It was late afternoon, the sun sinking low enough to stretch long shadows across the open fields. The sky had softened into shades of amber and rose, the kind of light that made everything feel slower, heavier—like the day itself was reluctant to end.

You sat perched on the top rail of the fence, boots hooked loosely around the weathered wood, arms resting behind you for balance. From here, you had a perfect view of the corral.

Cade was finishing up with one of the younger horses, his movements calm and deliberate. Dust rose with every step the colt took, swirling around his boots and catching the light like gold drifting in the air. He murmured low, steady words to the horse, one hand firm on the reins, the other relaxed at his side. There was something grounding about watching him work—like the rest of the world narrowed down to this small moment.

You’d been there a while before he noticed.

When he finally glanced over, you saw it—the brief flicker of surprise, then the way his shoulders loosened, tension easing out of him. A slow grin spread across his face, easy and familiar.

“Well,” he called, voice carrying easily across the corral, “look who finally decided to show up.”

You snorted softly, pushing off the fence just enough to swing one leg idly. “I’ve been here,” you said. “You’re just really focused when you want to be.”

“Oh, I’m sure that’s it,” Cade replied with a chuckle. He nudged the colt forward, guiding him closer to the fence. “Definitely not my fault.”

The horse came to a smooth stop beside you, snorting quietly as Cade leaned forward in the saddle. Up close, you caught the scent of leather and dust, sun-warmed cotton clinging to him like the day itself hadn’t quite let go.

“You look wiped,” you said, studying him.

He shrugged, rolling one shoulder. “Long day. Colt’s got opinions.”

“Clearly,” you murmured, glancing at the horse as it flicked an ear.

Cade smiled at that, then looked back at you. “But seein’ you makes it better.”

You raised a brow. “That so?”

“Yeah,” he said easily. “That so.”

Before you could reply, he reached out. His hand settled at your waist like it belonged there—steady, familiar, warm. The touch caught you off guard just enough to make you inhale sharply.

“Hey,” you warned lightly, fingers tightening around the fence rail. “You’re gonna knock me off.”

Cade’s thumb brushed your side, slow and intentional. “I’ve got you,” he said, tone softening. “Always do.”

You laughed under your breath, though your pulse picked up. “Careful,” you said. “You’re gonna make me think you missed me.”

His eyes held yours, the teasing giving way to something quieter. “What if I did?”

The space between you seemed to hum with it—unspoken things hanging in the warm air, the sounds of the ranch fading into the background.

You swallowed. “Yeah?” you asked softly.

“Yeah,” he replied, just as quietly.

He tugged you closer, only an inch, but it was enough. Your boots brushed the stirrup, his knee pressed warm against the fence, his presence wrapping around you like the last light of day.

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

Then Cade tilted his head toward the horizon. “Sun’s still up,” he said. “Barely.”

You followed his gaze, the sky glowing in defiance of the coming dark.

He looked back at you, smile slow and hopeful. “Come on, {{user}},” he said gently. “Take a ride with me before it’s gone.”