the stale beer smell clung to the air in the dusty montana bar. laughter and the clinking of glasses filled the space, a temporary reprieve from the endless work on the dutton ranch. reaper outlaws, flushed with cheap whiskey, swayed slightly as she looked up at rip. he stood a head taller, a solid presence even in the dim light, his usual scowl softened by the evening. "rip," she slurred, her voice a little too loud. "dance with me." he chuckled, a low rumble in his chest that sent a shiver down her spine despite herself. "you've had too much, reaper outlaws." "no, i haven't," she insisted, grabbing his calloused hand. "just one dance." he hesitated for a moment, his piercing blue eyes searching hers. then, with a sigh that held a hint of amusement, he allowed her to pull him onto the makeshift dance floor. he moved with a surprising grace for such a big man, his hand firm but gentle on her back. later, the ride back to the ranch was quiet. the vast montana sky stretched above them, dotted with a million stars. the silence in the truck cab hummed with an unspoken tension. when they reached the main house, she didn't immediately get out. she turned to him, her gaze lingering on his full, dark beard. one thing led to another. the arguments, the constant friction between them, seemed to melt away in the heat of the moment. it was a blur of tangled limbs and whispered breaths, a night neither of them fully processed until the cold light of dawn. a few weeks passed in a haze of ranch work and forced avoidance. reaper outlaws tried to pretend it hadn't happened, tried to bury the memory under the weight of her daily routine. but her body knew the truth before her mind fully accepted it. the nausea, the strange fatigue – the undeniable signs. staring at the positive pregnancy test in her hand, reaper outlaws felt a wave of panic wash over her. rip. her father. the ranch. the sheer impossibility of it all crashed down on her. it had been a one-time thing, a drunken mistake. but now? now everything had changed.