Sunlight (Haven River Ranch)

The rodeo emcee’s voice blared through the speakers at the fairgrounds, mingling with laughter and conversation and the buzz from the crowd.

To my left, the stands were crammed with people watching the team roping event in the arena. To my right, concession stands were lined up in a row. And at my side, Sasha walked with her hand in mine. The evening sun shone in the distance, but it paled in comparison to the glow on her face.

It had been about two months since the day I’d landed myself in the ER after getting bucked off that horse. And somehow, Sasha became more beautiful each day. I’d known pregnant women before, but Sasha put them all to shame.

Her belly stretched the cotton of her black T-shirt dress. The long sleeves were pushed up her forearms, and she’d pulled her hair into a high ponytail earlier when she’d complained about being too hot. The weather in early September was still warm, but by the time the sun set later, there’d be a chill.

She had on tennis shoes. I’d had to tie the laces for her at home because she couldn’t reach her feet anymore.

Her days of fast walking were on pause. She meandered, the slow stride either because she was busy soaking in the spectacle or because she was getting tired. Probably both.

Between the chaos at work and the energy zapped by the baby, she usually crashed each night around nine, after we ate dinner and I gave her an orgasm.

“Funnel cake or mini doughnuts?” I asked her. The scents of fried bread and sugar and cinnamon hung in the air as we passed the booth selling both.

“Doughnuts.” She rubbed her side. “Or nothing. I’m hungry, but there isn’t any more room.”

“We’ll get doughnuts. I’ll eat whatever you don’t.”

“Okay.” She leaned her head against my arm as she yawned.

“You want to cut out early? Go home?” For the first time in my life, I wouldn’t object to leaving the Big Timber Rodeo early. Not if it meant we could be alone.

“No.” She shook her head. “This is an experience. I like these adventures where you get me to fall in love with Montana.”

That wasn’t the only purpose of these adventures, as she called them. I needed her to fall in love with me too.

To catch up to the place where I’d been for a while. Maybe since the day I’d watched her battle Carla over that shopping cart.

We had just over a month left before the baby was born. Sasha hadn’t moved out, even after Emery had left the cabin for her new house in town. I was taking that as a good sign.

But I still didn’t know how Sasha felt. And I hadn’t worked up the courage to tell her how I felt either.

It was there, on the tip of my tongue each night, but something was holding me back. Something I couldn’t explain.

Maybe because I couldn’t remember the last time I’d said those three words.

As a kid, I’d told Lily that I loved her. I think she’d probably said it back, but I couldn’t remember. Dad was not the type of man who said I love you often, especially to his adult sons. West said it all the time to his wife and kids. To me? Nah. We were brothers, raised by the same man, and it wasn’t something we told each other either.

Was it the lack of practice? Or was I just scared because I honestly didn’t know if Sasha would say it back?

Self-preservation had won out, and at the moment, I was simply glad she’d hold my hand in public. That I could kiss her whenever she walked into a room.

We got in line for mini doughnuts, and I shifted to stand behind her, wrapping an arm around her chest so she could lean back against me.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“You seem quiet tonight.”

“All good, honey.” I kissed her hair.

“What’s your favorite time of day?” she asked, her hands coming to my forearms.

“Sundown.” I let my gaze wander past the fairgrounds and to the Crazy Mountains in the distance. Their jagged peaks were lit in gold as the sun skimmed their tips.

“Why sundown?”

“That’s when all the pretty girls come out to play.”

“Seriously?” She jabbed her elbow into my ribs. “Jax.”

“I’m kidding.” I chuckled. “I like the end of a long day. Maybe because I feel like I’m always rushing out the door in the mornings, always in a hurry to get the day started. But usually by sundown, there’s nothing to do but stop and breathe. Take a moment to celebrate the victories, even if they’re small. Enjoy those last few rays of magnificent sunlight.”

Sasha craned her neck to meet my gaze. “I like that.”

“What’s your favorite time of day?”

She looked to the same place I had a moment ago, soaking in the orange and yellow and pink and blue of sunset. “It would be cliché to say sundown now, so I’ll say midnight.”

“When you’re fast asleep.”

