Chapter 12 Rodeo & Fireworks
Chapter twelve
Rodeo & Fireworks
Avery
Fireworks are still going off. His lips taste like heat and adrenaline and every bad idea I ever wanted to make twice.
My fingers are tangled in the front of his shirt, the fabric warm and slightly rough beneath my palms, grounding me in the heat of the moment.
I don’t want to let go. Not now. Maybe not ever.
The shadows behind the rodeo grounds horse barn wrap around us, dimming the world until it’s just him and me and the storm we’ve been fighting since the day I stepped back onto the ranch.
My chest rises and falls too fast, every breath an echo of want. Cash’s eyes are dark, dangerous, but there’s a softness too, one that’s new. One that scares me.
I take a shaky step back, trying to catch my breath. “That was…”
He raises an eyebrow, lips curved with amusement. “Unexpected?”
“Intense,” I counter, voice barely above a whisper.
We’re standing too close. Or maybe not close enough. My back brushes against the cool wooden wall of the tack room. He moves with me, one hand settling on the door beside my head like he’s holding the moment still.
“Let's go home,” he says, low and gruff.
I should tell him no. That this is reckless and messy and nothing good ever comes from kissing your grumpy ranch foreman behind a barn. But I don’t. Because my heart is pounding for all the right reasons. Because his closeness feels like clarity.
I pull out my phone with slightly shaking hands and send Harper a quick message, asking her to bring Emmy home with her and I let her know that we are leaving. She text back with a big YEE HAW!!
My heart hammers in my chest as the weight of what’s about to happen settling over me like a warm, terrifying blanket. I ride home with Cash.
We end up back in our barn on the ranch.
His hands cupped my face, thumbs brushing my cheeks, and in that moment, I saw it, a crack in the armor, a glimpse of the man beneath the stoic exterior.
Vulnerability flickered in his eyes, a rare gift he offered only to me.
I felt the weight of it, the trust it implied, and my heart stuttered in response.
This man, who commanded respect with every stride, who could silence a room with a single glance, was laying himself bare for me.
And I wanted to honor that, to give him everything I had in return. Our lips met again, the kiss deepening, heat spiraling between us. It wasn’t frantic, not desperate, but molten, a slow burn that threatened to consume us both.
His hands slid down, gently removing my clothes, then his, guiding me back onto the horse blankets spread across the hay. The rough texture scratched against my skin, a stark contrast to the tenderness of his touch.
He moved with a deliberate slowness, as if memorizing every curve, every freckle, every breath I took. His fingers traced the line of my jaw, the curve of my shoulder, the swell of my breast, each touch a silent vow.
I shivered, not from the cool night air seeping through the barn’s walls, but from the intensity of his gaze. He was seeing me, truly seeing me, and it felt like he was peeling back layers I didn’t even know existed.
His lips followed the path his fingers had taken, a feather-light brush against my skin, sending shivers down my spine. I arched into him, a silent plea for more, and he granted it, his mouth warm and insistent against my neck, my collarbone, the sensitive skin just above my heart.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his breath hot against my ear, sending a jolt of desire straight to my core. His voice was rough, raw, stripped of its usual confidence, and it made my knees weak.
“You make me feel beautiful,” I whispered back, my fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer.
He looked at me then, his eyes dark with unspoken emotions, and I saw the fear there, mirrored in my own. Fear of getting too close, of wanting too much, of losing control. But there was something else too, something stronger, a yearning for connection, for surrender, for something real.
We moved together, a feeling as old as time, our bodies fitting perfectly, as if they’d been waiting for this moment.
His touch was firm yet reverent, his kisses hungry yet gentle.
Every caress, every whisper, every shared breath was heavy with meaning, with unspoken promises and vulnerabilities laid bare.
His hands moving slowly on my body testing every curve, every wetness and every hardness.
His lips and tongue roaming thoroughly up my body and down my body.
Teasing, playing, enjoying every inch of me.
Making me wild with desire and ache for his touch.
He stopped at my breasts. Teasing each one of them and then nibbling, mouthing them while my body is arching into him.
He entered me slowly, his eyes locked on mine, searching for permission, for reassurance.
I gave it freely, my legs wrapping around him, pulling him deeper, closer, until there was no space between us.
He moved with a rhythm that felt natural, as if our bodies had memorized this dance long before we met.
“Avery,” he groaned, my name a prayer on his lips, a plea and a promise all at once.
“Cash,” I whispered, his name a surrender, a declaration of trust, of desire, of everything I couldn’t put into words.
The world narrowed to just the two of us, the hay scratching our skin. There was only the heat, the friction, the overwhelming sensation of being completely known and accepted. The rhythm between us increasing slowly until we were moving frantically with pleasure.
Our climaxes built slowly, a crescendo of pleasure and emotion, until we shattered together, cries escaping our lips, our bodies trembling in unison.
It wasn’t just about release, it was connection, raw and real.
Each touch chipped away at the walls we’d both built, offering solace in the quiet between heartbeats.
Afterward, we lay tangled, breathless, hearts pounding in rhythm. Cash's hand rested on my stomach, his fingers tracing lazy circles, a silent comfort.
I let my myself relax, savoring the grounding weight of his touch. It felt like an anchor, gentle, steady, like he was silently promising he wouldn’t let me drift away again.
The hay crackled beneath us, a reminder of the world outside, but in this moment, it felt distant, irrelevant.
