by A. J. Pine
Then the screen went black.
She looked up at him, and he held his breath as his heart hammered in his chest.
“I can’t believe you did that,” she said softly. “In front of everyone. And that you spent the whole drive down here thinking I walked out on you.”
He just nodded slowly because what else could he do? She was right. He knew this woman would ruin him, and she had—obliterated him wholly and completely.
She laid the phone on the night table and grabbed his hand.
“You said something that night when I asked you not to ride. You said you’d never ask me to give up on my dream.”
“I did.”
“Then I accept your proposal, Luke Everett,” she said.
His brows rose.
“I will be there tomorrow to watch you get your eight seconds. And then, when you walk out of that arena injury free, we both get our second chance.” She tugged him closer. “If you’ll still give me one after what I put you through.”
He threaded his fingers into her hair, palms cradling the back of her neck as he rested his forehead against hers.
“You really would have pulled out of the competition for me?” she asked.
“I was banking on you seeing things from my perspective—realizing that with you in my corner there’s no way I’m getting knocked down again.”
She backhanded him on the shoulder. “Stop being so charming.”
He laughed. “I think Lucy was right for once,” he said.
Her brows furrowed. “Lucy?”
“Jenna’s psychic chicken. I think you two met at the farmers market.”
She smiled, and damn if she didn’t light up the whole room.
“Thank you,” he said, his voice hoarse.
“No,” she said. “Thank you.”
“For what?” he asked.
She tilted her head up and winked, something he’d so often done to her. “For taking that damned towel off already.”
He barked out a laugh. “As you wish, sweetheart.”
And then he did.
Chapter Twenty-Five
First he’d bared his soul to her, and now here he was, bare in the most literal sense of the term, and she was speechless.
“I think this is the part where you lose that extremely sexy chef jacket and let me see what’s underneath.”
Lily looked down at her attire then back at the beautiful naked man standing in front of her. She imagined the mess her hair must be, the makeup most likely smudged around her eyes and possibly streaked down her cheeks.
“I’m a disaster,” she said. “And you’re…” She looked him up and down, then threw her hands in the air. “You’re this.”
He raised his brows, then unbuttoned her jacket, sliding it gently off her shoulders. Then came the tank top she wore underneath and seconds later, her bra. She stepped out of her clogs—because of course she was wearing sensible shoes being on her feet all night—and Luke slid her pants and underwear off in one fluid movement.
He rested his hands on her hips, then spun her to face the mirror on the wall behind him.
There they were, no masks or walls between them.
“And you’re this,” he said from behind her, trailing his hand down her torso, then over her center as he slowly sank one finger, then two, inside her.
She cried out, her head falling back onto his shoulder.
“And what’s that?” she asked, barely able to form the words.
“The beautiful, brilliant, sometimes maddening woman I would have given up everything for.”
He slid his finger out so achingly slow she thought she might lose it right there. Then he backed her toward the bed, turning to face her before he lowered her onto her back, then climbed over her.
“Maddening, huh?” she asked, her eyes narrowing.
He nodded. “That oil-and-water stuff was no act, sweetheart. We’re going to drive each other crazy.”
She grinned, hooking her arms around his neck. “Then why don’t you take the wheel, cowboy,” she said, her knees falling open.
His hard, thick length slid between her legs, and her back bowed. He dipped his head, brushing a kiss over a pebbled nipple, then took her into his mouth as she whimpered and writhed.
He nudged her opening, his tip sinking in with ease, then back out again to swirl around her swollen center. Her fingernails dug into his back.
“Stop teasing,” she pleaded, but he only responded with a wicked grin.
“Now where’s the fun in that?” he asked.
She pursed her lips and narrowed her gaze at him. “I may be in love with you, Luke Everett, but that doesn’t mean you can just—”
He nipped at one of her nipples, and she gasped, back arching.
“Just what?” he asked, feigned innocence in his tone.
She hooked her legs around his hips and then, only because she caught him off guard, flipped him onto his back so that she now straddled him.
He laughed, and damn if that grin of his didn’t melt her completely.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile like that,” she said, realization in her tone.
“I guess that’s what happens when the woman I’m crazy about tells me she loves me. It’s an involuntary response. You’re just going to have to get used to it.”
She kissed him, and his tongue parted her lips so that she tasted nothing but Luke—this man who would challenge her, who would sometimes drive her mad just as she would him, and who would love her through it all.
“I love you,” she said again, testing his theory, and those blue eyes crinkled at the corners. Then she sank over him, slowly letting him stretch her, filling her so completely she knew that when this night was over she would come completely undone.
He growled, fisting his hands in her hair.
“I love you, too,” he whispered against her mouth.
She nipped at his bottom lip and felt him smile against her.
“Good,” she said. “Because it’s my turn to drive.”
She didn’t wake to an empty space beside her the next morning but instead to Luke’s alarm clock on his phone. From there everything moved too quickly, and she was kissing him good-bye at the door before she’d even had a chance to have a cup of coffee.
