34
T he next morning, I wake to the shadows cast by the sun through the blinds. A new day.
A new world.
And beside me, Fallon.
So goddamn gorgeous in our bed.
A tangle of tan limbs, her caramel hair spilling over her back like silk. She’s burrowed deep into the pillow, one hand tossed across my chest like even in sleep she’s claiming me.
I run my hand down the arch of her spine, palm shaping to her curves.
Claiming. It’s damn near what we did last night.
She’s mine, and I’m hers. There’s no walking away this time.
Soon, I’ll say the words. But first, Fallon heals.
Quietly, I get out of bed and hunt around for my clothes. After we returned home last night, we fucked like animals. Fallon pressed up against the wall, legs spread wide while she moaned my name and scratched her nails down my back. She dripped for me, and like a famished man, I ate it up.
After tossing on some clothes and brewing a pot of coffee, I creep back into the room.
Settling on the edge of the bed, I lean over and press a kiss to her temple.
Her hazel eyes flutter open. “Hi.”
I drop my mouth to her ear, not missing the way she practically purrs as I run my hand over the curve of her spine. “I’ll meet you in the field.”
She nods and lifts a hand to palm my cheek. “Okay.” She stares into my eyes, walls down, guard dropped.
I give her one last slow kiss before forcing my ass out of the cottage. If I stay any longer, we’ll be back in bed and not a damn thing will get done.
Because right now, I have a plan.
A plan to get Fallon back to herself.
It might not be much, but it’s a start.
As I cross through the tall grass of the field, my mind keeps drifting back to last night.
Fallon weeping on the side of the road. Clinging to me like I was her rock.
It broke my goddamn heart. Took everything I had in me to hold it together for her.
I never knew how much she’d been suffering.
In bars, when someone touched her wrist, she’d flinch.
How, when she suddenly left town, it was because she felt guilty.
To spare us the burden of what she was going through.
Fuck, I wish I had known. I hate that she hid it from everyone.
Pushed her friends and family away to spare us her pain.
But that’s Fallon. Stubborn. Strong.
It’s why I love her. I love her for her beauty, but also her strength. I’ve never known someone braver than Fallon. And that includes me.
What she said last night about hating herself because she didn’t see the real Aiden…that’s how I feel about Rand Younger. Why I have never told anyone what happened. Guilt’s a motherfucker, made even worse when you doubt yourself.
I walk to the barn and outfit Lawless with a custom saddle and extra-long stirrups.
It’s been two and a half months. I should wait. But I can’t. She needs this.
I’m leading Lawless out of the barn when Fallon appears. She limps through the grass, dressed in jeans and a rodeo T-shirt, barefoot and hesitant. Her eyes are puffy from last night’s tears. The crisp morning breeze ruffles her mussed hair.
Seeing me, she stops. I see the hitch of her breath, see fear—joy—flash across her pretty face. “Really?”
“Really.” I give her a look. “You’ll do it with or without me, so it might as well be with me.”
She studies her horse then swallows. “What if I get hurt?”
“If you get hurt, I’ll kill you.”
She smiles. “I always knew you were a sadist.”
She’s right. My love for Fallon is powerful and unwavering, but it’s also feral and ungovernable.
One day, she’ll get hurt again. When that happens, I won’t survive it. But I also won’t survive without her. Which means I run her madness into the ground with her. I protect her and her wild, untamed beauty. Fallon.
My cowgirl.
I pat the saddle, tugging the length of leather. “I made the stirrups extra-long for support. We’ll start with a walk. A slow walk.”
Doubt and desire warring in her expression, she runs a hand over Lawless’s caramel flank.
I nod at the horse. “You can do it, Trouble.”
She glances over her shoulder at me. A smile. So soft, so trusting, it nearly brings me to my knees.
I hold my breath as she readies herself to mount.
I move behind her, gripping the saddle horn to steady Lawless, our bodies close. When she turns to face me, I grip her chin. “You won’t fall. Never again. I won’t let you.”
She shivers, her hazel gaze racing over my face. “I go first,” she says, a teasing challenge in her eyes.
I grin.
With flourish, Fallon sticks her foot in the stirrup and mounts Lawless perfectly. Fucking perfect. All her weight kept on her good leg as she swings the right leg over quickly. And then she’s in the saddle.
Her body shakes with an exhale as she grips the reins.
I stare at Fallon, drinking in her beauty, all the sharp, fierce angles of her face. Happiness radiates from her, brighter than the sun overhead. Tears shine in her eyes.
She glances down at me, arches a brow. “You comin’ up, or you plan to make me wait all day?”
I chuckle then swing myself easily up behind her.
“Showoff,” she says.
I press a kiss to her crown. “C’mon, cowgirl. Show me you still got it.”
With trembling hands, Fallon snaps the reins and uses her good leg to nudge Lawless into a walk.
The slow gait gently rocks us back and forth. “Does it hurt?”
She keeps her gaze straight ahead. “No.” Even if it did, she’d never admit it.
We walk Lawless far out into the pasture. The crisp morning wind ruffles Fallon’s hair. Then we stop, taking in the sunrise. I could watch a million sunrises for the rest of my life, but the sky’s only pretty because Fallon’s around to show me its light.
I wrap an arm around her waist, splaying my hand possessively over her stomach. On a sigh, she leans back, her body soft and warm against me. The steady beat of her heart thrums against my bones.
“It’s beautiful,” she says.
“It is,” I tell her, but I’m looking at her. I drop my mouth to her ear. “You’re that sky there, Trouble. Blue.”
She scoffs. “So, I’m sad.”
“Shut up and listen to me.” I kiss her shoulder. “Blue and boundless. Ceaseless and amazing. You never stop. You never end, cowgirl.”
She smiles. “Nine lives.”
“Nine lives, baby.”
Fallon sighs. “I like the sky.” Her mouth opens, closes. “I like…I like you, Wyatt.”
“About goddamn time,” I mutter.
Fallon’s shoulders rotate back as she twists, catching my mouth on hers. Her kiss makes my chest ache. Our breath comes in sharp gasps, each one pulling us down deeper.
No one but her. No one but this woman.
When we pull back, a gorgeous smile graces her face.
“I thought I’d never have this again,” she marvels, voice soft as she reaches for the reins. “But you gave it to me. Why?” Her question is quiet, curious.
It sounds so simple, so easy, and it is.
My throat wells, but I say, “Because you wanted it.”
Her wide, hazel eyes lock on mine. Then she swallows and says, “Thank you, Wyatt. For all you’ve done for me. The house. Last night. Giving me grace when I didn’t deserve it.”
My breath promptly gets stuck in my lungs.
I’ve seen her naked, know how she sounds when she comes, felt the burning slap of her palm on my cheek, and yet this…
This is more intimate than I’ve ever had her.
This is Fallon. In all her rage, her glory, her beauty. Sharp, cutting, wondrous.
Mine.
My trouble.
My cowgirl.
Love of my life, and I’d have it no other way.
I lift her tattooed hand to my lips, sweeping a kiss over her knuckles. Later, the words will come. But right now…
Fallon inclines her head to the sunrise and grins. “Let’s ride.”