The music from the barn radio that was always on, drifted through the open barn door, a faint, cheerful melody contrasting the quiet intimacy between us. Cash's thumb brushed my cheek, his gaze soft, questioning.
“What now?” I whispered, my voice hoarse, vulnerable.
He smiled, a small, sad smile, and for a moment, I saw the weight of his unspoken fears. “I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice rough. “But I know I want to figure it out with you.”
His words hung in the air, heavy with possibility. We could go back to the way things were, pretend this never happened, hide behind our carefully constructed walls.
Or we could embrace the vulnerability, the fear, the hope, and see if this path leads to the future.
The choice was ours, and the silence between us buzzed with the potential of a thousand different futures.
He turns his head, presses a kiss to my temple. “You okay?”
I nod, emotion tightening my throat. “Yeah. You?”
He doesn’t speak right away. Just brushes my hair back from my face and looks at me like I’m something he never expected to have.
“Yeah,” he says finally. “Better than okay.”
We stay like that, wrapped in hay and heat and everything we didn’t know we needed.
I shift slightly against him, still breathless but lighter somehow. Like shedding a weight I didn’t even know I was carrying.
"I didn’t expect that," I murmur.
Cash turns his head to look at me, his mouth tugging into a soft smile. "Me either."
We’re quiet for a few beats, the sound of the barn creaking and the soft hum of insects outside filling the silence. Then he says, "You scared the hell out of me, you know. Showing up, turning everything upside down."
"That makes two of us," I admit. "I didn’t come here to feel anything. Definitely not this."
He traces a slow circle on my bare breast. "Then why did you stay?"
The question lingers, weighty and real. I swallow hard, fingers brushing his chest. "Because for the first time in a long time, I feel like I’m not running."
He exhales like he’s been holding his breath. "I want to be someone you don’t have to run from."
I meet his eyes, and for once, I don’t look away. "Then stop pretending you don’t care. Because I know you do. And I do, too. Probably more than I should."
His brow furrows, and I see the war inside him, between the guy who keeps his guard up and the man lying next to me now, who let it down. "I’ve never brought anyone here before. Not like this."
That softens something deep in me. I press a kiss to his collarbone. "Me either."
He shifts, pulling the blanket tighter around us, the quiet stretching between us in a way that feels comforting, not empty.
"What happens tomorrow?" I ask.
He brushes his lips against my hair. "We keep moving forward and get this place to be our home. Like always. But maybe this time, we don’t do it alone."
I close my eyes, letting the warmth of his arms and the truth in his words lull me into the kind of peace I haven’t known in years. Whatever happens next, tonight was real. And for now, that’s enough.
Just as I start to catch my breath, lulled by the steady rise and fall of his chest and the low thrum of night sounds outside, I hear the sound of little feet running our direction, then the car doors slamming shut with Emma running towards the barn door and opens it with a squeal.
“Mommy?”
By this time we have some clothes on, not all of them but presentable.
Standing just inside the doorway, is Emmy, holding a half-squished stuffed horse under one arm and rubbing her eyes with the other.
“Oh my God,” I whisper, as we are scrambling to pull more clothes on. “Emmy, what are you doing out here?”
She blinks at us, clearly unfazed. “I had to show you the ribbon I won for tossing the ball at the bottles. I heard you guys wrestling in here so I came this way to find you.”
I groan and bury my face in Cash’s shoulder while he tries, and fails, to stifle a laugh.
“Hey, peanut,” he says, voice gentle. “You scared us.”
Emmy walks forward and plops herself right on top of the blanket at our feet. Were you guys fighting?
“No, baby,” I say, already dreading the conversation I’m going to have with Harper later. “Just… surprised.”
Cash leans down and scoops her up like she weighs nothing, settling her on his lap. “Want to stay out here with us a little while?”
She nods sleepily, tired out from the big night she has had and snuggles in without hesitation.
I glance at him, and he shrugs like this is totally normal, me still half-naked with a blanket, him shirtless, and a five-year-old wedged between us in a pile of hay.
“Well,” I say under my breath, “so much for a quiet night.”
Cash grins. “Still worth it.”
Emmy yawns and blinks up at us, then squints suspiciously. “Why were you and Cash wrestling with no shirts on?”
I freeze. Cash coughs into his hand.
“Uh, we weren’t wrestling, honey,” I say quickly.
She tilts her head, unconvinced. “It looked like kissing and rolling around. That’s what wrestling is when grown-ups do it, right?”
Cash tries to smother a laugh and fails miserably. “Not exactly,” he mutters.
Emmy looks between us, completely serious. “Are you his girlfriend now? Because if you are, does that mean I have to call him Dad?”
My mouth drops open, heat flushing my face so fast I’m surprised I don’t burst into flames. My brain short-circuits, trying to come up with an answer that won’t lead to years of therapy.
“W-what? No. That’s not how it works, baby.”
Cash goes very still beside me. I glance over, and his expression is somewhere between shocked and stunned stupid.
Emmy shrugs like it’s no big deal and pulls her stuffed horse to her chest. “Okay. But if he gives me pancakes in the morning, I might change my mind.”
I throw an arm over my face and groan while Cash whispers, “Pancakes. Got it.”
Emmy lays down between us like she’s claimed her new bed for the night. “Next time you wrestle, I want to see.”
Cash lets out a low chuckle, and I whisper, “We are never living this down.”
“Still worth it,” he says again, voice warm with amusement.
And somehow, despite the embarrassment, I believe him.