17. Sage #2
He merely raises his brows and stares back at me as if to say, what are you going to do about it?
I search for Gemma. Surely she can’t be happy with this. That assumption dies when I find her chatting happily with Quinn and Riley.
Huh.
Holden’s still pinning me with his gaze. And dammit. He knows I won’t argue with him in front of all these people. But I don’t like how high-handed he’s being. Not one damn bit.
After snatching my purse from his hands, I force a smile and say goodbye to the others through gritted teeth. Without waiting for Holden and Taryn, I head for the entrance.
The bar has gotten even more crowded. I swear the whole population of Silverford is here. It’s hard to push through the people filling the space.
A hand on my arm stops me as I’m trying to maneuver past a group of oblivious patrons.
With a gentleness that belies the set of his jaw, Holden guides me behind him. Then, keeping hold of me, he parts the crowd with his size and sheer presence. Too thrown by his behavior to argue, I follow in his wake until we’re on the sidewalk out front.
When the night air cools my flushed skin, I realize how hot it was inside and let out a little sigh. Though I wouldn’t admit it to Holden, I’m surprisingly relieved to be returning to my quiet little cabin.
Luckily, I don’t have to worry about a tense drive back to the ranch because Taryn chats happily the whole way. But once we drop her off at the main house, that quietness I was dreading fills the truck, growing thicker as we follow the road that winds to our cabins.
As soon as Holden pulls the truck to a stop, I don’t wait for him to walk around to open the door for me.
I open it myself. I watch my step as I get out.
Falling over now, when I’m annoyed with him, would be unforgivable.
Unfortunately, before I can make my feelings known by stomping away, his big body blocks my path.
“You should’ve waited for me.”
Is he seriously offended that I didn’t let him open my door?
I let out a huff. “I’m annoyed with you.”
“Why? Because I stopped you from making a mistake?”
My anger flares again, hot in my veins despite the cool air. “It was my mistake to make,” I snap. “Do you have any idea what it’s like when people constantly expect you to follow their guidance just because they think they know better or because it suits them?”
Something shifts in his expression, but I keep going, my emotions like a tap turned on full for the first time in years. “You’re just like everyone else, treating me like an action figure to be moved around however you want. I’ve had enough.”
A tendon in his jaw flexes. “That doesn’t mean you need to go home with the first cowboy to put his hat on your head.”
I throw my hands up. “That stupid rule again. Just because a woman wears a man’s hat doesn’t mean anything’s going to happen between them. Look, I’ll prove it.” On tiptoes, I reach up, snatch the hat off his head, and shove it down onto mine. “See? Now what?”
Holden’s eyes flash, then narrow. “You’re making a dangerous point, City.”
I smirk. “What are you going to do, Cowboy? Because I know you’re not going to—”
He takes one step forward and presses me against the side of his truck, cutting me off. With one swift move, his hands slide around my nape, his thumbs angling my face up.
Time slows to a crawl as I stare up at him. Is this what he meant when he talked about the rodeo, about the moment when everything else around you disappears? When you know that after the bell finally rings, everything will change?
His heated gaze searches mine as he pauses long enough for me to protest, to shake my head, to push him away.
I wet my lips instead.
He doesn’t need any more invitation. His hands grip my hair, and he crushes his mouth against mine. My lips part, needing to taste him as much as I need my next breath.
If he hesitated before, there’s no evidence of that now. His kiss is demanding, his tongue invading my mouth as if he owns it. I love every second, arching toward him and whimpering under the onslaught.
I’m angry. He’s angry. This shouldn’t be happening. And yet it’s as if the tension between us has exploded into something hotter.
So much hotter.
The hard ridge of his erection pushes against me, igniting a throbbing ache deep in my core. I whimper, and he lets go of my hair and grips my ass, pulling me tighter against him.
What would it be like if we let this continue? If I unzipped his jeans and reached inside, how big would he be?
The urge to find out is almost overwhelming. I raise one leg and wrap it around his hip so I can get the friction I desperately need.
Sparks race through my body. It’s overwhelming how good kissing Holden feels—like an addictive rush.
The fleeting thought has doubt twisting in my stomach.
I can’t risk getting addicted to this. And I absolutely can’t let it go any farther. Not if I want to stay focused while I’m here. If his kiss can burn through me like this, I can’t imagine how incredible sex would be.
Or how things would work between us afterward.
I’ve barely registered the sudden doubt when Holden abruptly pulls back. His pupils are dilated, and he’s breathing hard.
We both are.
I rest my back against his truck, pressing my palms to the cool metal. My lips are tingling, and I don’t doubt my nipples are hard enough to be visible through the material of my dress.
From the intensity of his expression, I almost expect him to reach for me again. Instead, a muscle ticks in his jaw, and his throat moves in a hard swallow. Then he reaches out and takes his hat back.
I’d almost forgotten I was wearing it.
The moment he pulls it down low, shading his eyes, I can no longer read his expression, and the night suddenly feels colder.
“Be careful what rules you try to break. You should know by now, this isn’t New York.” He nods toward my cabin. “Go inside. I’ll wait.”
I blink, and then my jaw drops.
Of all the—
I’m battling so many emotions—irritation, lust, confusion, embarrassment, hurt—that I want to scream. But there’s no way I’ll give him that satisfaction when he’s so clearly shut down whatever he might have been feeling.
Or maybe I’m reading too much into it, and the kiss didn’t mean anything to him at all.
It’s not like I can be stubborn and stand here all night just to prove another point, though. So I spin on my heel and stalk to the front door. I don’t look back as I open it and slip inside. Or when I close it behind me.
But before turning on the lights, I peek out the window, expecting to see him back in the driver’s seat already. Instead, he’s right where I left him, hands shoved into his pockets, his hard jaw outlined by the glow of the moon.
Memories of the kiss sear through me, and I close my eyes and take a deep breath in.
It wasn’t real. He was just proving me wrong. Which is good because I figured out all on my own that it was a mistake.
So why is there a hollow ache behind my ribs?
With a sigh, I close the shutters and make my way to the bedroom.
Being out here was supposed to clear my mind, not confuse it even more.