the wooden slats of the old line shack groaned under the weight of the montana downpour, the sound of rain hitting the tin roof like a thousand silver hammers. inside, the air was thick with the scent of damp earth, dried hay, and the sharp, familiar musk of horses. {{user}} stood by the small, fogged window, hugging her arms across her chest as she watched the creek turn into a rushing brown river.

behind her, she heard the heavy thud of kayce’s boots against the floorboards. he moved with that quiet, prowling grace he’d always had, his shadow stretching long against the wall in the dim light. he reached out, draped a heavy blanket over her shoulders, and for a heartbeat, his calloused fingers lingered against the curve of her arm. the heat from his touch seared through her damp shirt, making her breath hitch in the small space.

"you should go home, kayce," she whispered, her voice barely carrying over the storm. "monica’s probably wondering where you are."

kayce didn't pull his hand away immediately. he stood close enough that she could feel the radiator-heat coming off his frame, his blue eyes tracking the way the blanket settled over her. he looked rugged, his face lined with a weariness that hadn't been there three years ago, his blonde beard damp from the ride.

"the creek's too high to cross," he said, his voice low and gravelly, vibrating in the narrow room. "i’m not going anywhere."

{{user}} turned slightly, her shoulder brushing his chest. the physical proximity felt like a physical weight, a tension that had been building every time they passed each other on the ranch. she looked up at him, her heart thumping a steady, frantic rhythm against her ribs.

"you always did have an excuse for staying right where you weren't supposed to be," she murmured, a ghost of a sad smile touching her lips.

kayce stepped closer, closing the last bit of distance until his belt buckle nearly brushed her waist. he looked down at her with an intensity that made the rest of the world fall away, his hand moving from her shoulder to catch a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

"maybe i’m just tired of running from things that don't want to be caught," he replied, his gaze dropping to her mouth.