Chapter 30
I knew nothing would come from the investigation, and yet hearing the words, having them spoken to my face like I’m fucking crazy, has my blood hitting boiling point. It’s just like then — the same pitying looks, the same no evidence suggests your father had any part in this.
Grabbing my hat from the hook, I storm out behind the deputy, watching as he takes himself back to his cruiser and leaves, a cloud of dust pluming behind his tires.
He’s a new face in the department. It had given me a false sense of hope to have fresh eyes on it, but Deputy Wright is just like the rest of them.
This will never end. He’s going to keep getting away with this, and someone is going to get hurt.
It’s inevitable.
And I know exactly who it’s going to be caught in that crossfire.
Placing my hat on my head, I turn toward the stables, ignoring my workers who call out to me and find Pippin in her stall at the end.
She shoves her pretty head over the door, dark eyes watching me advance.
The moment I’m within reach, she’s leaning toward me, placing her forehead against mine and shoving the hat off my head.
We’re both still healing from the accident, and while my ribs and the bruising have eased, her anxiety has not.
I stroke a hand down the side of her face, letting her feel me for a moment before I unlock the door and gear her up for a ride.
She follows me out of the barn, and once we’re clear, I mount her, giving her the command to go.
Niamh is still sleeping, and she’s safe here.
I’ve given orders for a couple of workers to stay close to the house and to keep an eye out, and they all know to notify me or Silas if they see anything suspicious.
Hooves clip against the hard ground as I head toward the trees at the base of the mountains, letting Pippin take whatever route she chooses.
I haven’t ridden much since I was thrown off, but I need it today.
If I don’t, I fear I’ll end up across the road at that ranch where he is.
Nothing has happened since Niamh’s accident over a week ago, but that’s what he does.
He hits and retreats, waits until you feel safe before striking again.
It’s a mind game, but I can’t deny that it works.
I am on edge and have been for what feels like my entire life.
Pippin makes a chuffing sound as she picks up on the tension in me, her head throwing back just a touch.
“I’m good,” I assure her with a pat to the side of her neck. She snorts in response but continues, heading the way we always go, remembering the path into the trees where we spend so much time. It’s the same trail that led me to her.
I should let her go.
Should and can, however, are two very different things. I physically cannot, she is air, a drug in my system I cannot go without. It’s so fucking selfish, but I can’t let go.
It’s an obsession with no cure.
For an hour, Pippin follows whatever trail she finds, veering off the usual path before coming back around, the woods around us quiet save for the birds in the canopy or the odd squirrel that scurries across the path ahead of us.
Eventually though, Pippin takes us to our favorite spot, coming to a stop at the pool’s edge while the falls roar as they come over the rock face.
Climbing down from Pippin, I guide her to the water to get a drink and then secure her to a post, leaving her to graze as I walk along the pool’s edge, the water lapping at the gritty sand beneath my boots.
“You look tense, cowboy.” The words are shouted from above, and when I snap my head up, I find Niamh sitting on the rocks beside the falls, about 20 feet up and only in a bright pink bikini.
My mouth damn near waters at the sight of her, the way her dark hair is braided and pulled over one shoulder.
The stitches were removed from her head yesterday, and the wound itself is healing nicely, though there will be a small scar.
She kicks her legs where they dangle over the rocks, her pretty mouth pulled up into a smirk. “Get down from there, sweetheart.” I yell back.
“I will,” She tells me. “Will today be the day I get you to come for a swim with me?”
“Not on your life,” I chuckle. “Now come down.”
It’s not unsafe up there necessarily, but all it would take was a slight slip and she’d fall right off the edge. Seeing her injured once was enough to last me a lifetime.
“You sure you don’t want to come for a swim?” She pushes to her feet, standing entirely too close to the edge for my liking.
“Niamh,” I warn her, already moving around the pool, toward the incline to take me to where she is.
“You need to live a little, cowboy.”
“Do not —”
She jumps.
I watch as her body falls fast, hitting the water within a blink, and she goes under, disappearing from view. My breath catches in my throat as I wait for her to resurface, but several seconds pass and she doesn’t come back up, the water where she landed smoothing out.
“Niamh!” I yell, but I’m already shoving the boots from my feet before I jump in after her fully clothed.
