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I wiggle my fingers at Keena, reach for a box of dog treats. “You want one, girl?”
She looks at me, sniffs, then turns and exits the kitchen.
“Don’t worry about Keena,” Davis says, his arms folded across his mile-wide chest. “Sometimes she holds a temporary grudge because she’s dramatic.”
“And I thought Fallon was bad.”
He chuckles and crosses the kitchen to run his hands down my shoulders. “What else do we need?”
I blink at him. “What?”
His eyes drift over my face. “In this kitchen, for you to bake.”
I open my lips to tell him to stop it, but in his gaze, I see myself. I see him six years ago. Angry. Defeated. Broken. And I see what he’s trying to do. Not fix. Push.
“Knives,” I tell him.
“We have knives.”
I scoff and palm his chest. Revel in the feel of his hot, hard muscle. “Good knives, Hotshot. A knife so sharp I can slice an apple mid-air.” I return my attention to the kitchen. “And a mixer. A big one.”
“How about this?” Eyes lit with a wicked gleam, he opens a drawer to expose an ancient hand mixer.
I shudder and pin him with a stern stare. “That is an act of war, Davis Montgomery.”
The deep, velvet sound of his laughter fills the kitchen. It’s so beautiful, so earnest, it loosens the rock in my chest.
“I’ll get you all that and more,” he says, his smile fading. His eyes are now hard, commanding. “But first, I need to talk to you about what happened today.”
I bite my lip, hating to relive today. “I swear I saw him, Davis.”
He’s quiet for a long second, then he says, “I believe you. I put in a call to Richter. He’s going to pull security footage and see if we can spot him.”
“What if he’s in town?” I step closer to him, expecting him to pull away, but he takes me in his arms. “What if he comes to the ranch?”
His hold tightens. “Then you pick up that family-style can of green beans and hit him in the fucking face with it.”
I laugh.
“He won’t get on the ranch. After Ruby—after last year—” Pain and guilt crease his handsome face, and I listen as he tellsme about the arson attempt and how Ruby was hurt because of it.
“Our security is fucking Fort Knox,” he finishes, his voice dropping to a lethal level. “No one gets on the ranch. No one will hurt you. No one will get close enough to try. And…” His large fingers tug at the dog tag around my neck. “You have this. You have me.”
“I have you,” I breathe.
But for how long?
One time, right? That’s how it goes. One night and definitely not forever.
Davis stares grimly at me. “Be a hell of a lot easier if you told me who he was.”
Fear floods my veins and my stomach heaves. “No.”
“Dakota.” He grips my chin gently with his massive fingers. “Tell me his fucking name.”
“Not yet. I can’t.” I glare at him, hating he won’t let me have this one secret. “I have to work my way up to it, Davis.”
And also keep Davis from killing him.