“When all the boys come out to play.” She giggled.

I laughed, too, bending to kiss her cheek as we shuffled forward to place our order.

We were good together. So fucking good. She felt that, right? She knew we had something special here that wasn’t just because of the baby?

I’d want her whether she was pregnant or not.

Her hand dropped from my arm, her palm settling on my thigh. Even through my jeans, I felt the heat from her touch.

She felt it. She had to feel it.

“Jax.” Sasha slipped out of my grip. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“All good,” I lied, shoving worries aside and placing our order. Then, with a paper boat of cinnamon-and-sugar-coated mini doughnuts in hand, we settled back into our stroll, wandering toward the beer gardens.

West and Indya were somewhere in the fray. They’d left the kids at home tonight with Lily as their babysitter. Dad was probably in the gardens with them. My grandparents were sitting where we’d left them in the stands.

We’d gone to dinner at Grandma and Grandpa’s place twice in the past two months. One look at Sasha’s belly and they’d been on their best behavior. Grandpa had been working on a pair of custom leather booties for the baby. Grandma stopped by the lodge at least once a week with some sort of treat for Sasha, cookies or cake or pie.

My family had embraced her, exactly as I’d asked. They were hers, as much as they were mine.

All she had to do was let them in.

Not that they saw the guard she wouldn’t drop. Sasha was nothing but polite and gracious. But I saw the distance she kept. She didn’t willingly seek them out. They were . . . friends.

Even Indya.

But they weren’t family. Not yet.

Maybe that was simply because Indya was her boss, and this was all so damn new. But I felt an underlying hesitancy. A fear that if she got too close, she’d lose them too.

Or maybe these were my own fears, and I was projecting. It was likely nerves about the baby, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was coming. Something would fuck up the good we’d found over the past couple of months.

“Jax, do you want to leave?”

“What? No.” Sort of.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. “You’ve been . . . broody tonight.”

“Broody.” I arched an eyebrow. “You must have me confused with West.”

“West isn’t broody.”

“You didn’t know him before Indya.”

She sighed. “Nice deflection.”

“I’m fine.” I brushed a bit of cinnamon and sugar from the corner of her mouth. “Guess I’m just tired too. It’s been a long week.”

We were still in the thick of the busy season even though the calendar had flipped to September. Rather than entertain families on summer vacations, we were hosting larger groups of adults.

A party of fifteen guys in their thirties had arrived yesterday for some sort of reunion to spend a week hiking, riding, and fishing. There were two more wedding parties later this month, and both had sold out the lodge.

Sasha hadn’t slowed a bit, even with her October due date rapidly approaching. Indya would be covering the bulk of Sasha’s workload while she was on maternity leave. Tara and the other managers would step in to help. But Sasha was doing everything possible to prepare for her absence. She worked so frantically it was like she was scared her job wouldn’t be waiting.

It would be there. For her, it would always be there.

For her, I’d be there too. Always.

“Want to build the crib tomorrow?” I asked her.

“Oh, um, I was planning on working tomorrow.”

Tomorrow was Saturday, but I wasn’t going to point that out. “We’ll do it when you’re done.”

“Okay.” Except she sounded like she’d rather do anything else.

The nursery at the house was a mess of gift bags and boxes at the moment. Indya had thrown Sasha a baby shower last month, and the generosity of not only Indya but everyone at the resort had shocked even me. It wasn’t just clothes and diapers. They’d even bought us some furniture.

The pile of presents in the middle of the nursery’s floor was practically a mountain.

I’d assumed the reason Sasha hadn’t started clearing the mess was because she’d been so tired. Or maybe it was overwhelming.

The disarray was beginning to grate on my nerves.

The nursery, along with the primary suite, was one of the bedrooms I’d added onto the house during the remodel. It had been a guest room, but I’d moved the actual bed and other furniture to storage.

Didn’t Sasha want to decorate? Organize? Weren’t pregnant women supposed to go through a nesting phase? If anything, she seemed to be avoiding that room. Why?

“Why don’t you want to build—” Before I could ask what she was thinking, a commotion at the beer gardens stole my attention.

