Chapter 20
Asher
Long before the first chute opens, the rodeo grounds are alive with noise and nerves and adrenaline hanging in the air like heat.
Dust hangs in the air, cut through with the smell of leather and grilled corn.
Kids weave between rows of boots and spurs, laughter chasing them.
Cowboys warm up their horses with the kind of quiet focus I understand in my bones.
But it is not the arena that has my attention. It is the sight of her and her girl, walking beside my family as if they have always been here.
Emma wears a denim jacket two sizes too big and a bow in her hair that's already slipping sideways.
She clutches Kassi's hand until something in the midway catches her eye, and she breaks into a run.
Without thinking, I scoop her up before she can tumble over a loose board in the walkway.
She squeals, high-pitched and happy, and when I set her down, she beams like I hung the moon.
"You have to watch where you're running, Sweet Pea," I say, crouching to her level.
"Those boots aren't built for quick turns."
She nods solemnly, then giggles. "You're like a catcher's mitt."
"Big hands come in handy." I grin, tapping the brim of her hat. "Stick close to your mama. Rodeos are busy."
When I straighten, Kassi's watching me, her lips parted like she's caught between saying thank you and saying something else entirely. The look holds a beat too long before she glances away, brushing her hair behind her ear.
Emma's braids bounce as she skips a step. "Mama, can we sit close to the chute so I can see the horses jump?" Her voice is bright and eager.
I step in before Kassi has to answer. "We'll get you close enough to see everything, Sweet Pea."
I walk with them back to the seats Mom and Dad always pick. They are already there, settled with programs in hand, proud as sin about Finn's name being printed in bold on the roster. Zach cracks a joke about side bets, and Jenna swats him with her folded program.
The first set of riders goes, and Emma claps until her palms are pink.
My brother shouts, my mother waves her hat, my father stands tall, pride written in the set of his shoulders.
And in the middle of it all, I notice how Emma leans against my side when I sit back down.
It’s as if she trusts me to hold the space around her.
I slide my arm behind her shoulders to shield her from a sudden jostle when a kid tumbles down the row, and without realizing it, I've tucked her even closer. Kassi notices that too.
She bites her lip and looks away, but I don't miss the quick sweep of her lashes, the way her shoulders ease just a fraction.
The announcer calls Finn's name, and the whole family roars.
Emma stands on the bench, bouncing. I grab her waist so she doesn't topple, lifting her high so she can see.
She laughs, gripping my hat with both hands, waving it like a flag.
I don't even care that the crown of my head is exposed to the sun.
Her joy is worth every second. Finn bursts out of the chute, riding like the devil is at his heels, and we cheer until our throats go raw.
When the buzzer sounds, and he makes his time, the stands shake with the noise.
Emma hollers with the rest of us, hat slipping down over her eyes, and I fix it with a grin I can't hide.
"He did it, Mama! He really did it!" she shrieks, bouncing against my side.
"Sure did," Kassi says, steadying her before she tumbles off the bench. Her small hand fists in my sleeve, anchoring herself. The sound of her laughter worms into places in me I didn't know were empty.
My mom wipes a tear. My dad grins so wide his mustache shifts. Zach hollers loud enough for the entire arena to hear. And right in the middle of it, Kassi looks at me. Just a small glance, but it lands deep. She saw me holding Emma steady. She saw me watch her daughter like she was mine to protect.
After the chaos settles and after Finn takes his victory lap, the announcer moves on, and I catch Kassi's gaze across over Emma’s head.
Something electric passes between us—certain, unmistakable.
She knows it as much as I do. The weight of what we've been holding back presses heavily.
I lean down, murmuring low so only she can hear. "Walk with me."
Her eyes widen, but she doesn't argue. She just nods.
Candy has joined my family and has Emma settled with popcorn, my mother is fussing over her, and I know she's safe.
Kassi leans down and whispers something to Candy, who smiles, eyes darting to me before she nods.
Kassi kisses the top of Emma's head before we make our way out of the bleachers.
Kassi lets me guide her out past the arena fence, toward the quiet edge of the fairgrounds where the lights don't reach so bright.
The silence stretches between us, heavy but not unwelcome. Crickets chirp and a horse stomps somewhere beyond the pens.
"You didn't have to catch her earlier," she says finally, her voice low.
