Sunlight (Haven River Ranch)

My head felt two sizes too big. My nostrils were raw from so much nose blowing. Every time I swallowed, it felt like razor blades scraped along my throat, and damn it, this ringing in my ears was getting fucking old.

“Tell me a secret,” I said as Sasha filled a water bottle from the sink.

I asked her for a secret every single day. Every single day, she told me something trivial. But I still kept asking.

“You’re sick,” she said.

“That’s not a secret.”

She smirked. “So you’re admitting that you’re sick?”

“I’m not sick,” I muttered.

“Yes, you are, and you should stay home,” Sasha said, screwing the lid on her bottle. “I have never met anyone so set on denying the obvious, but Jax, you’re sick.”

I didn’t have time to be sick. Admitting it felt like defeat, so I refused. “I’m fine.”

She rolled her eyes. “Go back to bed.”

Bed was exactly where I wanted to spend my day. But . . .

“I can’t.” I sighed and grabbed my coffee cup.

Grandpa had called last night and asked if I could ride his new horse this morning. Apparently, when he’d gone out yesterday, his gelding had acted like a shithead, nearly bucking Grandpa off.

My grandmother had banned him from riding the horse again, but now we had to decide if we were going to keep the animal or sell him. West was swamped with haying all week. The resort was a goddamn madhouse with the summer rush, so I couldn’t spare a guide to do it.

So I was going out there before my stubborn father jumped in to “help.” He wasn’t as young as he liked to think he still was, and the last thing we needed was a wreck where he got injured.

Besides that, I’d mostly avoided my grandparents for nearly two months. Ever since I’d told them about Sasha and the baby, our conversations had been limited. A phone call here and there to say hello. We’d crossed paths at the lodge a few weeks ago. I’d even stopped bringing Grandpa his weekly lotto tickets.

The last time I’d gone to their house had been the casserole night. It felt like yesterday, not over a month.

Time was moving too fast.

Sasha had been living with me since the end of May. Emery had texted me last night that she’d found a cute new place in town and was meeting with a real estate agent today to put in an offer. But even after she moved out of the cabin, Sasha was under my roof.

Indefinitely.

The baby was due in three months. Which meant I had three months to get her to sink into this thing between us. Three months to keep chipping away at those walls.

They were coming down, inch by inch, but this routine we’d fallen into lately felt precarious, like it was just a matter of time until something came along and fucked it up.

If that thing was a snide or rude comment from my grandparents, I’d lose my mind. Not that I expected them to be anything except polite to her, but I wasn’t taking chances.

It was time to clear the air. Whether I felt like shit or not.

“Want to meet me for lunch?” I asked Sasha.

“No, I want you to do whatever it is that you have to do, then come home and sleep.” She put her hand on my cheek, her thumb tracing the line of my jaw. “But since I don’t think you’ll listen to me, then yes, we can meet for lunch.”

“I’ll come to the lodge.” I dropped a kiss to her forehead, then followed her to the garage.

She’d protested parking inside. It had taken me three nights of orgasms to convince her to hang the spare door opener on her visor. But I’d won out.

Sasha might be stubborn, but I had her beat.

“Take it easy today,” she said as she opened her door.

“That’s my line, sweetheart.”

“I mean it, Jax. You’re sick.”

“I’m not sick,” I lied.

She gave me another long, loud sigh. Then she went to her car and slid behind the wheel.

But I didn’t go to my truck in the next bay. I walked outside, following the line of her tires until I was in the driveway.

The July morning air did wonders to clear my head. I inhaled, holding it in my lungs, as I tipped my face to the clear blue sky and let the sun warm my face.

On my next inhale, a cough erupted from my chest, sending me into a hacking fit that doubled me in half.

Fuck. I was sick.

I didn’t have time to be sick. I didn’t want Sasha to get sick, which was why I had a kink in my neck from sleeping in the guest bedroom for the past two nights.

My head was in a fog, but I shoved through the haze and got to work. I went to the stables first, giving all of the guides a wide berth because we couldn’t afford to have this cold to run through the staff, not with fully booked excursions from dawn to dusk.

After ensuring everyone had their orders for the day, I retreated to my office for an hour of paperwork. When the summary sheets began to blur together, I loaded up my saddle and spurs, then drove to my grandparents’ house.

They met me at the door before I had the chance to knock.

“Mornin’.” Grandpa shook my hand.

Grandma narrowed her eyes at my face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“You sound sick.”

I waved it off. “I’m fine.”

She pursed her lips. “I’ll make you soup.”

“You don’t need to. Sasha made chicken noodle last night.” And not that I’d tell Grandma, but it was the best damn chicken noodle soup I’d ever tasted.

“So you two are . . .” Grandpa trailed off so I could finish his sentence.

“Living together. Having a baby. Still not getting married.”

His frown pissed me right the fuck off.

“You know what? Get the hell over it,” I barked. “I realize this isn’t the traditional path to a family, but guess what? My origin story isn’t exactly traditional either. Sasha is important to me. So figure out a way to support us both. Or you can forget about having much to do with your great-granddaughter.”

