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  I pause, thinking how this is really a story more about me than her. Denver’s eyes glow with interest. “What did she say?” she prompts, almost giddy.

  “She shook her head and said, ‘No woman stands a chance against your charming self.’ And that if I can convince her, the woman who’s hated all my tattoos to date, but now sees them in a new light, I could charm anyone into anything.”

  Denver runs her hands over my sleeves and follows one of the scrolls with her fingertip. “What did she mean by new light?”

  I release a deep breath and scrunch up my forehead. It’s something I’ve been trying to figure out for a while. “I think she finally understood that I wouldn’t mark my body with something that didn’t mean a great deal to me. Not to mention that once something is meaningful to me—it matters forever. Like she finally got it, and once she did, she respected me even more.”

  She traces the number eight on my forearm before bringing it to her lips briefly. “That’s beautiful. And for the record, I think your tattoos are beautiful too. They’re a part of who you are.” Her eyes twinkle when she looks back to me. “And you can trust me to tell the truth because I’ve never been much for tattoos either.”

  “I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to describe a man’s tattoos as beautiful, Denver,” I joke, hoping to bring a moment of levity to our conversation.

  “And your scars,” she whispers, kissing the healed gash on my chin. “I think your scars are beautiful too. All of that has worked to make you who you are, which is one beautiful man.” Weaving my fingers through her hair, I bring her mouth down to crash on mine. Her surprised gasp works in my favor, as it has her opening up to me immediately, and I waste no time in taking advantage of that. My teeth clash against hers for a moment because I feel like I can’t get deep enough. I feel a surge in her as she gives in and opens fully, letting me devour her. When I pull back, she releases a breath that I work hard to take into me. I want all of her. Every breath. Every tremble. Every sweet word.

  Long, quiet moments pass between us, where it seems like we communicate more to each other than if words had been spoken. I run my hand over her hair, and she runs her hand over my skin, exploring it and learning it.

  “Your mom sounds wonderful. Loving and forgiving. I love how close the two of you are. How you wanted to give her a piece of your forever, however you could. The fact that you’d want to do that for her speaks volumes about the kind of person she is.” She releases a shaky breath.

  “She’s gonna love you,” I reply, because somehow I know that’s eating at her. Like she can’t be loved, and that my mom not loving her would sway the way I feel about her. But I know my mom better than that. And my mom knows me well enough to know I wouldn’t waste my feelings on someone who didn’t deserve them.

  Denver tenses in my arms but doesn’t respond to that declaration. “I should let you get back to work, and I should get back to my book. I probably won’t have time to read it for another week after today.” I glance over her shoulder and grab the book, spinning it around to read the cover. “The Magnificent Rogue,” I read, and she gasps.

  “Hey! Give it here.” She twists trying to take it, but I hold her down easily.

  “Is this what I think it is? A romance novel?” I flip it open with my thumb, and my eyes nearly bug out of my head. “‘His quivering member’? Seriously? And you give me shit about my movies?” I can barely breathe between my laughter and her palms striking my chest as she tries to dislodge herself from my lap. I toss the book on the couch and hug her tight.

  “A badass barrel racer with a secret penchant for romance novels? Who knew?” I continue in my torment of her.

  “Yeah, she’s only outdone by her badass bull rider with a not-so secret obsession with romantic comedies.”

  I pull back swiftly. “What do you mean ‘not-so secret’? No one knows but a select few.”

  “Not anymore. It’s on the Fun Facts about Your Favorite Rodeoers on our Facebook page. You didn’t tell them?”

  “Fucking Austin. I’m gonna kick his ass.”

  “I guess that’s better than him telling everyone you’re a kinky bastard,” she jokes.

  I don’t bother to deny the accusation, but I do find it funny that she’s calling me that already. She has no idea how deep my kink runs. “Austin doesn’t know about that.”

  Her brow furrows. “I thought you said two people knew. I just assumed you meant Pete and Austin.”

  I laugh at her expression. “Yeah, Pete is one and the other is definitely not Austin. ‘Cause you could sure as shit believe it would’ve been listed on the page, and he would make constant innuendoes about it too. I’d never hear the end of that shit.”