“You need to eat something,” she said, playfully tapping the brim of his cowboy hat. She’d seen him on a horse and working at the ranch, but today was different. Clean, polished boots sat below the cuffs of his well-worn, well-fitting jeans. And his red-and-blue-plaid shirt was tucked in. She’d memorized every dip and curve of muscle that lay beneath the trappings of her soon-to-be bull rider. All she wanted was to see it all again that night—to know he was coming back to her in one piece.
“There’s a coffee shop on the walk over. I’ll grab something on the way. I just need to get there, check in, and sort of be in the space.” He kissed the top of her head. “It’s okay if you think it sounds crazy.”
She shook her head. “I get it,” she said. “That’s why I liked spending time at the winery in the weeks before the wedding. Getting used to a venue makes it a bit less scary on the big day.”
He grinned. “Did it work?”
She laughed. “I think it’s safe to say that nothing other than the food went according to plan last night.”
“You did an amazing job,” he said. “I don’t think I told you that.”
She held his cheeks in her hands, his stubble scratching her palms. “Thank you,” she said. “But I’m glad it ended with me here. With you.” She pressed her lips to his, and he hummed a soft sigh against her. “Does it work for you?” she added.
He nodded. “Except once.”
Her throat tightened. “What do you mean?”
Luke blew out a breath. “When I got thrown off four weeks ago, it wasn’t for lack of training or being reckless or whatever anyone else thinks. It was because I saw you that morning—when you signed the papers and then the whole thing with Sara and the we
dding and you not knowing who she was until it was too late. I watched that all unfold and tried to fucking stop it but couldn’t.”
She shook her head. “None of that was your fault, Luke.”
He clenched and unclenched his teeth.
“It was your birthday, and I said nothing. And all I could think—even when they opened the gate and let the bull out with me sitting up top—was that you’d just had one of your shittiest days, and I couldn’t do a goddamn thing about it.”
Her hands slid down so they splayed against his chest.
“What are you saying?” she asked.
His chest slowly rose and fell with his next breath.
“That my head wasn’t in it,” he said simply. “And that’s no one’s fault but mine. But today is different,” he assured her. “Today you’re here, and everything is different.” He kissed her, long and slow and sweet.
“Me being there won’t distract you?” she asked hesitantly.
He shook his head, then pressed a kiss to her temple. “I’m not going to fall,” he said.
She nodded.
“I believe you,” she said.
“Because from here on out, it’s like you said—only the truth between us, sweetheart. And I’ll be walking out of that arena. Not carried on some damned stretcher.”
His lips claimed hers once more before he finally said, “I gotta go.”
Her throat tightened. “I love you, Luke Everett.”
“I love you, Lily Green.” Then he grinned.
“What?” she asked as he opened the door and started backing through it.
“I was just thinking about how someday, maybe—should you so choose—that might not be your name anymore.”
Her mouth fell open as he winked and then pulled the door shut behind him.
For several long seconds she stayed there, rooted in place, as she let the entirety of the past four weeks sink in. Then she laughed at her reaction to his use of the word proposal last night. In the early morning light, it didn’t seem so crazy anymore.
“Are you sure you don’t want something, Lil? Even a bottle of water?”
The concern was evident in Ava’s voice, but Lily just fisted her hands in her lap, her knuckles white against the black pants she’d worn last night. She’d traded her chef’s coat for a plain white T-shirt Luke had in his duffel bag. Even though it was clean, she could still smell the memory of him on the fabric. But even that did little to comfort her, especially now that she’d watched three other riders get thrown from the bull’s back.
She shook her head. “I’m too nervous.”
Walker and Owen sat at the end of the aisle, sharing a box of popcorn. Jack sipped his soda. And Ava—well, she kept trying to be the comforting friend, and Lily kept brushing her off.
She groaned. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” Ava asked.
Lily turned to face her friend, and although Jack kept his gaze straight ahead on the arena, she knew he was listening, too.
“I should have taken him up on his offer not to ride. Then none of us would be sitting through this. And I wouldn’t feel so…And Jack wouldn’t have to…And Luke would be—”
“Resentful. Regretful. Downright ornery. And we already have Walker to fill that role,” Jack said, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He was joining in the conversation, but he still kept a trained eye on those metal gates, behind which was the bull Luke would be climbing onto any minute. “I’m not happy he’s going out there,” he admitted. “But I have to believe that he’s not being reckless, that he truly does know what he’s doing.” He turned to Lily now, his blue eyes full of crystal-clear resolve. “I’d trust him with my own life. What kind of brother would I be if I didn’t trust him with his own?”
Ava grabbed Jack’s hand and gave him what Lily could tell was a reassuring squeeze.
Lily wasn’t the only one letting go of control today. Jack was finally stepping back and letting his brother be who he needed to be.
“It’s just eight seconds, right?” Lily asked. “Eight seconds and this is all over.”
