the yellowstone ranch was loud, filled with the rare sound of laughter and the heavy beat of boots against the wooden porch as the hands celebrated another week of survival. {{user}} stepped away from the light of the house, her boots crunching softly on the dry earth until she reached the fence line. she leaned against the rough timber, letting the cool montana air settle over her skin. the music from a nearby truck radio was just a faint, twanging melody out here, competing with the crickets.

she didn't hear him approach, but she felt him. the air seemed to shift, growing heavier and warmer as rip settled into the space beside her. he looked like a shadow carved from the night itself in his dark jacket, the silver dutton brand on his chest catching the faint starlight.

"you look like you're a thousand miles away," rip said, his voice a low rumble that vibrated in his chest.

{{user}} didn't turn her head, though she could feel the heat radiating from his muscular frame. "just thinking. it’s quiet out here. different from the noise at the taproom."

rip shifted, his holster creaking as he moved. he wasn't a man who belonged at parties or under bright lights; he was a creature of the dirt and the quiet. he looked at her, his piercing blue eyes tracking the line of her profile. to him, she wasn't just the woman behind the bar; she was the only soft thing in a world that usually felt like jagged glass.

"i'm not much for the spectacle," he admitted, his voice rougher than usual. he held out a calloused hand, the gesture hesitant and entirely out of character for a man who usually took what he wanted without asking. "but i’d like to dance with you. just once. where nobody’s looking."

{{user}} let out a small, breathless laugh, finally turning to face him. her heart hammered against her ribs as she looked at the hand offered to her. "rip wheeler, are you asking me to slow dance in the middle of a dark field?"

he didn't smile, but the intensity in his gaze deepened, his stoic expression softening just enough for her to see the yearning he usually kept locked behind his teeth.

"i'm asking you to let me hold you for three minutes without a bar top between us," he whispered, stepping closer until the toes of his boots brushed hers. "if that’s alright with you."