It was the harshest I’d ever spoken to my grandparents—the head cold was to blame. I was not about to keep my child away from them, but if I had to make idle threats so they’d pull the sticks out of their asses, so be it.

They shared a look and, with it, one of their famous silent conversations. That many years married, living together, they could probably read each other’s thoughts by now.

Grandma broke first, her eyes softening. “Can you bring Sasha over for dinner?”

“Yes.” I nodded. “Dinner would be great. She likes cheeseburgers.”

“You like cheeseburgers.” She scoffed. “What does she actually like?”

“Anything but grilled cheese.”

Sasha had eaten the sandwich I’d made her, but I suspected it was because she’d slathered it in strawberry jam.

“Okay. I’ll make your favorite pot roast.” Grandma elbowed my grandfather in the ribs.

“Oof.” He grunted, but the frown disappeared. “Sorry. We’ll be supportive.”

“Appreciated.” I pulled the leather gloves out of my jeans pocket. “So where is this horse?”

“We’re keeping this horse,” I told West, my phone pressed to my ear as I rode Grandpa’s gelding through a meadow.

“Thought it was a shit.”

“He’s definitely got an iron will, but I like him.” Not for Grandpa, but myself. And maybe, after he settled and matured a bit, after I’d spent countless hours riding him around the ranch, he’d be a good horse for Sasha.

His personality reminded me of her a bit. Strong. Stubborn. Graceful. Smart.

The sound of an engine hummed in the background on the other end of the line. West was probably in a swather somewhere, cutting hay.

It didn’t matter to him that his wife was filthy rich. It didn’t matter that he had hired hands who could do the bulk of the haying each summer. My brother wasn’t the sort to sit idle when there was work to be done.

I guess we had that in common. “I’m going to ride him to the stables. Check in on everything. Then probably put him out with your horse, if that’s okay.”

“Fine by me,” he said. “How busy are you today? I had an idea and wanted to get your take on it.”

“About?”

“Running some yearlings. I’ve been looking at cattle prices, and we’ve got so much grass at the moment. It might make sense.”

“I’ve got time to talk.”

“Sounds great. I should be done here shortly. I’ll meet you at the stables.”

“See you in a few.” I ended the call and shifted on my saddle, tucking the phone into a jeans pocket. Then I steered the black gelding toward the river so we could head to the stables.

West didn’t need my input on the ranch. It was his to run and manage, and while I owned my own acreage, the bulk of the land was under his name.

But West included me in decisions anyway. He asked for my opinion, even though he had the final say.

It was a far cry from how the ranch had been run under Dad’s charge. Dad hadn’t been the type to take advice, at least not from his sons.

But that, along with so much else, had changed in the past seven years.

For the better. Thanks to Indya. Thanks to West.

And lately, thanks to Sasha.

Indya might have returned from her maternity leave, but she wasn’t working full time. Not with the boys home for summer break and Grace so young. So while Indya was spending more time at home with her kids, Sasha ran the resort like it was her own.

Indya had done a hell of a job building out this business. But she’d also moved quickly. There’d been a frantic tempo for the past seven years, like everyone was racing from one task to the next. And Indya had been managing too much for too long.

Sasha had brought this cool, leveling energy. She was a calming force.

I don’t think anyone even realized it had been missing until she showed up. Just like I hadn’t realized how lonely I was until she came into my life.

The idea of going back to casual hookups and meaningless nights made my skin crawl.

I wanted Sasha’s car parked next to mine in the garage. I wanted her shoes on the mat beside my boots. I wanted her shampoo on the shower shelf and to find stray hairs in my bathroom sink.

I was falling for her.

Hell, I’d already fallen.

It would have been the best feeling in the universe, except I had no idea if she was falling too.

Sasha was affectionate. She touched me as often as I touched her. The sex was out of this fucking world. But I kept replaying the conversation from last month.

I’m scared of what this will be like when it ends.

She was so sure it would end. Why? What the hell had happened in her past?

There was someone. She related too closely to Emery for there not to have been someone in her past.

Who’d hurt her? How many times would I have to beg for a secret until she actually told me the truth?

Three months. That’s all we had left together. Then there’d be three of us. Then everything would be different.

Three months.

It wasn’t going to be enough, was it? What if we needed more time?

My phone rang in my pocket, the noise causing the gelding to jerk. I dug it out, an unknown number on the screen. My thumb hovered over the red button, about to decline it, but then the horse spooked.

One moment I was in my saddle. The next I was flying through the air, landing on the ground so hard it knocked the air from my lungs.

The horse thundered off through the meadow, running like a grizzly bear was on his heels.

“What the fuck?” I hissed, sucking in a breath. Pain exploded through my shoulder as I shifted, and damn it, my arm wouldn’t work right. It hung limp against my side, the ache so fierce it made my head spin.

Shit. This was bad. My shoulder was probably dislocated. All because of that fucking horse.

It kept running, getting smaller and smaller in the distance.

Gritting my teeth, I forced myself up to a seat.

The spinning got faster. Something wet dripped down my neck.

With my good arm, I reached to feel the back of my head. The last thing I saw before the world faded to black was my fingertips coated in blood.