Chapter Seven
Mags
Year Seven. Hallow Ranch.
I clicked my tongue and kicked my feet back, urging Midnight to move forward.
As she trotted towards the front of the ranch, my eyes scanned the field, searching for the lost calf. She’d gotten away from the herd last night, and I’d been out searching for her for most of the day. I tugged on the reins, guiding my horse through the entrance of the pasture, the main house in the distance to my left.
“Fucking hell, where is this thing?” I muttered to myself, thankful for the shade of my hat as the sun beat down on me. This had been one of the hottest summers I’d endured since coming to Hallow Ranch, and unfortunately, it was only going to get hotter. I looked to my right, slowly scanning the green grass for an either alive or deceased calf, but something else caught my eye.
Something shiny, cherry red, and not fucking good.
My jaw tightened, the sun gleaming off the windshield, the driver’s side door wide open.
That was Diana’s new fucking Mercedes.
What the fuck was she going out here?
I looked back to the main house, then back to the car, noticing she wasn’t anywhere in sight as the hair on the back of my neck shot up, fear pooling in my gut.
Something was wrong.
“Dammit,” I bit off, snapping the reins and kicking my feet.
Within seconds, Midnight was flying across the field, her hooves pounding against the grass as the wind whipped around me. I shouted, snapping the reins again as we got closer.
I looked all around for the woman, not seeing her, and the fear in my gut grew, threatening to take over all rational thoughts. I began to see nothing but red.
Where the hell was she?
“Diana!” I shouted once I was a few yards away, slowing Midnight down.
In the next second, I was off the horse, my eyes scanning the area as I reached for my pistol. The driver’s seat was empty—as was the back seat. I pulled out my gun, raising it, my body on alert as something dark within my soul woke. It had been a long time since I’d killed a man.
I usually left that to Kings, but now, I was ready to start back old habits.
“Son of a bitch!”
My head snapped up at the sound of her sweet voice, and, without a second thought, I left Midnight where she was, trusting that she wouldn’t run off.
“Diana!” I clipped, rounding the front of her car, stopping short at the scene in front of me. Slowly, I lowered my gun, unable to take my eyes off her, my chest aching suddenly.
She was crouched down, barefoot on the gravel, in front of her tire, trying to loosen the nuggets. Her eyes were red-rimmed, trails of her mascara running down her cheeks as she struggled with the wrench, her knuckles snow white. My eyes narrowed, spotting her earbuds in, and my jaw tightened to the point of pain.
No wonder she couldn’t fucking hear me shouting for her.
I moved then, taking slow steps and shoving my gun in the back of my jeans. When I was about a foot away, she noticed my presence, jumping back and screaming. The sound echoed across the field, and Midnight, who had taken this time to graze, popped her head up.
“Mr. Mags,” Diana breathed, pulling out her earbuds, her chest heaving underneath her pretty yellow blouse.
Fuck, more yellow. More light.
“Just Mags,” I damn near growled, closing the distance and holding out my hand. I needed her off the fucking ground before I lost my shit.
She eyed it. “What can I do for you?”
“You can get the fuck up, Diana. That’s what you can do.”
She flinched at my harsh tone, blinking away some of her tears. Regret coated my tongue, reminding me of the reason why I stayed silent most of the time.
“I have to get this tire changed,” she said, her chin raised.
"Women like you don’t change tires,” I said, and before she could give me sass, I added, “Women like you also don’t need to be fucking barefoot in the gravel.”
I didn’t wait for her to respond, and in a flash, my hands were under her arms, lifting her up. The image of her being on the ground with tears in her eyes would be in my mind for the rest of my life. That wasn’t how I wanted to picture her, and it pissed me off that this image would never go away.
“Mr. Mags!” she yelped, her hands going to my shoulders, her fingers grabbing the fabric of my shirt. A deep grunt left me as I shifted, lifting her up bridal style, my arm curled under her legs, the feeling of her bare skin against mine burning me like a brand. I looked down to find the top of her head—not her eyes. I ignored the sting of that as I turned around, walked to the hood, gently placing her on it.
Then and only then did she finally lift her head to look at me, her cheeks tinted red as embarrassment flickered in her hazel eyes. They were more brown today, the moss green within them barely visible. My eyes dropped down, scanning her body and stopping at her knees, the sight of the red indentions in her skin from the rocks nearly sending me over the edge.
I held my breath as I continued my assessment all the way down to her feet.
“Don’t move,” I ordered, not looking at her face again. If I did that, I would do something stupid. Very stupid. Without another word, I headed back over to Midnight and opened a saddle bag. My horse whinnied but didn’t move. As I tucked my water and small first aid kit under my arm, I patted her neck. “Good girl,” I murmured.
