Page 63 of Saddle Storm

I straighten Max’s hair and fix his jacket, huffing a breath. “Be good.” I watch him run up the stairs—straight to Silas who catches him with a smile that melts my heart. His gaze sharpens when it finds mine and he gives me a reassuring wink. Then stands from his seat and heads my way.

I pull my gaze back to the man in front of me. “Yeah, I’ll take care of ’em, boss.”

“Thanks.” Wilder’s mouth curves like we’ve formed some secret alliance before leaving me alone with Silas.

I cross my arms and tilt my head. I thought seeing him after last night would feel sore and uncomfortable. I thought it would sting, maybe leave me flushed with embarrassment. Instead, there’s a strange lightness in my chest. Playful. A little hurt, yes—but not broken. Like this is just part of us, not the end of us.

“You look good in my jacket.”

“That’s why you’re not getting it back,” I quip. “Besides, I’ll need something to remember you by when there’s nothing left of you here but a puff of smoke.” I blow a puff of air at him.

He clutches his heart. “Wow, you’re really drivin’ that point home, aren’t you?”

I glance at his crisp white sneakers. “If the shoe fits.”

He licks his lips and glances over my head. “I know you’re thinking of going home today.”

“I am going home today.”

“That’s why I’m going to need your apartment keys.”

I jerk. “What the hell for?”

“To bring your things.”

“You’re not going through my things and I’m not moving.”

He smirks. “Why not? You hiding sexy toys in your drawer?”

“So my son would find them? No,” I hiss, horrified.

He strokes the scruff taking life along his jaw. “So you’ve considered them.”

“Course I have, I imagine they make those things to know what they’re doing—which is more than I can say for some men.” I let my eyes wash over him and bite back a smirk, lifting my chin as he steps further into my space.

“You can say what you want about the men you’ve been with. But don’t judge something you haven’t tried.”

I raise my brows, pushing against his chest. “Oh, I tried. And it left me disappointed.”

“Because you made us a one-night stand before giving me a chance, Storm.” Suddenly our playful retort is replaced with a charged edge.

“A chance to what?” I shrug.

We’re interrupted when a large hand touches Silas’s shoulder.

His dad’s.

“All right, you two.” He watches us both as we step back from each other. And I swear it’s déjà vu. “Now, Silas—apologize to Storm for pulling her hair.”

“I didn’t pull her hair, Dad.”

“Are you sure? Because I could have sworn you two were acting like children.”

Silas looks over sheepishly. “I’m sorry I pulled your hair.” He gives me a subtle look that says, But you deserved it.

The stubbornness in my chest eases and I can’t help my smuggish grin. “Apology accepted.”

“Great,” Connor sighs. “Now we need to settle where Sunday dinners are going to be, so—are you staying at the cottage or not?”