Jake’s POV
Rage hit so fast I forgot how to think rationally. One second sitting, the next on my feet with Dale's smug face in my crosshairs and violence the only clear thought in my head.
"Watch your fucking mouth, Dale." My voice came out low.
Dangerous tone that usually made people reconsider their life choices. But Dale wasn't smart. Never had been.
"What? Just pointing out you've got assets beyond cash. Girl's pretty. Could settle your debt real quick if you're willing to share."
Every man at that table went still. Probably calculating odds on whether Jake Sullivan would actually commit murder tonight.
Honestly? Even I wasn't sure.
"Say one more word about her…" I leaned forward, palms flat on the table. "Just one. See what happens."
"Easy, Jake." Miller—older cowboy, been around since my father's time, one of the few men I actually respected. "Dale's drunk and stupid. We all know it. But…"
He paused, weighing his words carefully. "Debt's a debt. Three hundred isn't pocket change around here."
"I'll have it tomorrow." Gritted out between clenched teeth.
"That's not how this works and you know it." Miller's tone was almost apologetic. Like he genuinely felt bad about holding me to principles I'd lived by my entire adult life. "You tap out, you settle. Tonight. One way or another."
Cowboy culture. Honor codes. Debts paid immediately or you lost respect you'd never get back. Forty-three years of following these rules now biting me in the ass at the worst possible moment.
The irony wasn't lost on me. I'd built my entire reputation on being a man of my word. Someone who honored commitments. Who paid his debts.
And now those same principles were being weaponized against me.
"Or…" Miller glanced at Adison, then back at me. Testing. Challenging. "You could make it clear she's not available. One way or another. That'd settle things just fine."
The table went dead quiet.
You could've heard a pin drop in the sudden silence.
I looked at Adison. She was watching me with those defiant eyes, chin up, not scared but trying to figure out what I'd do. Whether I'd claim her publicly or keep pretending she was just Richard's daughter temporarily under my roof.
Decision time.
Make my position clear without actually saying it outright, or leave her vulnerable to assholes like Dale who saw pretty girls as objects to be won and traded.
Not really a choice at all when you looked at it that way.
I grabbed cash from my wallet. Threw it all on the table—two hundred dollars. Not enough to cover three hundred but a statement made regardless. Physical proof I wasn't walking away from obligations even if I was short.
"She came with me," I said coldly, looking directly at Dale. Making sure he understood without me spelling it out. "She leaves with me. That's all anyone needs to know."
Deliberate and careful.
I took Adison's hand and pulled her up before anyone could respond or push further or turn this into something even more complicated. Her hand was small in mine, warm, fitting there like some cosmic joke.
The walk to the door felt like miles. Every eye in that hall is tracking us. Watching Jake Sullivan hold Richard Ward's daughter's hand with the kind of possessiveness that spoke louder than any words I could've said.
Adison's hand was still in mine. I should've let go the second we cleared the door. Should've put distance between us now that the immediate threat was handled.
Didn't. Couldn't quite make myself release her even though every rational thought screamed that I'd just made everything exponentially more complicated.
"So," I muttered as we reached the truck. "Did you have fun?"
She smiled. Actually smiled like this was amusing instead of potentially catastrophic. "More fun than you expected, cowboy."
Flirtatious. Unrepentant. Zero concern for the line we'd just publicly danced around.
The drive started silent. My knuckles white on the steering wheel. Her sitting there calm as anything.
"Are you mad at me?" she said finally.
Was I mad? Complex question.
Mad at Dale for being a disrespectful piece of shit. Mad at myself for bringing her in the first place. Mad at the situation. Mad that I'd been backed into a corner and forced to either make my position clear or let her be disrespected.
Mad that part of me—the part that wasn't thinking rationally—was almost glad it happened because now I didn't have to keep pretending quite as hard.
"No." Honest answer. "I'm not mad at you. I'm frustrated I had to make that call. That those assholes are now going to spread stories. That I painted a target on both our backs."
"You didn't confirm anything directly though." She shifted toward me slightly. "Doesn't mean…"
"Everyone in that room knows exactly what it means, Adison."
Cut her off because she was being deliberately naive.
"They saw how you touched me all night. How I reacted. How I stood between you and Dale like I had ownership rights I don't actually have. They're not speculating anymore. They're guessing. And their guesses are probably pretty fucking accurate."
"So what?" That edge in her voice. The one that said she was about to challenge everything. "What are you actually scared of?"
Everything.
Richard finding out. Losing my oldest friend. Admitting I'd crossed every line I swore I wouldn't cross. Admitting that I wanted her more than I wanted to do the right thing.
"Your safety comes first," I said instead.
Easier truth that didn't require me to admit how completely gone I was for her.
"I couldn't let Dale's comment stand. Couldn't let any of them think you were—" Stopped there. "I couldn't let them disrespect you."
"So you basically claimed me in front of everyone by some of your cowboy’s rules?"
"What was I supposed to do?" Finally I looked at her. "Let Dale suggest you were some kind of prize to be won? Let them think you were available for whoever had the best hand next round?"
"No…" Quieter now. "No, I'm glad you didn't. I just want to know what it means."
What did it mean? That I'd crossed a line publicly I couldn't uncross.
That I'd chosen protecting her over protecting myself and hadn't even hesitated.
"It means I couldn't let them think you weren't mine to protect." The words came out rougher than intended. "Even if I don't have any actual right to claim that. Even if it's—"
"But you did claim it." Her eyes were dark. Heated. "You claimed me in front of everyone. "
Adison studied me for a long moment, then shifted in her seat. Turned toward me fully, one leg tucked under her like she was settling in for a real conversation I definitely wasn't prepared to have.
"You know what I think?" Her voice had that quality that meant she was about to say something I didn't want to hear but needed to. "I think you're using ‘complicated’ as an excuse. I think you're scared of admitting what you actually want."
She wasn't wrong. But admitting that felt like opening a door I couldn't close. Like stepping off a cliff with no idea if there was ground below or just endless falling.
"I'm terrified," I admitted. Raw. Honest. Fuck it, we were already here. "I'm terrified of wanting you this much. Terrified of what it means. Terrified that when you leave—and you will leave—I won't know how to go back to normal."
"Maybe I don't want normal." She leaned closer. Voice dropping to something intimate. "Maybe I want whatever this is, even if it's complicated and messy."
My hands tightened on the wheel. "Adison—"
"You saved me tonight." Her hand landed on my thigh. Not teasing this time. Serious. Purposeful. "You said I came with you, I leave with you. In front of everyone."
Her fingers squeezed and heat spread from where she touched me, making thinking nearly impossible.
"So if I'm yours…" Her voice went even lower, intimate in the darkness of the truck cab. "What's stopping you from taking me right here and now?"