Once I was back in front of Diana, I set the water and small leather bag beside her hip, ignoring the urge to trail my finger along the swell of it. I shouldn’t have touched her.
Lifting her into my arms was the single worst thing a man like me could’ve ever done.
Now ,I knew what she feels like, knew the warmth of her skin, the weight of her body in my arms. It was the different kind of torture entirely. I could make do with being around her, but now that I’d had her in my arms, there was no other place I wanted her to be.
“What are you doing?” she whispered, watching my hands.
“Cut,” I answered gruffly, my throat suddenly thick. Before she could give me more of her sweet voice, I moved again, catching the back of her right ankle in my hand and lifting her leg. She tensed as I rested her foot on my thigh, pouring some of my water over the cut on the right side of her foot. The gray dirt washed away, her skin now shining in the sunlight.
Then, the blood came, oozing from the wound, and every single cell in my body froze.
Blood.
Diana’s blood.
It blended with the small stream of water, turning pink as it ran over her skin before dripping onto the ground.
“I didn’t see that,” she murmured. “I didn’t even feel it.”
There were so many things I wanted to say. I wanted to scold her, to punish her for hurting herself. I had half a mind to take her over my knee right here, underneath the summer sun, and spank her until she promised to call me the next time she needed help. My chest began to heave then, knowing she didn’t have a man to take care of her, to protect her. She was alone, and when shit like this happened, she had to stand in the gravel barefoot, cut her skin on a rock—
“Mags?”
I blinked, and suddenly, everything came back into focus. My hand had slid up, holding underneath her calf, my fingers pressing into the soft flesh. My eyes flicked up, and our gazes collided. Those pretty pink lips parted, her pupils dilated, and her chest—fuck me, her chest was heaving now. Up and down, up and down, up and down, matching the pace of mine.
My mouth watered.
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
“Takin’ care of you.”
“I don’t need you to do that.”
I held her eyes as the words spilled from my tongue faster than I could stop them. “Not an option, Firefly.”
Her eyes widened, giving me the same reaction she did two years ago at the Christmas party.
Firefly.
That was who she was to me, and that would never change, even on the days I wanted it to.
She said nothing, staring at me as if she was trying to see inside my soul. It was the only place I didn’t want her to see. There was nothing good within it—within me.
“Sit still,” I ordered, pulling my gaze from her eyes and getting back to cleaning her wound. Once that was done, I put a bandage over the wound and set about cleaning the bottoms of her feet.
“What are you doing?” she asked softly.
“Don’t need you ruining your shoes,” I murmured, keeping my head down.
I pulled the bandana I always carried out of my back pocket, soaked it with water, and gently began wiping the soles of her feet.
She whimpered, stifling a giggle, the sound halting my movements. “What is it?” I demanded, looking back up at her.
“It tickles,” she rasped, her foot jerking as I wiped the bottoms of her toes. I tilted my head to the side and swiped the fabric back again. She jerked as another beautiful giggle spilled from her lips. The sound alone was like a melody sent straight down from the heavens above, warming the coldest parts of my heart.
“S-stop that,” she begged, the sound going straight to my groin.
I didn’t want to stop.
I wanted to spend the rest of my life, an eternity, making her laugh, making her feel pleasure.
I wanted to spend the rest of my life taking care of the woman I could never allow myself to have.
Diana Harper was too good for this world, definitely too fucking good for me. I knew that. From the moment I saw her, I knew I’d been spending the rest of my life longing for beauty I couldn’t have. Slowly, I looked back up, studying how the corner of her mouth was lifted slightly, the short breaths coming from her now, and the new glow in her cheeks underneath her tear streaks.
“Apologies,” I muttered before moving to her other foot. Not even a minute later, I was done, and I gently released her leg, letting it fall. I didn’t bother saying anything else as I moved to the passenger side of her car, pulling it open and grabbing her heels from the seat.
“Oh, you don’t—”
“Don’t you dare move,” I commanded. My head snapped up to find her trying to slide off of her hood. My jaw jumped. “Diana, what the hell did I just say?”
Her mouth opened and closed a few times as I rounded the hood. When I reached for her foot to slide her heel on, she whispered, “I can do that myself.”
“I’m aware,” I said, my voice even, putting on her second shoe. “Does this thing have a donut or a spare?”
She blinked. “I’m sorry?”
“The car, Diana,” I clarified, looking out to my horse.
“It should have a full spare—”
My eyes met hers again. “Why were you cryin’?
She flinched but said nothing, fiddling with her earbuds in her hand. I watched her for a moment as she looked everywhere but at me. “Diana,” I called, trying to soften my voice as much as I could.
