A giddy squeal escapes before I can stop it, and I throw myself into a ridiculous celebration, bouncing on the bedlike a baboon, limbs flailing, cash flying everywhere. I land in a heap, breathless and laughing.
I have to tell Carter.
I scramble off the bed, scoop up bills, and stuff them back into the drawer I’ve been using as a makeshift safe. My hands are shaking, my heart still hammering in my chest, and I don’t even bother throwing shoes on as I bolt out of the room.
I dash across the lawn, past the porch, barefoot and free-spirited. The sun sinks low in the sky, casting a warm glow over the fields in shades of burnt honey and red-orange. The air carries the scent of fresh earth and sweet hay, accompanied by the faint hum of insects buzzing in the golden hour light. The ground feels warm beneath my feet, with cool, damp patches of grass where morning dew still lingers. It tickles my ankles as I run, my heart pounding in my chest as if it might burst from all this joy.
Each stride sends a rush through my veins, the breeze sweeping through my hair, and the warm sun wrapping around my shoulders.
Daisies and buttercups blur in my periphery as I sprint across the field, my lungs drawing in air that tastes like freedom.
I spot him near the stalls, brushing down Toffee. His sports cap is turned backward… sweet Lord, have mercy. That backward hat is a fucking crime. The sleeves of his Henley are pushed up, his tattooed forearms flexing with each pass of the brush.
My legs nearly gave out.
“Carter!” I yell, flailing my arms in the air like a lunatic.
He looks up slowly, his eyes locking onto mine. That crooked grin tugs at the corner of his mouth, the kind thathits me straight in the chest like a sucker punch. “Yeah, darlin’?”
I skid to a stop in front of him, breathless, my cheeks tinged with red from running like a beast. “I fucking did it. I have enough. For rent. First, last, and all the damn months. I counted it like… five times. It’s real. I can actually do this.”
His expression shifts, softening in that way that always undoes me. That private look he reserves just for me. “That’s my girl,” he murmurs, pride thick in his voice. “Put it in an envelope. I’ll take it to Linda tomorrow.”
My smile falters as my brows knit. “Wait, why can’t I do it? I want to pick up the keys myself. I want it to feel official.”
He shakes his head and walks past me, leading Toffee by the reins as she clops steadily beside him, heading for the barn doors and back to her stall.
“You’re being a fucking weirdo.”
“Only for you, baby,” he says, clicking Toffee’s stall shut behind her.
“No, like yo-.”
I don’t get the chance to finish. His hands are suddenly on my waist, spinning me around with effortless force until I’m flush against his chest. The suddenness steals the breath right from my lungs. His hand braces the barn wall, as the other runs a slow, deliberate path over my lower lip before gently tilting my chin up.
“Stop questioning me and kiss me, darlin’,” he says, his voice sweet like honey.
Toffee lets out a sharp neigh, stomping her hoof like she’s personally offended by the lack of attention.
Carter smirks and glances over his shoulder. “Hold on, Toffee,” he drawls, “let me kiss my girl first.”
She huffs again, but he’s already turning toward me.
I smile, but it barely lasts a second before he leans in, capturing my mouth with his. His lips drag against mine with purpose, his tongue tracing the curvature of my mouth until I give in, melting into him like I always do. My fingers grip the fabric of his shirt, pulling him impossibly closer.
He lifts me, hoisting me up and pins me effortlessly against the barn wall in one smooth, practiced motion. His hips press between my thighs, holding me there. A soft moan slips out of me, muffled against his mouth, but just as quickly, he pulls back.
He gently tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, brushing it back with a tenderness that makes my chest flutter, and rests his forehead against mine.
“What’s wrong?” I whisper, searching his face.
He shakes his head, his voice soft and full of something that makes my heart tighten. “I’m just really fucking proud of you.”
My lips part like I’m about to speak, but I shut them again just as fast. He’s proud of me. If that doesn’t scream daddy issues, I don’t know what does—but I don’t fucking care. I need this.
God, I needed to hear that.
My throat grows thick with emotion, but I swallow it down. Still, I manage to meet his eyes. His expression is soft, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, those light blue eyes crinkling at the edges.
