Page 22 of The Trail Boss

“I’m going back to work tonight,” Roxie said firmly, her voice leaving no room for doubt.

“No, you’re not,” Gavin replied, his tone calm but unyielding.

Roxie stopped mid-step and turned to face him, her eyes narrowing. “You don’t get to decide that, cowboy.”

“You’re damn right I do,” Gavin shot back, his voice rising slightly. “You think I’m going to let you walk into a place full of strangers with a target on your back?”

“I thought you screened everybody…”

“We do, but that doesn’t mean someone couldn’t get in as a guest or someone somebody planted from the beginning.”

“It’s my job!” Roxie snapped, throwing her hands in the air. “I don’t have the luxury of taking time off, Gavin. Some of us have bills to pay.”

“And some of us don’t want to see you dead!” he fired back, stepping closer.

The energy between them crackled like a live wire, the large, sunny kitchen suddenly feeling too crowded. Roxie planted her hands on her hips, her chin tilting up in defiance.

“You don’t get it,” she said, her voice shaking with frustration. “I’ve been taking care of myself for years. I don’t need you swooping in like some knight in shining armor, telling me what I can and can’t do.”

Gavin’s jaw tightened, his dark eyes flashing. “And I’m trying to keep you alive, but you’re too damn stubborn to see it.”

“Stubborn?” Roxie barked a laugh, the sound sharp and bitter. “You think I’m stubborn because I want to live my life? Because I don’t want to sit here waiting for someone to fix my problems?”

“It’s not about fixing your problems,” Gavin said, his voice dropping into a low rumble. “It’s about not letting you get killed because you’re too proud to accept help.”

Her eyes widened, and the anger between them gave way to something deeper—something raw and unspoken.

“I’ve been on my own since the day Jeremiah died,” Roxie said softly, her voice trembling. “No one helped me then. No one protected me when his parents took everything. I fought my way out of that mess by myself, Gavin. I didn’t need anyone then, and I don’t need anyone now.”

Gavin stepped closer, the intensity in his gaze making her falter. “You think letting someone help makes you weak?” he asked, his voice rough but steady. “It doesn’t. It means you’re smart enough to know you can’t fight this alone.”

Roxie opened her mouth to respond, but the words caught in her throat. She looked away, her arms wrapping around herself as if to shield against the truth in his words.

Gavin exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “Damn it, Roxie. You’re just about the strongest person I’ve ever met, but that doesn’t mean you have to do this on your own. SEALs are among the best fighting forces in the world—but we don’t operate individually, we operate as a team.”

Her gaze snapped back to his, and the vulnerability in her eyes tugged at something deep in his chest.

“Why do you care so much?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Gavin hesitated, his jaw working as he searched for the right words. “Because you matter,” he said finally, his voice low and firm. “And because I don’t want to see you get hurt. Not again.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, thick and heavy, as they stared at each other. Roxie’s breath hitched, and for the first time, her walls seemed to crack just a little.

But then she straightened, her chin lifting in that familiar gesture of defiance. “I can’t just sit here, Gavin. I have to work. I have to do something.”

Gavin sighed, his frustration giving way to reluctant understanding. “Fine,” he said, his voice gruff. “But you’re not going alone.”

Her brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, if you’re going back to the Iron Spur, you can be damn sure there will be someone standing guard, most likely me.”

Roxie blinked, clearly taken aback. “You’re going to babysit me while I pour drinks?”

“Call it whatever you want,” Gavin said, his lips twitching into a faint grin. “But I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

Roxie stared at him for a long moment, her expression a mix of exasperation and something softer she didn’t seem ready to name.

“Fine,” she said finally, rolling her eyes. “But if you scare off my tips, I’ll expect you to make them good.”

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