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  I unlatch the gate and step inside, closing it behind me. She shoots me a worried glance. “She struggled with lateral drills yesterday and dropped her shoulder. Just now, she flinched while I brushed her,” Denver rushes out, obviously worried.

  “Hey, girl,” I address Liberty with my palms down, letting her smell me before running my hands over her muzzle to hold her halter. “Want me to hold her or get the other side?”

  “Just hold her if you don’t mind,” she mumbles, continuing to check each of her ribs before switching to the other side.

  I keep her still and try not to distract her so that Denver can tell if there’s any change in her demeanor. When Denver rubs one particular rib, Liberty’s ears flatten, and she starts dancing. “Yep, I think you got it.”

  “Let’s see.” She runs her fingertips down another rib and the next. Then, she comes back to rib in question. Liberty’s tail starts switching and her breaths come shorter and faster. “Yep, poor girl. Your rib is subluxated,” she says sadly before bracing her hands on her hips.

  “Hey,” I whisper and put my fingertip under her chin to bring her gaze to mine. Her eyes are filled with tears. “It’s gonna be OK. We’ll get Stan to call in a chiropractor. It’s common and easily treatable.”

  “I know,” she sniffs. “I hate it when they’re in pain though. It’s stupid, I know. But I can’t help it.”

  “Come here,” I say, curling an arm around her and bringing her to my side before she can protest. “I’m not surprised. You have a lot of love to give.” She shakes her head against my chest. “Yes, you’re a fighter and a lover. Best of both worlds.”

  She snorts.

  “Liberty,” I nod at the golden beauty, “tell her, us badasses are amazing at coming back from messed up ribs. You’ll be back on barrels in no time.” Liberty nickers and nuzzles Denver with her nose. Denver’s chuckle moves through me, and it feels so damn good, I lean in and plant a kiss on top of her head.

  Denver wants to take Indy out for some exercise, so I convince her to join Maggie, Pete, and me on a short trail ride while she waits for the chiropractor. Our ride is an easy, but quiet, one. She’s far away, worrying about her horse, I’m sure. The lovebirds ride ahead and flirt with each other. When they lean over and meet in the middle for a stolen kiss, Denver groans, which makes me laugh.

  “They’re pretty disgusting,” I complain.

  “Ugh! If it weren’t so sweet and genuine, I’d vomit. They’re so freakin’ cute, though.”

  “It’s cute until you have to walk in on them making out a thousand times a day. Wonder how they’re keeping their grades up when they have their tongues shoved down each other’s throats ninety percent of the time.” That gets a laugh out of her.

  “So if you had a girlfriend, you wouldn’t be the type to lose yourself in a little PDA every now and then?” My gaze flies to hers. Her eyes are wide, and a blush steals over her cheeks like she didn’t mean to voice that.

  I give her a half grin. “I didn’t say that.”

  She fiddles with her reins before asking, “So you’re not entirely anti-relationship?”

  Reaching out with one hand, I run the back of my hand over her knee. “Depends on the girl.”

  “Hey, slow pokes,” Maggie calls back to us, as I retract my wayward hand. “Y’all ready to head back?”

  Denver kicks her mare in answer, leaving me to bring up the rear as we take the trail back to the barn.

  After sending Maggie back with Pete in my truck, I wait for her, leaning against the hood of her truck. When she emerges from the barn, she looks like she’s in much better spirits.

  “Ready?” I ask, kicking off the bumper.

  “Yep, all set. Doc said I can work her lightly the rest of the week. He’ll be back to check on her this weekend.”

  “Good deal. Keys?” I ask, holding my palm out and fighting a smile at the argument I know is coming.

  She narrows her eyes, before biting out, “Umm … this is my ride. I’ll drive. But thanks!”

  “I prefer to drive if you don’t mind.”

  Crossing her arms over her chest, she asserts, “I do happen to mind.”

  “I want to take you somewhere. Stop being a pain in the ass.”