  She narrows her eyes at me, and I see mischief playing there. “Wanna get him back without getting physical?” I nod. “Ever heard of an apadravya?”

  Chapter Nine

  Denver

  “ARE YOU DRESSED?” Ransom’s voice thick with need seems to stretch across the few blocks from his apartment to my dorm.

  “Umm … ” I glance down at the short shorts and cami that I usually sleep in. “No, it’s not even light out. I still have my pajamas on.”

  “What are you sleeping in?” If possible, his voice gets even heavier.

  After I tell him what I’m wearing, he mumbles red with a grin in his voice and asks, “Think you can throw something over that and come down real quick?”

  “Uh … yeah. Be right down,” I croak. I disconnect, hop up, throw on my long coat, and slide my boots on, all the while wondering what he’s up to. I make a stop in front of the bathroom mirror and brush my teeth quickly.

  When I exit my building, I spot him immediately across the parking lot, leaning against the back of his truck and looking relaxed. His only tell are those luminous eyes, burning with desire. Tightening my coat around me, I cross the short distance to him. “Hi,” I breathe.

  He doesn’t utter a word, just pulls me to him and kisses me desperately. I cling to the flaps of his corduroy jacket. His fresh scent and spicy-flavored kiss make quick work of my senses, and I’m rubbing myself against him. A low moan escapes me as he tilts his head and grasps my hips tight. The need to breathe overwhelms me, so I pull back a little and place little kisses on his open mouth, pulling in much-needed oxygen.

  “Mornin,’” he whispers against my lips. The corners of his mouth kick up into a lazy, heart-stopping grin. He pulls my head to his chest and runs his hands over my back in a sweet movement, making me feel treasured. I hold on tightly to his shoulders to keep my balance.

  “Why, yes, it is.” Now that I’ve had my fill of him, I’m able to take in the majestic morning. The bluish-gray sky directly contrasts the gleaming white puffs of white clouds, and my favorite—the mountaintops. The tips kissed orange with the promise of the rising sun never fail to bring tears to my eyes. We haven’t had a good snow in a few days, but the colder air has kept the snow frozen in the crevices of the mountain, giving it the appearance of little rivers running down them.

  Ransom nuzzles against my neck, his breath warming me all over. “I wasn’t gonna be able to see you until tomorrow,” he whispers against my ear. “I couldn’t stand it.” I squeeze my eyes tight with his confession. I’d felt the same way, but since I’d made my move last night, I hadn’t wanted to seem desperate.

  “I’m so glad I don’t have to pretend with you,” I tell him, pulling back to focus my gaze on him. “I was miserable with the prospect of not seeing you today, but I didn’t want you to think I was clingy.”

  He laughs, low and deep, and it does crazy things to my insides. “You, clingy? Highly doubtful.”

  “I am desperate for you, though. Is that too scary?” His answering kiss is all I need.

  “Good practice,” Maggie commends me.

  “Yeah, you too,” I reply automatically.

  “Were you even paying attention to me? I don’t think so. Starlight almost bucked me off.”

  “Oh, yeah �
�� no, I saw that. I was talking in general. The rest was good,” I try.

  “Uh, huh,” she seethes, mockingly. “What’s up with you, Denver?” She pauses, her hand on her hip as we walk our horses back to the stable. I let a group of other girls pass us by.

  “It’s too soon,” I finally say when we’re isolated from the group.

  “Too soon?”

  I look to the heavens for some inspiration for this conversation. While being straightforward about most things has always come to easy, being honest about my feelings has always been an issue. Despite the fact that I trust Maggie, the paranoia of having my emotions used against me is ever-present, but that fear had still managed to make me weak and vulnerable, hadn’t it? I pray Ransom’s advice will pay off and try to tamp all that down. “For me to be feeling this way … for Ransom,” I spit out.