I slice through the water as quickly as I can possibly move until I reach the spot she went under.
The water isn’t clear enough to see beneath, so I dive under, searching for that bright pink bikini, but I see nothing but the bottom of the pool.
No. No.
Returning to the surface for air, I take a deep breath and move to go back down but arms come around my shoulders, legs around my waist as Niamh attaches herself to the back of me, pushing us both under for a moment until I can get us steady enough to stay above water.
“Hey,” She breathes at my ear, “You came in after all.”
“You little brat.” I turn my head to look at her, my heart still pumping wildly with adrenaline.
“What?” She replies innocently. “You told me to get down.”
“You didn’t come back up,” I accuse.
“Didn’t I?” She laughs, “Or did you just not see me?”
She releases me so I can spin on her, grabbing her again when she tries to move away. Her legs return around my waist, water clinging to her lashes and the corners of her mouth.
“I just swam over there.” She points to a dip in the rock edge. From where I was standing, I never would have seen her come back up.
“You did that on purpose,” I accuse.
“I did.” She admits without hesitation, her hands coming up to push away the hair that’s fallen over my forehead. “And I’m not sorry.”
“Sweetheart,” I sigh.
“You’re not yourself, Roman.” She kisses the corner of my mouth. “I know you’re stressed and you’re worried.”
“They closed it.” I tell her.
“What?”
“The investigation on my dad and your accident. Not enough evidence.”
“That’s bullshit,” She snaps.
“When does it end?” I ask her, “When it’s too late, and he’s got to you? When he’s got the ranch?”
“He will never get the ranch.”
I keep it to myself that I’ve considered handing it over, just to get him to stop. I would be willing to if it meant she would be safe from his reach.
“We have to keep living.” She sighs before kissing me again. “You taught me that.”
“Did I now?”
“Mmhmm,” She nods, “I wasn’t doing that before.”
“And jumping off cliffs is what living is?” I challenge.
“It’s hardly a cliff,” She chuckles, “I just wanted you in with me. Feels good, doesn’t it?”
“Not sure having a heart attack feels good,” I answer her gruffly.
Releasing her legs from my waist, she giggles as she swims away from me, toward my hat floating on top of the water. I hadn’t removed it after I jumped in after her.
She plucks it off the water and puts it on her head, water running down her face as she meets my eyes.
A new kind of heat blooms through me, seeing her so damn free, with that smile on her face and my hat on her head. She’s the perfect mix of sunshine and storm, chaos and calm that makes it impossible not to notice her.
“You ever heard of the rule, sweetheart?” I swim toward her, but she slowly swims back, toward the falls.
“What rule?” The glimmer in her eye tells me she knows exactly what I’m talking about, her lips slightly parted as she watches me advance on her.
“You wear the hat,” I rasp, almost close enough to catch her. “You ride the cowboy.”
“Is that right?” She stops just shy of the falls and stands, the water stopping just below her shoulders. I come up ahead of her and rise to my full height, fingers skirting up the dip at her waist and then toward her back where I can grasp the strings on her bikini.
“That’s right,” I confirm as I tug the strings hard enough that they fall loose.
She gasps when I pull the bikini off her and hold it in my fist, my eyes dropping to her chest. The water laps against her skin, and a moan slips from her when I move my free hand to cup her breast, thumb rolling over her peaked nipple.
I lean in to seal my mouth over hers, pressing our bodies together in the water, my cock jerking behind the soaked material of my jeans. She feels it, slipping a hand between us to cup me, stroking the outline of my dick through my pants.
Fuck me, I’m not waiting.
In one quick motion, I have her out of the water and against me, her legs around my waist as I make my way to the falls.
I slip beneath it, moving into the cave hidden behind the curtain of water.
Moss grows up the rocks and the air in here is slightly colder and damp, and her skin pebbles in reaction.
Placing her down, I reach for my shirt, and pull it off, throwing the wet material onto the rock.
“Hands,” I order her.
“What?”
“Give me your hands.” I meet her eyes, waiting for her to obey, and when she does, I take her bikini top and stretch it out, using it as a rope to secure her wrists together.
“What are you doing?”
“You think I’m just going to let you get away with tricking me like that?” I cock my head, watching her as her breathing kicks up a notch. “You look mighty fine in my hat, sweetheart.”