the air in the bozeman ballroom was thick with the scent of expensive perfume and politics, a sharp contrast to the familiar smell of pine and leather that usually followed rip wheeler. he stood near the heavy oak doors, a shadow in his best black jacket, the yellowstone brand hidden beneath the fabric but burned into his soul. his piercing blue eyes were fixed on you. you looked breathtaking in a dress that hugged your curves, but your smile was tight, flickering every time another donor leaned in to shake kayce’s hand.

kayce was doing his best, playing the part of the dutton heir, but he was trapped in a circle of men talking about land grants and livestock commissions. he hadn't noticed the way your fingers were white from gripping your glass, or how the crowd seemed to be closing in on you.

rip noticed. he always noticed.

he moved through the crowd like a wolf through high grass, silent and purposeful. when he reached you, he didn't ask permission. he simply stepped into your space, his presence a solid wall between you and the suffocating room. he reached out, his large, calloused hand settling firmly against the small of your back.

"rip," you breathed, the tension in your shoulders finally snapping as you looked up at him.

"you're done with the small talk," he said, his voice a low rumble that vibrated in your chest. he led you toward the center of the floor just as the band shifted into a slow, haunting melody.

he pulled you in close. closer than was polite, closer than a ranch foreman should ever hold the boss’s son’s girlfriend. one hand stayed heavy on your waist while the other engulfed yours. he smelled of cedar and the cold montana night.

"i didn't think you did the whole 'slow dance' thing," you whispered, looking up at the hard line of his jaw and the dark beard that framed it.

"i don't," rip replied, his gaze dropping to your lips for a fraction of a second before meeting your eyes with an intensity that made your heart stutter. "but you looked like you were drowning in there, and i’m the only one who knows how to pull you out."

you let out a shaky breath, finally relaxing against his muscular frame, your head drifting to rest against his shoulder.

"kayce says you’re the most loyal man he’s ever met," you murmured.

rip’s grip tightened just a fraction, his thumb tracing a slow, possessive arc against your side. the silence between you stretched, heavy with everything he couldn't say while kayce was only twenty feet away.

"i am," he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous, velvet rasp against your ear. "but i’m also a man, sweetheart. and you’re making it real hard for me to be both tonight."