  “Well, I think there’s been extenuating circumstances, don’t you?” She rushes on, not allowing me to answer. “You and Ransom relying on each other—and only on each other—in a moment of need, was like a shot of steroids: everything exploded and got magnified, right quick.” I open my mouth to get a word in, but she doesn’t let up. “Here’s the thing, though. The train had already left the station on that one. You and Ransom were already headed there. Only it was gonna take you a lot longer to get here since you’re both as stubborn as mules. I think he’s very good for you, and it’s crazy how he lights up at the mention of you now. I can only hope Pete responds to me that way. Anyway, it may not seem real because it happened so fast, but trust me, what you two are feeling is real.” I keep my mouth closed, waiting for her to go on, running through everything she’d just thrown at me. “Well, are you gonna say something?” she demands, as she throws a lock of her strawberry red hair over her shoulder, her eyes burning electric green.

  Laughing lightly, I tell her my greatest fear, “I think it is real, and I think that’s my hang up. If it’s real … Greer and I are over. There’s no going back, and even after everything, that scares me.”

  “Why, Denver? You said yourself you see no future for you and Greer. You’re beating a dead horse.”

  Oh, I know why. And I know if I say it, Maggie won’t let it go. But I think that’s what I need. I expel a deep breath and prepare, because I know she won’t let me cling to it any longer. “I’m using him again. Well, using his memory to protect me. To protect me from getting hurt all over again.”

  “Yes, you are, honey. And you’re gonna knock that shit off right now,” she deadpans.

  “Yes, ma’am,” I laugh. Oh my God, how I love this woman.

  “Meet you out front?”

  “Yep, see you in a few minutes.”

  Rolling over my admission and struggling over accepting it, I don’t notice the figure leaning on Indy’s stall door until he clears his throat.

  “Hey, Denver,” Greer greets me. “I was hoping we could talk before you head back to school.”

  “Umm … OK, but I rode with Maggie today.”

  “I can drive you,” he offers.

  “No, uh, I’ll just ask her to wait for me. I need to get Indy squared away first.”

  “Yeah, I need to take care of a few things too. I’ll meet you out back at the picnic tables?”

  “Yeah, all right.” He eases off the door and brushes past me without a backward glance. “Come on, girl,” I whisper to Indy. “This talking through feelings shit is getting old quick.”

  After I fire off a text to Maggie asking her to wait, I get the girls settled in and start to head out back. I close Indy’s stall, only to drop my head back with a thud as a nagging thought hits me. Ransom will not be pleased. Shit. After my last talk with Greer, which Ransom was all for, he made me promise not to see him alone. He still doesn’t trust him, and for that, I can’t fault him. I get where he’s coming from, even if I know Greer won’t hurt me again. Maggie’s not a football field away, so it’s not exactly alone. But I also have a feeling that Ransom wouldn’t like to be left out of the loop, and I’m trying to do right by our new relationship.

  I slip my phone out of my pocket. Text or call? I think I could use some of his strength right now, so I don’t consider it anymore, and voice my little assistant to call him. Hearing her repeat his contact name has me felling better already.

  Thuds and loud cheers invade my ear before a muffled-sounding Ransom. “Denver? Hang on.” I hear some shifting and movement, and suddenly it’s quieter. “Still there?”

  “I hope you weren’t in the middle of a match,” I kid. Lord, just picturing him all pumped up and decked out in his boxing gear with sweat beading on his nearly-olive skin, the ripples of his abs, and the badness of his tattoos has me almost swooning. Swooning? I shake my head. Denver Dempsey does NOT swoon.

  “Nah, I’m all set. Last match is going down now.”

  Thrilled with the delay of my troubled phone call, I inquire, “How you’d do tonight?”

  “TKO, round three. Not too shabby. Made a few hundred bucks.”

  And now I’m dying to see Ransom in the ring. I’d heard he was good, even though he doesn’t take on many matches. He tells everyone he uses boxing to stay in shape and sharp during the off-season. I’m pretty sure it’s just the adrenaline junkie in him. “Are you ever gonna let me see you fight?”

  “Don’t get enough of seeing me in action, Denver?” his voices scratches at the barely contained itch I have for him.

  I laugh lightly. This is why I called him. He turns my nauseated stomach into laughter. “I just wanna see you get some sense knocked into your head is all,” I joke.

  “Ah … you’re so not good for my fragile ego.”

