The morning started in a tangle of warm limbs and heavy sleep, but the ranch didn't wait for romance. I managed to slip away from Cash and Colt—who were still half-dead to the world—to get the foals fed. The routine was steadying, but the sudden appearance of Blake was the breath of fresh air I didn't know I needed.
Blake had been my anchor long before the twins showed up with their complicated promises and intense stares. Riding bareback with him, racing toward our old oak tree, felt like reclaiming a piece of myself that had been buried under chores and relationship drama all summer.
"I don't need their permission," I told him, sitting high on our favorite branch. "I'm a grown woman. They can kiss arse if they think they've got control over me."
But the bravado I felt out in the pasture wavered the second we walked back into the barn. The air was thick enough to cut with a dull knife. Cash and Colt were standing there, their arms crossed, looking like two matching statues of thunder.
"Cam," one of them growled—I think it was Colt, his temper usually a hair shorter than his brother's.
I felt Blake shift beside me, his shoulders squaring up. He didn't know these men, not really. He only knew they were the ones who had occupied my time and my heart while he was away working. He was my best friend, my "rock," and his protective instinct was flaring up in the face of their silent interrogation.
I looked at the twins, then back at Blake. It was a jarring realization. I had spent weeks falling for the way Cash and Colt took care of me, the way they moved as one, and the way they had pledged themselves to me in that pond. But standing next to Blake, the history we shared felt heavy and solid.
The truth was, as much as the twins had integrated into my life, there was still so much I didn't know about them—and even more they didn't know about the girl I was when I was just with Blake.
"We were just checking the fence lines," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. I didn't offer an apology. I didn't owe them one for spending time with my best friend.
Cash stepped forward, his eyes flicking from me to Blake with a calculated coolness. "Grandpa was looking for you. Said something about town errands."
"Blake already offered," I countered, crossing my arms to match theirs.
The tension in the barn was a physical weight. The twins were used to being my world lately, but Blake was a reminder that I had a life before them—and a mind of my own.