She shook her head, the last few moments forgotten as her bottom lip began to tremble. “You don’t have to do this, you know? You can just call Denver to come get me.”
“You two got a meeting?” I asked, studying her profile.
Nodding, she wiped the tear that had just escaped with the back of her thumb. “Yeah,” she pushed out, trying to blow past her emotions. “I was in a rush and ran over something on the main road.”
I moved then, going back to the passenger side to grab her bag.
“Mr. Mags, what are you—”
I was back in front of her, towering over her, her knees spread for me. “Stop fucking calling me that,” I clipped, anger coating my voice.
“I—ahh!”
I had her back in my arms again, her fingers digging into my shoulders. The way her body curved in my arms, pressed against my chest, made me feel like I was on top of the world.
“You don’t have to carry me around. I am perfectly capable of walking,” she huffed.
Slowly, I turned my head to look down at her, the shadow of my hat covering us both. “You’re right where you need to be,” I murmured as I approached Midnight.
Sucking in a breath she turned her gaze from to me to Midnight, her skin paling. “I can’t—”
“Takin’ you up to the main house for your meeting, and I’ll get your tire taken care of,” I informed her, getting ready to set her on the saddle. In a flash, her arms were locked around my neck tightly, her body tense and shaking with fear.
My spine stiffened and, instinctively, I backed away from my horse.
Diana’s voice trembled against my shoulder as she rasped, “Please, don’t put me on the horse.”
“Never,” I promised, reading her fear like an open book.
“I-I’m scared to death of them,” she rasped, her voice cracking as her breath hit my neck. “Please, Mags.”
Please, Mags.
Please, Mags.
Please, Mags.
Please, Mags.
Please, Mags.
Please, Mags.
Two words. Two little words, and I was ready to give her the world. Two little words and I was ready to be hers. Forever. I looked up to the sky above, trying to hold onto my sanity as her power over me threatened to take it.
I was not allowed to be hers. I could never be hers, and she could never be mine. Even though my mind knew I would never be hers, my body knew different—-my heart knew different.
Hell, my fucking soul knew different.
Focus, Mags.
Focus, Mags.
Focus, Mags.
Focus, Mags.
Focus, Mags.
Focus, Mags.
“Hey,” I called softly, turning away from the horse. “Look at me.” When she didn’t, I tipped my chin down, getting further into in her space as my arms tightened around her, my fingers pressing into the flesh of her leg.
She didn’t move, crying softly into my shirt, her shoulders shaking.
God fucking damn—
“Firefly, beautiful, look at me.” The words came out as a plea, a forbidden, unforgivable plea.
Diana’s head snapped up then, her eyes wet with tears as emotions swirled within them. Our faces were inches apart now, and I could practically taste the mint on her breath.
“Mags,” she whispered.
The sound of my name on her lips was a fairytale in and of itself, the happy ending that years ago, was so out of reach, it damn neared insanity. Everything I wanted to say was on the tip of my tongue and the need to claim her mouth, to find out if she tasted at sweet as she sounded—
A truck engine rumbled behind me and my neck twisted to find Kings’ shit box coming down the lane, dusting flying behind it. I looked back to down to Diana, taking in her honey golden hair and the blush blooming brightly on her cheeks.
I wanted to damn her for being so beautiful, and yet, I could only damn myself for being in awe the beauty she’d given me.
“I’m sorry I scared you,” I said, meaning it. Scaring her was the last thing I meant to do. It was the last thing I ever wanted to do on this Earth. Women like Diana didn’t deserved to be scared and preyed on.
They deserved to be worshiped.
“Mags, I—”
“Gonna put you down now, Ms. Harper,” I said, clearing my throat and ignoring the flash of pain in her eyes.
Ms. Harper.
I’d never once called her that, but for my own sake, I needed to get her out of my fucking arms and as far away from me as possible. As Kings pulled up, I set her on her feet in the grass gently and backed away, each step more painful than the last. With the greatest amount of effort I could muster, I pulled my eyes away from her, finding Kings’ gray ones as he walked towards us.
“What happened?” he demanded, his head snapping over to Diana. “You alright?”
I couldn’t look at her, so instead, I looked at my boots as she explained her tire.
“Mags.”
My head snapped up. “Yeah?”
“Did you find the calf?” Kings pressed.
“Nope. Found your lawyer instead,” I answered coolly.
Minutes later, after Denver had taken Diana back up to the ranch and I was halfway done changing her tire, the calf finally showed itself, coming out of trees about a hundred yards away from me on the fence line. I tightened the last bolt on the rim and shook my head.
“Little shit,” I muttered.