Page 68 of Cowboy's Healing Heart

"Not so fast," he cuts me off. "We need to discuss the next steps. This contract is just the beginning."

I glance at my watch, thinking of Krystal and Ashanti waiting for me at the estate. "Can't it wait until tomorrow?"

My father's eyes harden. "This is more important than playing house with your... girlfriend."

The dismissive tone in his voice sets my teeth on edge. "Fiancée," I correct him, my voice low and dangerous. "And she is important."

He waves a hand as if brushing away an annoying fly. "Of course, of course. But right now, we need to focus on the company. You've been away too long, Shane. It's time to step up and take your rightful place."

I open my mouth to argue, but the words die in my throat. This is what I came back for, isn't it? To secure our future, to protect Krystal and Ashanti? I can't afford to rock the boat now.

"Fine," I say, my jaw clenched. "Let's get this over with."

Hours later, I finally make it back to the estate. The house is quiet, and most of the lights are already off. I loosen my tie as I make my way up to the main suite, feeling the day's weight pressing down on me.

I push open the door, expecting to find Krystal asleep. Instead, she's sitting in one of the armchairs by the window, staring out at the darkened grounds with a book in her lap.

"Hey," I say softly, not wanting to startle her.

She turns, and I see the exhaustion in her eyes. "Hey, yourself. Long day?"

I nod, shrugging off my jacket. "You could say that. How was everything here?"

Krystal's quiet for a moment, and I can see her wrestling with how to answer. "It was... different," she finally says. "Your mother stopped by."

My stomach drops. "What? When?"

"This afternoon. She wanted to welcome us to New York." Her tone is carefully neutral, but I can hear the tension underneath.

I cross the room, kneeling in front of her chair. "Krystal, I'm so sorry. I should have been here."

She shakes her head, reaching out to cup my cheek. "It's okay. We survived."

But I can see in her eyes that it wasn't okay. That she felt out of place and judged. That my mother probably said or did something to make her feel unwelcome.

I take her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm. "Tell me what happened."

Krystal sighs, her fingers tracing patterns on my skin. "It wasn't anything specific. Just... little comments. Questions about my background, about Ashanti's father. Your mother kept talking about how 'exotic' I look."

Anger flares in my chest. "I'll talk to her. Make it clear that?—"

"No," Krystal cuts me off. "I can handle it. I just... I need to know that we're in this together. That this isn't going to change us."

I look up at her, seeing the vulnerability in her eyes. This strong, fierce woman who's faced down so much in her life is now unsure in the face of my world.

"Nothing's going to change us," I say firmly, pulling her into my arms. "I love you, Krystal. You and Ashanti are my family now."

She melts into my embrace, and I feel some of the tension leave her body. But as I hold her, I can't shake the nagging feeling that I'm already failing her. That by bringing her into this world, I'm asking her to change who she is.

I watch Krystal move around the room as we get ready for bed. She looks small in this massive space, out of place among the opulent furnishings. I think of her cabin at the ranch, cozy and filled with warmth. I think of the easy rhythm we'd fallen into there, so different from the stilted formality of this house.

"What are you thinking?" Krystal asks, catching me staring.

I shake my head, forcing a smile. "Nothing. Just glad you're here."

I move closer to Krystal, feeling the pull of her presence. My lips curl into a smoldering smile as an idea forms in my mind. "You know," I say, my voice low and husky, "we haven't properly christened this bed yet."

As the words leave my mouth, I watch the tension melt from Krystal's body. Her eyes sparkled, a blend of longing and mischief flickering within them.

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