  Her eyes flare, and she gasps, “Pain in the …”

  “Ass,” I finish with a grin and a wink. “In the truck.” I round the hood and open the passenger door for her, resisting the urge to smack her right on that round ass as she hauls herself in the truck. I close the door behind her and walk to the driver’s side, watching her all the way. She’s looking everywhere but at me. That needs to change.

  Pulling out of the stables, I head back toward town, but pull off when I get to the road that leads to the creek.

  “Where are we going?”

  “To talk.”

  “To talk? We can’t talk back at campus?”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “No.”

  Once we reach the end of the dirt road, I tell her to stay put as I hop out and move to her side. I want to lean in and devour her and tell her she’s mine. That I’ve had enough of waiting around—but I know that’s probably not the wisest course of action. Might scare my skittish little Denver Dempsey, and I can’t have that.

  I open her door, holding back my natural instincts with a strength I didn’t realize I possessed. It’s then that I realize I’m breathing hard like I’ve been running a three-day marathon. Damn, I feel like it too. I ache all over—my muscles are sore, my heart pounding.

  She swings her legs out and takes me in. I can’t speak. Her eyes meet mine and hold me captive for what feels like an eternity. I feel like she hasn’t really looked at me in forever. “Oh, hell,” she murmurs, before curling her fingers in my belt loops and drawing me in.

  Her lips crash against mine before I wrap her braid around my fist, angling her head to get a firm grip of her mouth with mine. Fuck. This is what I’ve needed, and what I’ve been craving. She moans softly against my lips while her hands fit around my waist. I slow down and move my mouth over hers, tenderly yet assertively.

  Pulling back, I whisper, “Fucking missed you. So much. How do you sleep? How do you function?”

  “Who says I do?” she gasps.

  Biting her bottom lip softly brings the desired response—her mouth opening to me. I don’t waste another second, rubbing my tongue against hers. How long’s it been? Three weeks? She still tastes like sunshine. Smells like daisies. All my senses are firing with her. “Baby,” I say with wonder.

  “Mmm …” is her only response, her hands coming up to press against my shoulder blades. She pulls back some, but quickly leans back in, placing sweet, little kisses on the corners of my mouth before landing one more lingering kiss on the center of my lips.

  I open my eyes to find her intense, honeyed gaze focused on my mouth. “Denver?” I question.

  Her bright eyes find mine again, a small smile dancing in them. “Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, we need to talk.”

  I move back and let her slide from the truck. She stalks past me and pulls herself up on the hood, patting it so that I’ll join her. Exactly when she took control over this situation, I don’t know. I wipe clammy palms on my thighs before joining her.

  My ribs protest as I use my arms to situate myself beside her. Spinning, she folds her legs to sit Indian-style, her knee brushes against my hip.

  “I don’t want an arrangement,” she begins.

  I open my mouth to argue my case for more, but quickly close it with her next words. My eyes are riveted on hers.

  “I want more. I’m worth the commitment, the hearts and flowers, of being the only one, of being wooed and going on dates. Arrangement?” she asks, shaking her vigorously. “Been there. Done that. Burned the fucking t-shirt. I hurt Greer. I hurt myself. I’m done with that. If there’s any truth to what you said, I’m hoping you’re OK with more than that too.”

  Hot damn. I didn’t even have to b
eg. Patience wins the day. I pull one leg up so I can face her more easily. Running my hand over her calf, I confess, “Having you in my bed, waking up to you every morning, chatting with you on and off throughout the day, coming home to you … made my world perfect, despite all the heavy shit going down. I want you, Denver. All the time. Every hour. Every minute. I want your laughter, your tears, your joy, hell, even your pain. I’ve never wanted anything more in my life.” Her leg trembles under my hand. “I’m fucking tickled pink if that’s what you have in mind. That day I called you my girl?” She nods, her eyes wide. “I meant it, even then. I wanted the whole damn world to know, you included. I’ve wanted that since I first spotted you back in the spring at Texas. But I was trying to give you time to heal.”

  “Since Texas?” I nod with a knowing grin. Denver’s little tongue darts and licks her lips before rushing out, “What if I want you while I’m healing?”

  My heart pounds with excitement. “All the better.”

