Page 140 of Dust Storm

“Those two fuckers really deserve each other,” I muttered.

Cassandra laughed. “He doesn’t even know what’s coming. Looking back, I have no idea what I saw in him.”

“You’re not sad?”

She thought for a moment. “I’m sad that I wasted my time, but I learned my lesson. The people you should be around will make it very clear that you’re wanted and valued.”

I chuckled. “And how about the people you’re around now?”

“They smell. They wake up far too early. They’re bullheaded and stubborn and infuriating.”

“And?” I pressed as we made our way up the porch steps.

Cassandra paused at the top. “And I’ve never felt more at home.”

“Is that all you talked about with Mike?”

Slowly, she shook her head. “Not quite.”

I slid my hands around her waist and gently stroked her hip. “What else?”

“I emailed my resignation before we got on the call. He told me that he’d pass it along and get the paperwork started.” Pearly teeth sank into a crimson lip. “So, I hope that job offer still stands. And maybe the housing stipend. A commute from my apartment to the ranch is a little out of the question.”

I grinned like the luckiest son of a gun to ever live as I backed her up against the porch column and kissed her. “It stands.”

We weren’t frantically trying to get in the house, but our lazy kisses under the porch light grew needy as moths flitted overhead. Cassandra whimpered into my mouth when I dragged my hand up her thigh, hitching it around my waist.

“Tell me you’re gonna stay,” I whispered into her mouth as I cradled the back of her neck.

Cassandra nodded. “Yes.”

I grabbed the back of her thighs and picked her up as she wrapped her legs around me. “We need to set some ground rules,” I said as I carried her in and kicked the door closed behind me.

Her arms snaked around my neck. “Rules already?” She stuck her tongue out. “You’re such a dad.”

I wove through the house on silent feet before tossing her on the bed and closing—and locking—the door behind me. “I think you’ll like these.”

Cassandra shimmied up the bed.

“What’s mine is yours. My house, my?—”

“Truck?” she guessed.

“You still can’t drive stick.”

“I’m a quick learner.”

“We’ll work on it,” I promised as I undressed and climbed up with her. “I trust you. Even as we are now—no rings, no long-term vows—you’re part of this ranch. You’re part of this family. You’re part of this legacy. You want something done? You have the weight of my name in your own.”

“I already knew that,” she said with a coy little look. When I paused curiously, she said, “I overheard you telling CJ’s boys that when I first arrived.”

I cupped her jaw. “I meant every word.”

Silver eyes grew heavy as I hovered over her mouth. She nodded slowly, solemnly, and soberly. “I know.”

Piece by piece, I undressed her until we were skin-to-skin. Her breath was hot and staccato against my neck as I squeezed her breast, working it in my palm.

“Christian,” she begged, trying her best to keep quiet. Her lungs hitched and strained as a whine escaped when I thumbed her nipple. Cassandra squeezed her thighs together, trying to ease the ache I was causing.

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