Page 171 of Ransom

The fields stretch out around us, endless and green. Ransom pulls into our old spot and cuts the engine. The silence wraps around us like a blanket.

"You meant it, right?" My voice cracks. "What you said to Maggie?"

Ransom turns to face me. "About Max?"

"Yeah." I swallow hard. "Because this isn't... it's not playing house. When she's gone—" The words stick in my throat. "Max will need stability. Structure. A home."

"Blair—"

"No, let me finish." I press my palms flat against my thighs. "He'll need someone who understands that some days he won't want to talk. That he might get angry, or sad, or both at once. Someone who won't push him to 'get over it' or 'move on.' Someone who'll just... be there."

"Like Robert was for us." Ransom's voice is soft.

"Exactly." My chest tightens. "And I'm terrified that I won't be able to be as good as my dad. I'm so scared that I won't have the patience. Or I'm going to fuck him up so bad he'll grow up to hate me."

Ransom doesn't say anything. He just tugs me across the bench seat until I'm tucked under his arm. And he lets me talk.

"Maggie read so many books. She still does. All these books on raising strong, happy kids. Yeah, I'm there, but I don't do any of that heavy emotional stuff. I like being the fun aunt. But I can't be the fun aunt when I'm nagging him about homework or bedtimes. He's going to hate me."

"He won't hate you. Not for long, anyway."

I snort-laugh and wipe my sleeve across my face. "Not for long, huh? That's comforting. You're so good at this cheering people up thing. I feel all better now."

Ransom chuckles at my sarcasm, his chest rumbling under my ear. He feels good. This feels good.

"I don't know if I'm up for this," I admit.

He makes a low humming sound. "I thought I was done raising kids. But between the two of us, Baby, we can handle anything. And we won't be doing it alone. We'll have this town and my family there to help every step of the way."

He's right. I know he is. But I still wish it wouldn't come to it. "I want her to be okay. And I want her to stop being such a stubborn asshole and do what I want. For once in her fucking life." She's always been the leader, and I've gone along with her. Most of the time, anyway.

"I know," he says, humming as his arm makes a slow stroke up and down my back. "I want her to be okay too."

"So you don't have to parent a six-year-old child who came home from school yesterday with crushed-up snails in his pockets?"

He laughs and grins down at me. "Not gonna lie, that was gross." It was gross. Ransom had to pick them out of the fabric and throw them away. He only gagged once. Honestly, it was really impressive and makes him even sexier in my eyes. We didn't even ask him to do it. He volunteered. That's a real man right there.

His smile dies, and he uses one finger to brush my hair off my cheek. "I liked Maggie when we were kids. I care about her. But I'll be honest, I didn't put that folder together for her. I did it for you."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that I will do anything in my power to make you happy. If I could snap my fingers and make her magically better just so that you wouldn't lose your best friend, I would. Putting that file together is the next step in my plan."

"The next step? And what happens if she won't look at the folder?"

His mouth twists, and he looks away. "Let's not go there."

"Um. We're going there."

He sighs and gives me a sheepish look. "We have a plan involving a chartered jet and some chloroform."

"Ran! Are you insane?" He just shrugs those big shoulders. He's not joking. He was seriously thinking about kidnapping Maggie. "You're not going to kidnap her."

He side-eyes me but doesn't say anything. I slap my hand on his chest, right over his pec, then start digging for his nipple. "You are not going to kidnap her! Promise me!" Do I want her healthy? Yes. Do I want anyone going to jail to make that happen? No. Do I want this man to do anything that might take him away from me? Not a fucking chance.

He squeaks and grabs at my hands before I can get a grip and twist. A nurple is a perfectly acceptable way to extract a promise. And it used to be really damned effective on him.

Apparently, it still is.