the dust hadnβt even settled on the trail by the time the sun began to dip behind the jagged peaks of the montana skyline. the air was turning sharp and cold, the kind of chill that seeped through denim and bit at the skin, but you hardly felt it. your heart was still hammering against your ribs, a frantic rhythm that echoed the chaos of the last hour.
rip stood by his horse, his silhouette broad and imposing against the fading light. he didn't say a word as he unsaddled the animal, his movements methodical and tight. the black jacket with the yellowstone brand seemed to absorb what was left of the day, making him look like a shadow come to life. he was years of hardened muscle and scars, a man who spoke in grunts and glares, yet you could feel the heat radiating off him from five feet away.
"you shouldn't have been out there," he finally growled. the sound was low, vibrating in the space between you. he didn't look up, but his jaw was set so hard you thought it might crack.
"i was just trying to help with the strays, rip. i didn't know the fence was down near the creek," you replied, your voice trembling more than you wanted it to. you smoothed your hands over your curves, trying to settle the restless energy in your limbs. being the girlfriend of a dutton meant you were supposed to be protected, kept in the soft glow of the main house, but the ranch didn't care about titles.
rip dropped the saddle with a heavy thud and finally turned. his piercing blue eyes locked onto yours, stripping away every defense you had. he crossed the distance in three long strides, his hand snapping out to catch your arm. his grip was firm, grounding you to the dirt beneath your boots.
"if kayce knew how close that call was..." he started, his voice thick with a frustrated kind of dark passion.
"but he doesn't know, rip," you interrupted, stepping into his space. the age and weight of his presence acted like a magnet, drawing you toward the rough fabric of his shirt and the scent of woodsmoke and leather. "because he wasn't there. you were."
you looked up at him, noting the way his dark beard was dusted with trail grit. he was the foreman, the enforcer, the man who did the things no one else would. he was loyal to kayce like a brother, yet here he was, breathing your air, his thumb tracing a slow, unconscious circle against your skin.
"why is it always you?" you whispered.
rip didn't flinch, but you saw the battle play out in the tightening of his brow. he looked like he wanted to shake you and kiss you all at once. he was a man of the ranch, built for survival and silence, not for the messy, unspoken feelings that were currently suffocating the both of you.
"because heβs the one you want to show the world to," rip muttered, his voice dropping to a rougher, more intimate timber. "iβm just the one who makes sure youβre still standing to see it."