  Her hand cups mine, and I flip my wrist to thread my fingers through hers. She lets out a nervous laugh. “I’m far from perfect, Ransom, but I think I’m getting better.”

  “Who the fuck wants perfect? I just want you.” Leaning in, I brush my lips across hers for an all too-brief moment before she pushes me back with a tiny fist.

  “What about the other … thing. I won’t deny that I’m intrigued, but it makes me nervous.”

  I ease her back against the windshield as she unfolds her legs. I brace myself on my forearm and lean over her until our thighs meet. “Don’t be nervous about that. It’ll be new to both of us. I won’t push you do to anything you’re not ready to do. And if the sex is what’s got you worried, there’s no need. That’s a very small part of the equation, and not something we’ll be doing for a while yet.”

  “That’s just it. I’m not concerned about the sex part,” she says, as a blush spreads across her features. “It’s the other. I’m not stupid. I know the dominance you want to exert over me is the bigger appeal for you, but I don’t want to lose myself.”

  “Ah, little fighter,” I whisper, curling an escaped tendril around my finger. “All these defenses you have built up that you’ve been burying yourself with?” She nods. “Every last one of them will be stripped away, not only revealing who you truly are, who I see underneath all that, but also allowing you to live free in that, be strong in that.”

  She’s quiet for a minute, digesting what I’ve told her. “How can I be stronger and be myself if I’m submitting to you?”

  I ache to tell her that I think she’s a natural submissive. I sensed it when I first saw her, and I’ve known that for a while now. More than that, I know I’m the one to bring it out in her. She’s been submitting to me for a long time, even if she’s not aware of it. “Submitting to me won’t force you to lose yourself like you’re thinking. It’ll allow you to dump all this bullshit and give you the strength to be your true self. You have to trust me and communicate with me so that you can learn to trust yourself,” I tell her, settling for a truth that won’t scare the shit out of her. “I want your willful submission, Denver, meaning you want that too with your mind—” I trace my finger over her temple “—your heart—” I tap her heart before flattening my palm over it “—and your soul.” Her breathing turns ragged, and I glance up to gaze into her now widened eyes. “You’ll submit to me because you wouldn’t have it any other way, and when you do, you’ll get the fucking world. Not from me, though, from within.”

  She swallows hard before asking, “You said this is new for you too. Have you never had a … submissive?”

  “No, not like this. I’ve never shared anything like this with any girl. That doesn’t mean I don’t know what I want. I’ve just never seen that worth in anyone before you.”

  “Worth?” she asks, confusion apparent in her eyes.

  “This kind of relationship is more than your typical relationship. You have to be strong. Stronger than you could ever imagine, but I know you’re the one. I’ve known that for a long time, Denver.”

  “You’ve thought this through quite a bit,” she says with a nervous laugh.

  Leaning in, I press my lips to her soft, warm ones. “I’ve thought of little else ever since I caught you eyeballing my eight-track collection.”

  I feel her smile against mine. “I’m in, but I need to take it slow.”

  “Slow and steady. I’ve got you. I’ll never let you fall.” I barely finish my assurance when her lips press against mine, strong and full of promise.

  Chapter Three

  Denver

  THIS WEEK HAS ticked by at an infernal pace. I know I said I wanted to move slowly, but we’re talking snail’s pace here. I’ve spent nearly every night with Ransom either watching movies, chatting on the phone, texting, doing homework together, or having light, sweet make-out sessions. It’s been blissful, yet torturous. He makes me “reveal” things about myself before he’ll kiss me, and it’s slowly driving me insane. He’s gotten all of the ugly details on my past—my mom, my dad, my slew of shithead stepfathers, and Greer.

  If anything good has come out of this, he’s learned that Greer’s actions were not completely unprovoked, and it’s felt good to set the record straight on that with him. I can’t have anyone going around thinking the absolute worst about Greer, especially someone I respect as much as Ransom.

  I swipe over his last text from the night before, remembering how much fun his game of Hot or Not? had been. It started off kind of silly and innocuous—Brad Paisley for me? Nerd Hot! Miranda Lambert for him? Hot! Mullets? NOT! Camel toe? NOT! His last query caused a cold sweat to break out over me. I know exactly how he meant it—playful but seeking all the same … Rope? I stared at the word, my eyes wide, my pulse beating as quickly as the hummingbird’s wings. Hot. And good night! I shot back.

