Sunlight (Haven River Ranch)
Sunlight: Chapter 8

The lodge was quiet for a Sunday morning. When I’d walked in at seven, the lobby had been nearly silent. The front desk clerk was miserably hungover from last night’s party and keeping the trash close by. But with the guest count low, hopefully today would be easy for everyone.

Me included.

But considering where I’d woken up this morning, I wasn’t holding my breath.

There were emails in my inbox, each of them bold and screaming, “Read me first!” But rather than move my mouse or touch my keyboard, I sat with my hands on my lap, watching the doorway from the corner of my eye.

Was Jax awake yet? It was nine. He was probably awake. Was he mad that I’d snuck out of his bed before dawn? Or was he relieved that he could skip the awkward morning after a one-night stand?

Not that Jax would have made it awkward. I couldn’t imagine him saying, “Well, that was fun. Thanks for the sex. See you at work.” He’d been nothing but a dream.

But rather than face him, rather than take a chance at an honest conversation where I let my guard down, I’d left.

God, I was such a coward.

Last night had been . . .

Mind blowing. Earth shattering. Life changing. I’d never felt like that before. I hadn’t even known I could feel like that.

It terrified me how much I wanted him again. Over and over. Mine and only mine.

But that was impossible. There were too many obstacles between us, and at the end of it all, I was leaving Montana. Not today, but someday. Sooner rather than later.

Getting attached to Jax was guaranteed to break my heart. And I’d survived enough of that in my twenty-eight years to last a lifetime.

So I’d snuck out of his bed, then run to the cabin barefoot in the snow just to put some distance between us.

Losing control wasn’t an option. Neither was losing this job.

I needed this job.

And I really, really shouldn’t have slept with my sort-of boss and landlord.

Why was I such a mess? I dropped my face into my palms, letting out a frustrated groan.

At the sound of footsteps in the hall, I lowered my hands and held my breath, eyes glued to the open doorway as I waited. But when the bathroom door opened and closed, I exhaled and sagged in my chair.

If Jax decided to track me down today, it wouldn’t take much effort. I didn’t have a great place to hide. No friends who’d invite me over to spend the day on their couch or family members who’d let me crash a Sunday dinner.

This office was my safe place at the moment. Work was my retreat. How pathetic was that?

Maybe I could have driven into town and spent the day at a coffee shop, but I’d been too scared to get in my car parked at his place, so I’d walked to the lodge. I’d trudged through the snow, bundled in my warmest coat, boots, and gloves, all so I wouldn’t have to face the man who’d given me four orgasms.

Four. How was that possible? It was usually a miracle if I could fake one.

There’d been nothing fake about my body’s reaction. Somehow Jax had known exactly what to do, exactly how to move, and I’d come alive under his touch.

It was hard for me to shut off my brain during sex. I couldn’t relax. So I’d learned how to fake it. The few men I’d slept with hadn’t seemed to notice.

If I had faked it with Jax, would he have noticed? Probably.

“Oh God.” I buried my face in my hands again. What the hell had I been thinking?

First at the party, blurting out the truth about my parents. Then the champagne. I hadn’t been drunk, but it had definitely lowered my inhibitions. Enough to let Jax carry me to his bedroom and fuck me senseless.

It was the hat. It had been that cowboy hat. He’d looked so sexy wearing it all night, and then I’d gotten this ridiculous thrill that I was the woman who’d been with him when he’d taken it off. “Stupid. Freaking. Cowboy hat.”

“Don’t blame the hat.”

My hands flew wide, my heart leaping into my throat as my gaze streaked to the door.

Jax stood with his arms crossed, leaning against the frame with an ankle crossed over the other. He was the epitome of casual. Relaxed. Friendly.

Except there was tension in his jaw and fire in those blue eyes.

Was he going to come into the office? Or linger in the doorway?

Linger. Please linger. I didn’t trust myself to keep my composure if he came too close.

He held up a hand and jingled my car keys. With a quick flick of his wrist, they sailed across the room for me to catch.

“Thanks.” I gulped. Shit.

He’d brought me my car. Did that mean he was good with me sneaking out? Or pissed?

His lips pursed.

Pissed. Definitely pissed.

“Sasha—”

“Wait.” I held up a hand and cut him off before he could say anything that might change my mind.

I had to say this. I had to end this.

Before I screwed everything up, if I hadn’t already.

“I need you to forget last night happened.” The words tasted sour but necessary, like a bitter pill we both had to swallow. “Please. I can’t be one of the many who flit in and out of your bed.”

His jaw flexed, the corners so sharp they could have cut glass. But he didn’t speak. He didn’t move other than to blink and breathe.

“We work together,” I said. “You’re my boss.”

He arched his eyebrows.

“Boss-ish,” I muttered. Ugh. Why was it so hot in here? Was it the thermostat? Or the heat from his blazing glare? “I need this job, Jax. I need it.”

At the moment, it was the only thing keeping me afloat.

“Please.” My voice cracked. “Can we forget it?”

He stayed silent, staring as my heart galloped faster and faster until I feared it would race out of my chest. I fought the urge to squirm and take it all back. To tell him that last night was the best night I’d had in years.

That he made me laugh, and it had been a long time since I’d laughed.

Three months, actually. I hadn’t truly laughed since the grocery store.

I wanted to tell him that he was the best kiss I’d ever had. That even though I’d woken up early, the hours I’d slept in his arms were the most peaceful I’d had in months. I wanted to tell him that I liked him. I liked him so much.

Except nothing had changed. Me liking Jax would probably end in disaster, and at the moment, that wasn’t a risk I could afford.

So I kept my mouth shut and let him glare until he stood tall and walked away.

My heart cracked a little when the sound of his boots faded.

I closed my eyes, breathing through the pain in my chest. When the quiet returned, when I knew he’d leave me alone for the rest of the day, I sagged in my chair, pulling up my knees and hugging them to my chest.

This was the only way. This was the best choice.

Jax wasn’t the relationship type. I had no desire to become fodder for gossip at the resort over a casual affair that would likely end in my broken heart.

It was better to stop this now. Then when I left this job, I could walk away without any ties.

Better. This was better. So why didn’t I feel better?

I was good at faking it. Sometimes, I could even fool myself.

Not this time.

My stomach knotted, and my temples began to throb. I bit the inside of my cheek to stop my chin from quivering, then shook my mouse, waking up my computer to check my personal email.

The top of the inbox was a bill.

That’s all I seemed to get these days. Just bills and spam.

Nothing from Eddie.

I opened the invoice, then clicked through the payment system until it was processed. Then I pulled up my bank account, cringing at the tiny balance.

When was I going to get ahead? How long would it take to feel like I was moving forward, not just running in place?

I really, really shouldn’t have had sex with Jax. How uncomfortable was this going to get? It would all be made worse by the facts that he was my neighbor for the time being and we worked together.

For three months, I’d tried to avoid and escape him. It was next to impossible.

Where had my head been last night? Sex was not the reason I’d come to Montana. A fling with a hot cowboy was not why I’d uprooted my life to endure a miserable winter.

The knot in my stomach doubled in size as I reached for a piece of paper and a pen.

My handwriting was sloppy, more scribble than script. It didn’t matter. This was just another letter that would go unanswered.

A letter I crumpled into a ball when it was finished.

A letter I would never send.

Eddie,

I’m sorry.

I’m so sorry.

I messed up.

S