If a young cowboy could have looked more disappointed, I hadn’t seen it.

“This isn’t about me not wanting you this way, that way, and every way until you made me scream your name at least five different times like I hoped we’d be spending the night,” I said. Okay, that look of disappointment just went a few notches higher. “This is about not letting that smirking, swaggering, infuriating Garth Black win.”

“Let him win. I don’t care.” Jesse tried to pull me back to him. Tried being the operative word. “However, I do care about this. Us. What you were about to do to me five different times tonight apparently.”

I gave myself the satisfaction of a small smile. Although I didn’t love frustrating Jesse, I did love knowing I had power over him. It was the same power he had over me.

“Good night, Jesse.” I planted a quick kiss on his cheek before moving off of the swing. We were at a stalemate. No amount of arguing from him would change my mind, and it was obvious no amount of argument from me would change his.

“Really?” His hand reached for mine, and he looked like he couldn’t believe the night had taken such a drastic turn.

“Really.” I looked him in the eye so he could see how serious I was. Let that be a lesson: Don’t make bets with Garth Black having anything to do with Jesse’s and my sex life.

He held my hand and gaze for a few more seconds, likely hoping I would change my mind. When that proved wishful thinking, he pulled me back down to him and scooted to the end of the swing. “Come here. Just because we can’t, or you won’t allow, us to continue what we were doing doesn’t mean we have to retreat to opposite ends of the house.” He patted the space beside him. “I don’t want to waste our time together spending it apart. We spend too much time like that already.”

Truer words had never been said. “You sure have a way with words, Walker. If I wasn’t fully committed to not letting you lose this bet with Garth, you’d be getting so lucky right now.”

He groaned so loudly the ranch hands in the bunk house probably heard it. “Not the thing to say to a guy who’s holding on by a thread.”

I curled into a ball on the swing and dropped my head on his lap. Best pillow ever.

We were quiet for a while, just the occasional creak of the swing as Jesse rocked us and the distant echo of the cattle. I was at my favorite place in the whole world, beside my favorite person in the universe . . . I felt a rare form of contentment in moments like those. Like there was nothing more I could want. Like death could come knocking on my door and I’d cross into the hereafter knowing I’d lived a full life.

Feeling those kinds of things for one person was different, and intense, and even a bit scary at times, but no matter what, I knew it was one thing above all: special. So much that I’d lump it into the category of sacred.

Jesse Walker was sacred to me.

“I love you, Rowen.” So much silence had passed that his words came over me like a tsunami.

I tangled my fingers with his and smiled in my half-asleep state. “I love you, too, Jesse.” I nudged his leg with my shoulder. “But you’re still not getting laid tonight.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know.” He chuckled softly and gave my fingers a squeeze. “But this isn’t exactly a poor substitute.”

After that, I surrendered to sleep quickly. I never had bad dreams when Jesse was close by. He chased them all away.

I WAS DREAMING. I knew what was happening wasn’t real. It might have been real years ago, but it wasn’t my reality anymore. The scared boy chained to the water pipe in that dark, wet basement wasn’t me anymore. The boy covered in his own filth, more animal than human, wasn’t the man I’d grown into. The boy guarding the only thing he could claim as his own, ready and willing to tear into whomever or whatever might try to take it from him, had been my life at one time. It wasn’t any longer.

I’d gone for years without dreaming of my life before my real family had found me. My true family. But the dreams had come back. In the past couple of weeks, they’d increased in frequency. I’d never had one while sleeping beside Rowen . . . but that had changed.

I jolted awake in a cold sweat, almost panting. It took me a minute to realize I was safe and another minute to remember where I was. My gaze jumped to Rowen, and my arms tightened protectively around her. She was still curled up, asleep, and half on the swing, half on my lap. A peaceful expression covered her face. The blanket I’d grabbed from the chest on the porch had slipped almost completely off of her. I grabbed the corner and pulled it up, tucking it under her chin.

I studied her for a minute, unable to shake my growing sense of protectiveness. As someone who cared about Rowen, of course I was concerned with keeping her safe, but my desperation went beyond that. It was something a bit darker, something not quite so benign and selfless. I’d warred with it in the past, that protectiveness that toed the line of possessiveness. My protective feelings for her didn’t just stem from her benefit, as they had until recently. The new sense of protection cropped up from feeling like she was mine, no one else’s, and not wanting anything else to find out about her for fear of her being taken away.

I recognized that staggering feeling as a demon from my past. One I thought I’d buried. One I obviously hadn’t. It unsettled me to the core, but I reassured myself that I’d caught the demon before it had taken over. Knowledge was power, and knowing that the little boy of my past was trying to possess Rowen in a way that wasn’t acceptable or healthy meant I would be on my guard to stop it from going any further. I’d rather remove myself from her life completely than strangle the life right out of Rowen. I’d kill myself trying if need be. I wouldn’t go back to that life. I wouldn’t drag what was most special to me back either.

“You look like you need this, sweetie.” A steaming cup of coffee appeared in front of my face. “And this, too. It might be unseasonably warm, but the nights are still plenty chilly.” A heavy blanket dropped over me.

“Thanks, Mom.” I yawned, took the cup of coffee, and forced the dark thoughts back where they belonged: in the grave I’d buried them in years ago.

“Look at that hair.” Mom teased with a few pieces, trying to get them to behave, then gave up. “It didn’t matter what I put in your hair when you were younger; it always had a mind of its own.”

“Good thing I pretty much live in a hat.” I took a long drink of coffee, retrieved my hat from where it had fallen off last night, and slid it into position.

“Did you two stay out here all night?”

I nodded. “All night. I’ve got the bug bites and frost bite to prove it.”

“Good thing you’re a rough and tough cowboy then.” Mom gave me a smile before sipping her own coffee.

“Good thing.” I stretched my arms high above my head. I was stiff, too. “What time is it?”

“Almost six.”

“Was there a day off announced I wasn’t made aware of?” The fact that I hadn’t been woken up with a cold bucket of water meant I’d missed some kind of memo.

“Not so much a day off, but your dad decided today would be a fun day to have all the guys make breakfast for us girls.” Just then, a crashing sound came from the kitchen. “They’re working a bit slower than we do. Breakfast might be ready by dinnertime.” Another crash, that one even louder. Mom grimaced. “Or maybe in time for tomorrow’s breakfast.”

“Sounds like I’d better get in there and throw my pathetic cooking skills into the mix. I’m pretty sure I can manage to not ruin toast.”

“No. Stay.” Mom shoved off the railing like she was going to physically stop me if I tried moving. “It’s nice to see you like this. When she’s with you.”