  One word and he had me quivering like the heroine from one of my bodice-ripping, historical romance reads.

  The door opens to the classroom, so I turn my phone off and slip it into a pocket before I pull myself off the wall and enter. After a few minutes, I notice Austin’s still not here for the second class in a row, which is odd because he usually beats me and talks my head off until class starts. Just as our professor begins, Austin slips in the door and slides into the seat beside me. He looks worried, so I mouth, “Are you OK?” He just nods.

  When class ends, I lean over to ask what’s up with him since he didn’t write me the first dirty note today, but before I’m able, I feel someone standing over my desk. Looking up, I almost gasp, as clear, green eyes that are as familiar to me as my own stare down at me, but I don’t know this guy. I fight a shiver at the odd likeness.

  “Umm … hi, Denver,” he says. “I heard you were good with all this history stuff. I was hoping I could buy you a coffee and we could talk … about it.”

  Gotta give him props for his courage, even though I’m a little taken aback. “I have another class now …”

  “Stone,” he supplies. “Yeah, no. That’s fine. We can meet up whenever you’re available. I transferred in late and could really use some help getting caught up. Dr. Anderson said I should speak with you.”

  I glance at Austin, not believing he’s staying quiet, and not interceding with talk of me being Ransom’s girl. He’s staring at his cell and looking thoughtful. Again, totally unlike him.

  Looking back to Stone, I hear myself volunteering to meet up and help him out. We make plans to meet after my last class today. He jots his number down for me in case anything changes.

  My gaze follows him as he exits, and I can’t help thinking he reminds me of my favorite bull rider, which is crazy, because no one compares to John Ransom.

  Focusing my attention back on the oddly contemplative Austin, I say, “Penny for your thoughts.”

  Nothing.

  “Austin Ransom?” I singsong.

  His head snaps back, and he blows a light breath. “Yes, Denver Dempsey?”

  “What’s got you all
quiet and nearly late for class? You OK?”

  He jerks his hand through his shaggy, dark brown hair. “Yeah. Got a lot on my mind. Just thinking.”

  “’Bout what?” I ask, standing to head for the door so I’m not late for my next class.

  He looks serious for a moment before a mischievous glint takes over. “About getting my boner bedazzled,” he says with a lopsided grin.

  My chuckle bounces off the walls. He just stares at me, making my laughter die out. “You’re serious?”

  “Do you girls find that hot? Seriously?”

  “Uh, umm …” I stammer.

  “I’m kidding, Denver,” he replies, letting me off the hook. “Kinda.”

  “What’s made you think of that?”

  “Well, I was hanging with this chick, and while she was in the shower, I grabbed her book. Not a real book, but one of those …” He gestures a swiping motion.

  “E-readers?” I supply.

  He waves an impatient hand. “Yeah, e-readers. And the dude she’s lusting over has an alpaca.”

  I snort. “You mean, apadravya?”

  He finally stands and throws an arm around my shoulders as we move to our next class. “How do you chicks know about this shit? Seriously?”

  I can only laugh. “Those e-books?” He nods. “Very informative,” I state, thinking that if I hadn’t read my own share of them, I’d have been even more blindsided by Ransom and his “interests.”

  “Ah … yeah, so this dude, Ruler—”

  “Rule,” I correct, knowing exactly the pierced hottie that this “chick” was reading.

  “Whatever,” he mumbles. “Rule has a way with the ladies, and apparently that way is fuckhot, in part, due to his piercing. I really don’t know if I’m committed enough to get my junk pierced.”

  “That is definitely something you should be fully committed to,” I agree, just as he flashes me a pierced penis pic from his phone.

  “Oh, God,” I giggle. “That’s a Prince Albert.”

  “Huh?” I glance around, making sure no one’s privy to our conversation.

  “Lemme see,” I say before grabbing his phone, quickly pulling up what he’s looking for, and shoving it back to him. “Apa.”