the rain wasn’t just falling; it was claiming the montana wilderness, turning the dirt to slick ribbon and the air into a gray, freezing curtain. kayce guided {{user}} and tate toward the jagged overhang of an old equipment shed, his hand firm on the small of her back as they scrambled inside the cramped space. it was barely big enough for the three of them, smelling of rusted iron, dry hay, and the sharp, clean scent of the coming storm.

tate curled up against a stack of burlap sacks, the adrenaline of their "nature lesson" replaced by the heavy exhaustion of the cold. within minutes, the boy’s breathing evened out into the rhythmic pull of sleep, leaving the two adults alone in the thick, charged silence of the shed.

{{user}} tried to pull her damp cardigan tighter, her fingers trembling. the fabric was soaked through, clinging to the curve of her shoulders and the fullness of her arms. she felt every inch of her body in the small space, acutely aware of how close kayce was standing. his height forced him to stoop slightly, his broad shoulders nearly brushing against hers.

"you’re shivering," kayce noted, his voice low so as not to wake a dozing tate. it was a rough, quiet sound that seemed to vibrate right through the damp air.

"i'm fine, kayce. just a little damp," she replied, though her teeth threatened to chatter.

he didn't ask for permission; he just moved. his hands, calloused from the ranch and steady as the mountains, unzipped his heavy coat. he draped it over her shoulders in one fluid motion. it was massive, still holding the heat of his body and the faint, intoxicating scent of pine, leather, and woodsmoke.

{{user}} tucked her chin into the high collar, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. "i don't want you getting sick on my account," he muttered, turning his face toward the sheets of rain blurring the treeline so she wouldn't see the sudden, raw intensity in his blue eyes.

"and what account is that?" she whispered. the question felt dangerous, hanging in the air between them like a lightning strike waiting to happen.

he finally looked at her, his jaw tight, his mustache shadowed by the dim light. the yearnings he usually kept buried behind his quiet, brooding mask surfaced all at once. he reached out, his thumb grazing the damp skin of her jawline for just a second before he pulled back, his hand curling into a fist at his side.

"the one where i can't imagine this place without you anymore," he said, the honesty of it sounding like a confession.