thigh pressed against mine, her hand resting on my knee. When I pull up to the main lodge, the sun is high and brutal, and ranch hands work in the distance.
They're going to notice. Everyone's going to notice.
I don't care.
Because this is what claiming looks like. Not just telling her she's mine in private but showing the whole damn world she belongs with me. That I'm not hiding this. Not treating her like a secret or a mistake or something temporary.
She chose to sit close. Chose to touch me where everyone can see. That's her claiming me right back, and the weight of it settles in my chest like an anchor.
We walk to Cabin 5 with my hand on her lower back. When we reach her porch, I back her against the door and kiss her until she's gasping. My hands rest on her waist, thumbs brushing the underside of her breasts through the thin T-shirt, and she arches into the touch.
"I'll be thinking about you," I say against her mouth. "All night."
She sighs, breathing out the word same against my lips.
I cut the tension with a statement, I'll see you tomorrow, giving myself a reason to move. I turn on my heel, the physical distance between us growing with every step, but my skin still feels the phantom heat of her. I don't stop until I’m inside the lodge, the heavy oak door clicking shut. It’s the only thing standing between my resolve and the urge to turn around.
Behind me, I imagine her door opening and closing, the lock turning.
And I know it: Everything just changed.
She's mine now.
And everyone knows it.