CHAPTER TWENTY #2
That urgency to flee still pulses through me.
My heart thunders like a herd of hoofbeats as his presence appears beside me and I’m no longer able to ignore him.
A cloud of his crisp winter forest scent assaults me.
He must’ve showered recently. Images of him drenched under the hot spray attempt to crack my composure.
I keep my gaze firmly fixed ahead, trying not to breathe.
“Mornin’, menace,” he drawls.
Gosh, even his voice sounds like the best sex I’ve ever had. I barely suppress a shudder. My toes curl in my boots.
“Hey,” I reply curtly.
Anything more than that might betray the calm I’m feigning. His exhale is disappointed. Serves him right after mounting me like a stallion while demanding commitment.
But Byron doesn’t relent. I fight not to squirm as he remains rooted next to me. His determination to get a reaction rolls up the sleeves of his flannel as if it’s that warm in the arena. My deprived eyeballs definitely notice every delicious inch of toned forearm he reveals.
Ronnie’s loud yelp snaps me out of it. “You’re hurt too! Just like Frannie.”
I twist in the saddle to finally acknowledge him and see what the fuss is about. It’s a mistake. His molten stare is burning into me, blazing a scorching path all over my face. Damn, the man can smolder. Sweat tickles my hairline while I choke on a staggered exhale.
“Where’re you hurt?” Byron’s gruff tone scrapes over me.
My throat is too dry. “Uhhh…”
“She’s got spots on her neck,” Ronnie announces.
His eyes lower to the mentioned area and heat like melted chocolate. “Not bad.”
I scoff. “Admiring your work?”
“Can you blame me?”
My shrug is dismissive. “I didn’t even notice. Ronnie had to point them out.”
His expression hardens. “Looks serious to me. Like someone wanted to get a message across.”
“Whatever you gotta tell yourself.”
“I think Frannie got bitten by a monster, but she’s a superhero and slayed the dragon with her knife,” Ronnie cuts in.
“Let’s go with that,” I utter in agreement. My fingers discreetly cross in hopes she won’t ask her dad for a blade.
Byron grunts. “Not how I would’ve described it.”
“Were you there, Daddy? Is that why your arm’s bleeding?”
That’s when I remember he’s raised her concern as well.
There are four small gouges between his wrist and elbow.
It’s almost as if someone with very sharp nails grasped onto him with all their might while in the throes of passion.
Satisfaction thrums through me—warm and potent and horribly misplaced. Shit.
“Just a scratch.” His rasp is soft, but there’s humor laced in the low notes.
“Did you wrangle a beast too?” I flutter my lashes in mock interest.
“She tried to buck me off, but I got the job done.”
My cheeks go up in flames, probably putting his other marks on display. That will only encourage him. If there were reins on Greta’s neck, I’d take my chances steering her away from this disaster.
Ronnie goes still suddenly, distracting me once again. The little girl’s eyes go wide and she crosses her legs. She clutches herself with an urgency we’ve all felt.
“I have to go potty! Daddy, you need to hold Greta.”
As if she’s going anywhere. I’m convinced this horse is part statue. But Byron dutifully takes his daughter’s spot by the horse’s head.
And then Ronnie is running off to the viewing spectator lounge built into the far end of the arena. The awareness that I’m alone with Byron clenches my inner muscles as if I haven’t had enough. I hiss at the twinge spreading from the sensitive area.
His brow lift. “Problem?”
My shoulders straighten. “You branded me.”
He tips the brim of his hat. “Ditto, darlin’.”
“Don’t even start with that.”
“How could I forget,” he chuckles. “You’re much more of a menace.”
“Which is one of the first things you ever said to me,” I recall absently.
“You remember?”
“My memory is still sharp at twenty-four. Don’t make a big deal about it.”
That smolder makes a captivating reappearance. The man can snatch the words straight from my mouth with that look alone. Maybe I didn’t notice before now or he hadn’t turned on the full force.
“But look how far we’ve come.” That fiery gaze centers on the hickeys adorning my neck. “There’s no question you’re mine.”
“Cool the obsession, stud. These are just hazards of hookups,” I sigh. “We’ll have to be more careful.”
“You’re saying there’s a next time?”
“No!” I blurt.
“Do you regret it?”
The truth tumbles off my tongue before I can consider lying. “Not even a little bit.”
He bites his bottom lip, dragging the plump flesh between his teeth. I almost whimper. My upper body most definitely leans forward, tipping me off balance. Greta doesn’t twitch as I pinwheel in the saddle.
Byron steadies me easily. “Don’t be reckless.”
That’s hilarious coming from the disturbance himself. “I’d like to get down.”
“Why?” He smirks. “You look good up there.”
“This isn’t my idea of a safe space.”
His sturdy grip is around my waist in the next second. Before I can question him, a seamless motion sweeps me off the seat. My boots land in the dirt while my chest presses entirely too close to his. I scurry back two steps before instinct gets the better of me.
“Uh, thanks.”
Byron gives me another scorching look. “Did you enjoy the ride?”
My jaw drops. “We don’t need to discuss it in detail. You were there.”
“On Greta,” he amends.
“Oh.” If my face burns any hotter, I’ll have to bury myself in the snow. “Yes, she’s a very good girl.”
“You two make a great team,” he rumbles.
“Very funny. Are we done?”
“Somewhere else you need to be?”
My mind goes blank. I need at least an hour to decompress after this mental marathon. But admitting that is a weakness.
“Do I have to ask for permission?” I counter hotly.
He sighs, tugging at his hat almost in agitation. “I was thinking about taking Ronnie to visit Uncle Dennis. Want to join us?”
“Only if forced,” I mutter.
Byron flinches. “Not planning to do more of that.”
My nod appreciates that he’s admitting fault in his actions, but the follow-through remains to be seen. “I think I’ll spend the rest of the day testing the limits of this newfound freedom.”