My laptop is warm against my thighs, and the fan hums like it’s working overtime right along with my brain.
The timeline stretches across the screen; tiny clips stacked together like proof that the last months actually happened.
Ruby Ridge in golden light. Storefronts glowing underneath the twinkling twilight. The bar sign swinging gently in the breeze.
I scrub through footage of Reed’s bar, pausing again—because of course I do—on a shot of him behind the counter with his sleeves rolled, completely unbothered by the fact that he looks like literal sin.
“Okay, don’t panic,” I whisper to myself. “This is very professional. I am a professional.”
I immediately zoom in, clip certain scenes, and make sure the length is right.
The sunflowers come next. The footage wobbles because I’m laughing off-camera breathlessly, tugging him along. I leave the laugh in. It’s messy, real, and veryme.
A creak pulls me out of my trance, and I instinctively jump at the small sound.
“I swear,” I call, way too fast, “I was just about to take a break. Like, literally right now. This exact second.”
Reed’s voice is calm and amused. “Good. I come bearing bribes.” The bed dips as he sits carefully, and something cold touches my arm.
I glance over. A berry smoothie, already sweating down the glass.
“Oh,” I say. “You’re an actual angel.”
He averts his gaze, clearing his throat. “You needed a snack,” he replies.
I snort, taking a sip as I ramble. “Okay, but this is really good. Like, unfairly good. Did you eyeball the ratios? I never get them right, and then it tastes like sadness, but this is spectacular!”
He leans in and kisses my shoulder, his mustache tickling my skin.
My brain promptly exits the building.
“For energy,” he murmurs.
“Right,” I say quickly. “Yes. Energy. Very important. I have… timelines. And feelings.”
He chuckles, and it makes my chest feel fizzy.
“Do you want company?” he asks. “Or am I distracting you?”
I nod too quickly. “No—yes—I mean, company. Definitely company. You’re not distracting. I’m just… easily distractible.”
“Noted.”
He shifts behind me, settling against the headboard, and tugs me gently so I end up between his legs.
His arm comes around my waist, loose, like he’s not trying to cage me, just… be there.
I immediately start talking again, because he is somehow the only person who can make me nervous.
Have you seen him? Six-seven of pure muscle, I literally don’t know what these Hayes men eat.
Anyways.
“Okay, so this clip is the first night. Here’s me showing off the bull and the decor, and then there’s you pretending not to notice me, rude by the way.”
“I noticed,” he says quietly, his lips brushing my temple.
I freeze. “You did?”
