I took this job to keep the lights on after my family's mistakes left me staring at empty accounts. Jack Montrose runs the ranch with the same quiet authority he uses to sign every document on his desk. I told myself I could handle the proximity without losing the independence I fought for.

His hand meets mine on the open ledger more often than the work requires, and neither of us pulls away. Every hour in that sunlit office costs more than the last. The ranch's survival depends on our focus yet all I can feel is the pull of what happens if one of us finally stops pretending.

My notice would take one minute to write. Tomorrow I will be at that ledger again.