"Didn't even think," I admit. "She was falling. My hands moved."
Her shoulders soften. "That's what scares me."
"Why?"
"Because you keep proving I can trust you."
I stop walking, turning her toward me. The fair lights flicker in her eyes. "Is that so bad?"
"Yes," she whispers, though her gaze doesn't waver. "Because the more I trust you, the more I forget all the reasons I shouldn't."
I cup her cheek, thumb brushing her jaw. "Then forget them for one night."
She exhales, shaky. "Just one night?"
"We'll see." My voice is rougher than I mean it to be.
“Emma is going home with Candy, but let me just check in with her,” she says, pulling out her phone.
Once everything is arranged, I take her hand and lead her to my truck.
The drive back to the ranch is quiet except for the gravel crunching under the tires until she asks questions about the rodeo and what it means that Finn won.
She doesn't pull away when I rest my hand over hers on the seat between us.
I tell her how all the rodeos rack up points until the big one and how he's set to make almost a million dollars this year if he wins at the finals.
"I had no idea there was that kind of money in it," she says.
"Yeah, we cowboys don't risk our health just for the fun of it," I smirk.
She shakes her head, smiling as I turn into my driveway.
I help her out of the truck, and once inside the house, the silence thickens. She stands by the door, looking like she might bolt. I give her space, leaning against the counter, hat in my hands.
"You can tell me to take you back," I say.
Her eyes search mine. Then she crosses the space herself.
She stops close enough that I catch the scent of her perfume mixed with arena dust and night air. Her fingers find the front of my shirt, fisting the fabric like Emma did with my sleeve, but this touch burns differently. Deeper. When she looks up at me, her pupils are wide in the dim kitchen light.
"I don't know what I'm doing," she breathes.
"Neither do I." The honesty scrapes out of me. "But I know I've been wanting to touch you since the first day you walked into my barn."
Her intake of breath is sharp, audible. "Asher..."
"Tell me to stop." My hands settle on her waist, thumbs finding the strip of skin where her shirt has ridden up. She shivers at the contact. "Tell me this is a mistake."
Without waiting for an answer, she rises on her toes and kisses me.
Her lips are soft but urgent, a tentative press that quickly becomes something hungrier.
I pull her against me, one hand sliding to the small of her back, the other cradling the nape of her neck.
She makes a small sound in the back of her throat that vibrates through my bones.
When we break apart, her breath comes quick and shallow. Her fingers trace the line of my jaw, exploring and memorizing the terrain.
"I've thought about this," she confesses, voice husky. "Too much."
I back her against the kitchen counter, pinning her with my hips. "Tell me what you've thought about."
Her cheeks flush, but her eyes hold mine. "Your hands. How they'd feel on my skin."
I take the invitation, sliding my palm under her shirt, tracing the curve of her waist, feeling goosebumps rise in my wake. "Like this?"
"Yes," she breathes, arching slightly into my touch. "And your mouth."
I dip my head, brush my lips along her neck, feeling her pulse jump beneath my tongue. She gasps, her nails digging into my shoulders as I find the sensitive spot just below her ear. "God, Asher."
"I want to know every sound you make," I murmur against her skin, tasting the salt and sweetness there. "Every way you say my name."
Her hands fumble with the buttons of my shirt, fingers trembling slightly. "I haven't done this in... it's been a long time."
I pull back to look at her, seeing the vulnerability written across her features. "We go at your pace. Whatever you want."
"I want you to make me forget everything else exists." The admission comes out raw, desperate. "Just for tonight, I want to be someone who doesn't have to think about consequences."
Something primal unfurls in my chest. I lift her onto the counter, stepping between her legs, my hands spanning her thighs. "Then let me take care of you."
She nods, breath hitching as I work the buttons of her shirt with deliberate slowness. With each inch of skin I reveal, I worship with my mouth until she's trembling in my arms me, whispering my name like a prayer.
The last button falls open, and I pause, drinking in the sight of her. Lace and smooth curves, the rapid rise and fall of her chest. Her eyes are dark with want, but there's still a flicker of uncertainty there.
"You're beautiful," I tell her, voice rougher than gravel. "So damn beautiful it hurts to look at you."
She reaches for my belt buckle, fingers working the to remove my belt with more confidence now. "I want to see you too."