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Dalton stands a few feet away, hands tucked into his jacket pockets. I relax when I see that it’s him.

“So glad you’re here,” he says, smiling wide.

“Hey, Dalton. Thanks.”

He nods toward Linc. “He’s done great out here.”

“He really loves it.”

Dalton hesitates, then steps closer, lowering his voice. “I wanted to make sure we’re okay. Things ended on a weird note the other night when Maverick came up. I wasn’t done dancing with you.” He smiles shyly. “I went to the bathroom, and when I came out, you were gone.”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry if I was weird. I, uh . . . I didn’t stay long.”

“I know. I was bummed that you didn’t.”

I don’t know what to say to that. I’ve never gotten flirty vibes from Dalton until we danced, and I thought that was probably just in good fun, a guy wanting to dance. I’m not sure what to do with anything more than that. I don’t think he does, either, because we just stand there awkwardly.

I feel the air sharpen and glance up.

Maverick stands at the far end of the barn, a lead rope draped over one shoulder, cowboy hat shadowing his eyes. He’s gone still, and his focus is on Dalton and me.

Dalton sees who has my attention and shifts uncomfortably. “I should get back to work,” he says, already backing away. “I’ll look for you later.”

“Okay, yeah,” I murmur. “See you later.”

The second Dalton disappears, Maverick is moving.

By the time he reaches me, his expression is carved out of ice.

“This isn’t the place for a hookup,” he says.

I straighten, lifting my chin. “What the hell did you just say?” I ask, my tone as cold as his.

A muscle jumps in his jaw.

“You heard me.”

“I did, and I wanted to give you a chance to take it back.” The words are clenched and quiet, so no one will hear but him. “Because if you think you have any right to say something like that to me, you are sadly mistaken. I’m here for my son. What kind of mother do you think I am?”

Something flashes in his eyes, but it’s gone almost instantly, replaced by that infuriating calm.

“As long as you’re clear on what this overnight is and what it isn’t,” he says under his breath.

“I’m clear on the fact that what I do is none of your business.”

He lifts his hat and smooths back his wavy black hair before putting it back on. I used to love when he did that.

“It’ll be a long twenty-four hours if we keep this up,” he says, sighing.

I turn to face him. “Exactly. So how about you stay the hell away from me, and I’ll stay the hell away from you.”

His nose flares. “Fine.”

“Fine.”

Linc jogs over, blissfully unaware. “Mom, Maverick, did you see when Copper let me trot without holding the reins?”

Maverick’s expression changes instantly, the ice snapping into something softer as he looks at my son. “Yes, I did. You did great.”