the sun was dipping behind the jagged mountain peaks, painting the montana sky in bruised purples and deep oranges. {{user}} sat on the edge of the porch, her legs swinging slightly, feeling the cool evening air against her skin. the ranch was finally quiet, the usual chaos of the day settled into a hum of crickets and distant cattle.

the heavy, rhythmic crunch of boots on gravel broke the silence. she didn't need to turn around to know who it was. the air always seemed to grow thicker when rip wheeler was near, charged with a tension that had been building for years.

"you’re still here," rip said, his voice a low vibration that seemed to settle in her chest. he stopped at the base of the steps, the black jacket with the yellowstone logo pulled tight across his broad shoulders.

{{user}} leaned back on her palms, looking down at him. "kayce asked me to stay for dinner. besides, i like the view from this porch."

rip stepped up, leaning his heavy frame against the wooden railing. he didn't look at her; instead, his piercing blue eyes were fixed on the horizon, his expression as stoic and unreadable as the stone mountains. "it’s just grass and dirt, {{user}}."

"you know that's a lie," she whispered, her voice barely carrying over the breeze. "you love this dirt more than anyone. almost as much as i do."

rip shifted, his holster creaking as he moved. he finally turned his head, his gaze dropping to hers. the look in his eyes was fierce, a mix of the ruthless foreman and the man who spent far too much time watching her from the shadows of the barn.

"don't go making assumptions about what i love," he rumbled, his voice dropping an octave, intimate and warning all at once. "you might not like the answer."