Page 53 of Saddle Storm

“Obviously he knows what you do, but these daily run-ins, or visits, or dinners . . . could leave him disappointed in a way he’s not prepared for.”

He nods, lifting his gaze to mine. “Because once I go, I’m not coming back, right?”

My lips part.

“It’s okay. I get it,” he says softly and it’s a relief because I don’t want to upset him. “To be honest, Storm, I didn’t think that far ahead.” He runs his hand down his face. “And perhaps I should have.” His mind works for a beat, glancing back at the bedroom like he wants to plead his case, but then shakes it. “But what I need to ask you has to do with you and Max—not me.”

I frown. “Um . . . All right.”

He steps closer, stopping two feet away from me. “I want to move you and Max into a guest cottage at the ranch.”

I blink. “What?”

“Storm, this apartment—this building, it’s—”

“It’s none of your business. I realize you’re used to five-star hotels and luxury high-rises, but you need a little bit of a reality check, Silas. Not everyone lives like that. Max and I are comfortable here. I take good care of him.”

“You’re amazing with him,” he reassures, stepping closer. “Storm, he’s the best kid I’ve ever met. He’s respectful, insightful, and that was all before I knew he was yours.” He licks his lips. “No one will ever question what kind of mother you are.”

I blink back the threat of tears because I don’t hear this often.

“But it’s too far from the schools, it’s far from the ranch.” He glances back at the windows. “And I don’t know how safe it is.”

I blink as I feel a migraine coming on. Pinching the bridge of my nose to calm myself, I tell him, “I appreciate your concern. But I’m not moving. First off, those cottages close for the season in a few weeks, second, a week’s booking is worth a month’s rent for me here.”

“You won’t be paying for it.”

“Oh, now you want to pay rent for me?” I straighten, leveling my voice. “Get out.”

“Storm. Stop being so defensive and stubborn and hear me out.”

A chill runs through me.

Am I coming down with a fever?

“Do you have any idea how insulting this is?” I shriek, damn near waking the child asleep in the other room.

“You’re one of the few people in this town I respect. I’d never insult you,” he growls. It’s so out of character, I nearly flinch.

“I literally just asked you to keep your distance from me and Max and you follow it with asking me to move into your family’s ranch?”

He’s shameless the way he watches me like there’s nothing wrong with what he’s asking.

I take a deep breath.

“Dallas and Wilder are on board.”

I laugh, twisting to grip the edge of the kitchen counter. “Oh my God.” Feeling like I’m on the verge of hyperventilating, I take a few breaths. But they don’t help. What is happening?

Everything feels heavy and my knees give out before strong arms catch me.

“Storm,” he breathes as he sweeps me off my feet and into his arms. A groan vibrates off his throat as he moves me to the couch and it takes me a moment to realize what it was.

“Your arm,” I whisper, my eyelids falling.

“I’m fine,” he says softly, kneeling beside me, hand on my forehead. “What happened? Can you open your eyes?”

I manage to.