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By the time we’re done, the sun’s dipping lower, painting everything gold.

One of Baron’s hands leads us out to guest cabin number four—small, neat, set a little apart from the main traffic of the ranch.

Private.

Exactly what I want.

I drop our bags inside first.

It’s a single.

One bed.

One bath.

Good.

I turn back to her.

“You take the first shower,” I say.

Her lips twitch.

“Wow. Such a gentleman.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

She laughs softly and heads inside.

I give her a few minutes.

Five.

Maybe ten.

Long enough to hear the water kick on.

Long enough to picture exactly what’s happening in there.

Fuck.

I drag a hand down my face, pacing once across the small porch.

“This is a bad idea,” I mutter.

And I know it is.

Because everything between us is still a mess.

Still unresolved.

Still sitting on a knife’s edge.

But I also know—I’m not stopping this.

Not again.

Not when I’ve got her this close.