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“What are you doing? Put me down,” I demanded. “Icanwalk.”
“Not without pain, you can’t.” The veiled growl in his voice sent goosebumps peppering my skin and a rush of warm liquid spilling into my panties. “Don’t ever lie to me again.”
“I-I didn’t lie.”
“Oh, yes, you did. When I asked if you were good, you said, yeah.Thatwas a lie,” he said, pinning me with a scowl. “Don’tdo it again. Understood?”
Like a second cyclone, guilt, defiance, and lust swirled through me.
“Okay, I won’t. But you can’t possibly carry me twelve whole miles.”
“Watch me.” He smirked as if I’d tossed some kind of gauntlet to the ground.
“Fine. It’s your back.”
A low chuckle rumbled from his chest as he stepped through the doorway. Thankfully, the rain had basically stopped. Only a few light sprinkles remained falling from the still darkened sky.
“Don’t worry about my back, darlin’,” he said, striding toward the road. “I bale hay way heavier than you.”
“You’re a rancher?”
“Among other things.”
“What were you doing at that…club?”
“Moving furniture for a friend.”
Something in his tone made me wonder if he was moving it or stealing it.
A part of me wanted to ask, but I was afraid of tarnishing the glowing portrait of chivalry I’d already painted of my gallant savior in my mind. Yes, it was foolish of me to put the rugged cowboy on a pedestal, but he’d proven—in less than an hour—to be more trustworthy than Wesley had in the twenty-eight years I’d known him.
I never understood how or why his father and mine—competing media moguls—had become best friends in the first place. Had they started arranging the wedding between Wesley and me the minute I was born so they could merge their companies and corner the broadcasting market? Why wait? Why arrange our marriage? Why not just do it? It would have been a whole lot easier.
“Any service on your phone yet?” the cowboy asked, dragging me from my thoughts.
I tapped the screen and shook my head. “No.”
“Are you all right? You’re not in too much pain, are you?”
“No. Why?”
“You got quiet on me,” he said, glancing up as the sun began breaking through the clouds.
“Oh, sorry. I was making a mental list of things I need to do,” I lied.
“Like what?”
“Contacting the car rental company. I’m sure there’ll be a mountain of paperwork and all kinds of hoops I’ll have to jump through.”
“Probably,” he said sympathetically. “So, what part of Dallas do you live in?”
“North.”
“North, like Frisco, Addison, or Highland Park?”
“Richardson.”
“Richardson, huh? Did you grow up there?”
