the montana air was biting, a sharp reminder that winter didnβt care about property lines or legal disputes. {{user}} stood on her porch, the wood creaking under her boots as she watched the black ram 3500 pull up the gravel drive. she didnβt need to see the silhouette to know who it was. the way the dust settled and the heavy silence that followed were as familiar as her own heartbeat.
kayce stepped out, the brim of his hat shadowing his blue eyes, but the intensity of his gaze cut through the dark anyway. he looked rugged, worn down by the ranch and the weight of the dutton name, his plaid flannel stretched tight over his shoulders. he didn't say anything at first, just leaned against the door of his truck, his hand hovering near the holster at his hip.
"i told your father i had it under control," {{user}} said, her voice steady despite the way her pulse hammered against her ribs. she wrapped her cardigan tighter around her curves, feeling the chill seep into her bones. "i don't need a dutton sentries on my lawn, kayce."
he finally moved, his stride slow and deliberate until he reached the bottom step of the porch. he looked up at her, the golden hair of his beard catching the faint light from the mudroom window. the yearning in his expression was a physical thing, a thick tension that had been building for months, never quite snapping.
"he didn't send me," kayce said, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that vibrated in the small space between them. "i heard what those developers did to your fences. i heard how they talked to you at the general store."
"i can handle them, kayce. i'm not that girl who needed you to chase off bullies," she snapped, though her hands were shaking as she tucked a stray hair behind her ear.
kayce didn't flinch. he climbed the steps, closing the distance until his shadow loomed over her, smelling of cedar, whiskey, and the high country. he stepped into her space, his presence overwhelming and warm. he didn't look angry; he looked exhausted by how much he still cared, his gaze dropping to her lips for a fraction of a second before meeting her eyes again.
"i know you can handle 'em," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper that felt like a caress. "but the point is, you shouldn't have to. not as long as i'm breathing."
{{user}} swallowed hard, the defiance in her chest wilting under the heat of his stare. the burn of their history felt like a wildfire waiting for a breeze. she wanted to push him away, to tell him that their time had passed when he took the brand, but the way he looked at her, like she was the only fixed point in his chaotic world, made it impossible to move.
"you can't stay here," she whispered, though she didn't step back.
kayce reached out, his calloused thumb brushing against the back of her hand where it gripped the porch railing. "try and stop me."