Calvin came stumbling out of the entrance backward, like someone had shoved him through the gap in the fenced area.

“Hell,” I muttered.

Sasha stopped, her hand tightening in mine.

I shifted and angled my body in front of hers as Calvin regained his balance. Well, sort of.

He swayed on his feet as he shuffled away from the gardens, lifting a hand to flip off someone inside. “Fuck off.”

Someone hollered back the same.

He sneered but walked away, two steps, then three. The moment he faced forward and looked up, he spotted us and stopped. Calvin’s lip curled. His eyes were glassy. His face red.

“Shit. He’s drunk.”

I gripped Sasha’s hand, about to leave because the last damn thing I needed with my pregnant girlfriend—was she my girlfriend?—was drunk-asshole drama.

But before we could turn around, Calvin barked my name. “Haven. Figured you’d be here. Surprised you’re not with my wife.”

“Ex-wife.” Or soon to be. Emery had filed the papers, and now they were just waiting for the divorce to be finalized.

Calvin came closer, near enough I could smell the beer on his breath. He glared at me, then shifted his eyes to Sasha and her belly. “You don’t care that he’s been fucking Emery on the sly for years?”

“Enough, Calvin,” I snapped. “There’s nothing with Emery. Never has been.”

“Maybe not now that you knocked up this bitch.”

My reaction was instant. I dropped Sasha’s hand and the mini doughnuts. I moved so fast the motherfucker didn’t have time to blink before my fist connected with his nose and blood sprayed.

Sasha gasped.

“Fuck!” Calvin’s hands flew to his nose as he doubled over, lost his balanced, and dropped to his ass. “You broke my fucking nose!”

“Never speak about her again.” My chest heaved as the adrenaline and rage surged.

People streamed out of the beer gardens to see what was happening. West and Dad were with them, both hurrying to my side, likely to stop a full-fledged brawl once Calvin found his feet.

The intervention was unnecessary. I held up both hands and stepped back. “I’m done.”

A woman I recognized from around town rushed to Calvin’s side. “Baby, oh my God.”

Baby? Clearly, he was really hung up about Emery if he’d already moved on. Or maybe he’d been cheating on Emery for years, deflecting his own mistakes onto her. Whatever. Not my problem anymore.

“Good?” West asked.

“Yeah.” Damn it. I shook out my knuckles.

The woman helped Calvin to his feet, hoisting him up by an arm.

He shot me a glare, his nose still bleeding, but for once in his life, he made the right decision and let the woman help him toward the bathrooms.

“What was that?” Dad asked.

“He called Sasha a bitch. It pissed me off.”

“Well, that makes sense.” West glanced around. “Where is she?”

“Right—” Here. She’d been right beside me. “Sasha?”

I searched the area but couldn’t find her in the crowd. “Sasha,” I called.

No answer.

“I gotta go,” I told West and Dad, already walking away, shaking out my knuckles again as I scanned the line of concession stands.

Where’d she gone? I looked over my shoulder, about to head the other way, but a swish of dark hair streaming through the exit caught my eye.

“Sasha!”

She kept walking. Fast.

“Damn it.” I broke out into a jog, weaving past people as I ran to catch up.

She was halfway through the parking lot when I fell into step beside her.

“Babe—”

“I want to go home, Jax. Now.” Her voice was as cold as ice.

I sighed. “All right.”

We walked in silence to my truck, and even when I opened the door to help her inside, she shied away from my touch.

“I’m sorry,” I said when I climbed behind the wheel. “I shouldn’t have hit him.”

She swallowed hard, then shifted to stare out her window.

Son of a bitch. As much as I wanted to blame this on the pain in my ass that was Calvin Hill, this was on me.

“Sasha.” I waited until she looked at me. “I’m sorry.”

All she gave me was a nod. Then she stared out her window again, and with every mile of the drive home, she didn’t so much as move.

The moment I was parked in the garage, she was out the door.

I caught up to her in the mudroom, reaching out a hand to steady her while she toed off her shoes. But the moment my fingertips grazed her elbow, she stepped away.

Then she left me alone with two discarded white Nikes.

And knuckles that needed to be iced.