Page 116 of Ironwood Ranch Cowboys

“I know.”

For a second, neither of us moves.

The office feels smaller than it did a minute ago. Tighter. Everything shifted without asking permission.

Annie exhales slowly, trying to calm herself, but I catch it, the way her fingers curl against the desk, the way her shoulders square, bracing for something she doesn’t want but isn’t going to run from either.

“You don’t get to…” she starts.

I step closer, which cuts her off mid-sentence.

Her breath hitches. Barely there, but I hear it.

“You’re right,” I say. “I don’t get to tell you who you see. What you do. Where you go.”

Her eyes flick between mine, searching. “Then what is this?” she asks.

I don’t answer right away, because the truth isn’t something I’ve ever been good at saying out loud.

I normally just act.

My hand finds the edge of the desk beside her, boxing her in without touching her, close enough that she feels it. The shift. The intent.

“This,” I say, “is me trying to ignore everything I shouldn’t be ignoring.”

Her lips part.

I don’t give myself time to think it through, to weigh it against reputation or rules or consequences. If I do, I’ll stop, and I’m done stopping.

My hand slides to her jaw, firm but careful, thumb brushing just beneath her ear as I tilt her face up to mine.

“Silas…”

I crash my lips to hers, heat and restraint snapping all at once.

She goes still for half a heartbeat, just enough for me to feel the shock of it, before she surges forward. She’s been holding this back just as hard as I have.

Her hands grip my shirt, dragging me closer as she kisses me back, hungry and a little bit angry.

Good.

I deepen it, angling her head, my grip tightening just enough to feel the pulse beneath my fingers. She makes a sound, low and breathless, that hits somewhere deep and wrecks what little control I had left.

I’ve wanted her. More than I’ve even admitted to myself. The jealousy has been less about Duke and way more about me.

All of it breaks.

She tastes of coffee and something sweeter that doesn’t belong here because that makes me want more than I should.

My other hand slides to her waist, pulling her up from the chair without thinking, closing the last of the distance between us until there’s nothing left but heat and breath and the clash of heat neither of us is pretending to ignore anymore.

And I won’t be able to ignore it again.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Annie

The first thing I taste is his disbelief, all sharp with salt and the dark, unspoken parts of himself that he refuses to let out—except, apparently, for this.