Jack chuckled. “Or longer,” he said. “Eight seconds to qualify, but if he stays on longer…”
Lily bit down hard on her lip, and Ava’s hand closed over one of her white-knuckled fists. She looked from Lily to Jack and then back to Lily again.
“Just think about how Luke’s gonna feel when he sees the two of you out here.”
Lily forced a smile. They were sitting right up front. If he was looking, Luke could find them.
“Up next is Luke Everett. After getting brutally thrown just four weeks ago, Luke is back in the chute ready to show us what he intended to do on his last ride. For those who don’t know, Everett has been an integral competitor in the rodeo circuit for years now, and while today’s event will allow riders to qualify for the finals, today will be his last ride before he retires.”
Lily swallowed hard at those words, imagining Luke was doing the same. She tilted her head to try and see him behind the gate of the chute, and as she did, he reseated his hat on his head and then looked right at her, like he knew she was there waiting for him.
He smiled and nodded once. And just like that, the gate flew open, and the bull bucked out into the arena, Luke Everett on his back.
Lily stood up against the metal bars separating her and the rest of the audience from the arena floor. She watched in awe of what he was doing—and then in horror as the bull kicked up its back legs and she saw him wince as his shoulder jerked.
“Oh my God,” she said, realizing Ava was standing next to her, and then Jack, Owen, and Walker. All of them were on their feet.
“Goddammit,” Jack said. “It’s dislocated again.”
“Three…four…five…” the spectators chanted.
She didn’t look away. The worst could still happen, but she didn’t look away. Because despite everything, his hand still gripped that rope.
“I’m not running,” she whispered, pretending he could hear. “No matter what. So don’t. Let. Go.”
The crowd continued.
Six.
Seven.
Eight.
Epilogue
Close your eyes.”
Lily groaned. “Why does it even matter? Your hand is covering half my face. I couldn’t peek even if I tried!”
He grinned at the annoyance in her tone, loving that he could still push her buttons.
“Are you trying?” he accused.
Another groan. Another button pushed. Another smile from him she couldn’t yet see.
“I am not.”
He laughed quietly, imagining her rolling those emerald eyes, whether they were open or not.
She tripped over her own feet as she made her way around the side of the house—evidence of her innocence.
“Careful, sweetheart,” he teased. “We don’t want any accidents before the big reveal.”
She steadied herself, her shoulders against his chest. But he didn’t mistake her hesitation.
“It’s okay,” he said, his voice softening. “You can lean on me, Lily.”
She let out a nervous laugh. “I have seen your backyard before, you know,” she said. “How much has it changed since the last time I was here?”
The night she’d walked out—and then run across the state line.
That had already been two weeks ago, but the memory of it still stung. He had to remind himself that she stayed not just after his ride in Anaheim but also while he remained in town to see a specialist about his injury. That she was here now, and that’s what mattered.
She stumbled again over a divot in the grass, and the hand over her eyes quickly slid to her torso, catching her before she fell.
“Thank you,” she said, and they both paused for several seconds. “And yes, my eyes are still closed.”
He chuckled softly in her ear. “Maybe I didn’t think this through one hundred percent,” he admitted. “Probably would have been easier to just walk
through the house.” He pressed his lips to her neck, and he felt her shiver against his touch.
He urged her to move again, and after only ten more steps he stopped, as did she.
“Okay,” he said, letting go of her completely. “Open.”
He moved to her side so he could watch her reaction.
She blinked a few times, her eyes adjusting to the sunlight, and then gasped when she saw what he’d kept secret all this time.
The open piece of earth that was his extensive backyard was now fenced on all sides, and out ahead, chomping on a mouthful of grass, was Crossroad Ranch’s newest calf.
Lucky.
She turned to him, her jaw hanging open, and he gave her his best cocky, assured grin, one that he hoped said something along the lines of, I win.
“It’s my cow,” she said softly. “You had this all set up while we were away?”
He shook his head. “Our cow. And I did the fence while you were in Phoenix. I needed something to keep my mind off—well—you.” He shrugged. “But she’s just the start. I figure I could build a small arena right there.” He pointed toward the right of the field. “And plans for the barn are already drawn up. Contractors are coming over tomorrow.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “And what are you doing with this arena, Mr. Everett?” She took a step closer, ran her fingers along the sling that held his shoulder in place while it healed.
He raised a brow. “I meant what I said about retiring.” He kissed that crinkle of worry between her brows. “But it doesn’t mean I have to give it up completely. I can teach kids how to trick ride, or I could help the Callahans board horses. I just—I did what I set out to do. On my terms. But I need something else that’s just for me. Something beyond the ranch and vineyard.”
She nodded. “I’m here,” she said. “Whatever you decide, I’m here. In your corner. No more running.” She leaned up to press a kiss against his lips.
He’d never get tired of that feeling when the kiss deepened, and her body relaxed, melting into his. He still had a hard time believing any of this was real. But here they were.