Page 31 of Forbidden Rancher's Return
"Yes."
"You sure?"
"No."
Her mouth twitches. "You're flooding it."
"I'm warming it."
"You're flooding it."
I glanced over to her. She lifts one eyebrow. The same stubborn expression she's worn since she was sixteen and climbing fences faster than anyone on the ridge.
I wait five seconds, then I pull the cord again.
The engine roars to life.
Calla laughs. Soft, surprised, genuine. The sound goes through me like nothing else has in eight years.
The lantern light catches her smile and the years fall away. She's just Calla. And I'm just the man who never stopped wanting to make her laugh like that.
The generator kicks power back toward the house. The porch light flashes on, then off, then on again.
"That'll hold," she says.
"For now."
The engine hums between us. Outside, the storm doubles down. Rain sheeting sideways, wind pushing hard against the shed walls. Calla doesn't move toward the door.
Neither do I.
The space between us has been shrinking all day. Here in the small shed, with the lantern throwing gold light across her skin and the storm sealing us in, it closes completely.
"You stepped away at the stream," she says.
"Yes."
"You didn't want to."
"No."
The honesty that sits between us, heavy and warm.
Calla's breath slows. Her eyes move over my face the way they do when she already knows the answer but needs to hear it.
"You're doing it again."
"Yes."
"Why."
My chest goes tight. Because the shed is small. Because the lantern light turns her eyes dark. Because if I close the distance between us right now I won't stop at a kiss, and I know that as clearly as I've ever known anything.
"Because if I don't," I say quietly, "I won't stop."
Her lips part slightly. Her hand lifts from her side and her fingers brush my wrist. Light. Testing.
"Maybe you shouldn't."