  “Fragile? Hmm … I’m relatively sure cocky is a prerequisite for bull riders, and John Ransom is no exception. I happen to know that firsthand.”

  He doesn’t miss a beat. “I think I’ve given you hard proof that I’ve got the goods to back up the cockiness. And,” he sighs, “since I’ve got the goods, that doesn’t make me cocky. That makes me damn good.”

  My head drops back and rolls across the wood as I recall that he does indeed have the goods, and we’ve barely even scratched the surface. “Ladies and gentleman, the one, the only, the over-inflated ego of Ransom,” I boom, before shooting a look around to make sure I’m alone.

  “Baby, I’m enjoying this verbal sparring match, but I gotta say I’m pretty sure that’s not why you called me. Why don’t you go ahead and spit it out.”

  Closing my eyes tightly, I release a world-wearied sigh. “I just wanted to let you know that Greer wants to talk. I’m at the stables, but I’m not alone. Maggie’s waiting for me out front to go back to the dorms.” Silence. “You asked me to let you know when I spoke to him.” Silence. “Ransom?”

  “Yeah, babe. That’s good. I just wish I were there. I don’t trust him. Don’t want you alone with him.”

  “I’m not alone. Maggie’s here,” I remind him.

  “If I’m not with you, you’re alone.”

  I roll my eyes. The sentiment is sweet, if not entirely rational. “Ransom—”

  “That may not make sense to you, but it’s just how I feel. I know y’all need to talk though.”

  “OK … I’m gonna go do that and get it over with.” I wince. Greer deserves better than that. “I just … I want all this awkwardness to be over with, you know?”

  “I know, baby. I’m proud of you. You’re doing great.”

  Warmth infuses what had been ice-cold dread at the thought of hashing through things with Greer. “Thanks. I’ll call you soon.”

  “You’ll call me the minute you’re headed away from the stables.”

  “Yes, sir,” I taunt.

  “Denver,” his voice warns.

  “Kidding. Bye,” I say sweetly before hitting the end button.

  After taking a couple more fortifying breaths, I head out back. The light from the barn casts a long, yellow pool of light so that I can spot Greer, sitting atop the picnic table, his head propped up on closed fists.
I use the short walk to ascertain that he does look better. The dark circles that have been haunting his eyes seem to have lifted somewhat, and the little smile on his face almost reaches his eyes. I sure hope he lets his hair grow back. The short, buzzed look makes him look older and cynical for some reason. I know deep down that he’ll never be that carefree boy again, but I hope he can get some of that back.

  “You’re looking better,” I say with a smile.

  “Yeah,” he gives me a sheepish look. “I’ve been seeing someone. It’s helping.”

  I gasp, completely winded, as if someone punched me square in the stomach. Since I didn’t mean to, my hand immediately flies up to cover my mouth. Oh my God! How could he? So soon after … everything. What the fuck? You’re seeing someone, a little voice taunts. My eyes bulge with unanswered questions. Questions I don’t want the answers to. I just want to run. To get away from him now. I stagger, taking two steps back.

  He gives me a funny look before his face collapses with worry. He jumps down and moves to embrace me before pulling himself up short. His fists clench at his sides. “Denver? Are you kidding me? Not like that. I’m seeing a therapist.”

  My rapid breathing sounds ragged, even to my own ears. That was so not a proper reaction. Even if he had been seeing someone. You don’t react to someone like that if you’re over him. Fuck. Fucking fuck. What does that mean? “Greer, you have every right to see someone. I just want you to be happy.” Sounds like I just gargled glass.

  He squints his eyes at me. “Denver, I’ve never imagined myself with another human being. Ever. A few weeks away from you is not gonna solve that. I can’t even … I don’t know how I would ever want someone else. Not to mention the fact that I need to figure out how I’ve got it in me to do what I did to you.”

  “I’m sorry. That reaction was uncalled for—because you are going to want someone else one day, and when you do, I’ve got to be all right with that. More than that, I’ve got to be happy with it. Because, more than anything else, you deserve to be happy.”

  The skin around his eyes tightens, and his eyes glisten. “You think the man who raped you deserves to be happy?”