“Don’t go in there.”
She looks over her shoulder. “You can’t tell me what to do.”
Fuck, I have to stop her. “Frank’s in there, and I’m too much of a gentleman to repeat what he brazenly said he wants to do to you.”
I have the decency to keep my illicit thoughts to myself. He has no filter and no morals, which makes him dangerous.
“I can handle myself.” She holds her hand up dismissively as she continues to the door.
Hoping for some way to avoid going in there and getting in a fight with Frank, I look idly in the bed of my truck. Before any thoughts process, I’m pulling my lasso out, circling it overhead, and landing it perfectly around Abby.
“Ahhh!” She screams. Her arms attempt to flail, but with a tug, I have them trapped against her body. I hate that the rope is rough and might chafe her delicate skin, but it’s too late to turn back.
“What the hell are you doing?” she yells while stumbling backward as I tug.
Good question. Technically, I’m looping the rope as I’m walking toward her, but that’s not what she’s asking. Exhibiting toxic masculinity is probably the correct answer, but I can’t stop myself.
“I’ve had enough of your sassy little attitude.”
“Maybe I like Frank.”
“Nobody likes Frank. You’re just being spiteful.”
Having gathered all of the slack in the lasso, which is still around her torso, we’re standing body to body. I’ve never been so close to Abby. She’s no match for someone like that scumbag, but what lengths will I go to protect her?
“You can’t just go around lassoing people.”
“Apparently, I can.”
“What now? Throw me over your shoulder and kidnap me so I don’t go near him?”
Why does that sound like the best idea I’ve ever heard? I’m not like that, but she’s doing something to me I don’t understand. With every bit of my soul, I have to protect her.
Bending forward, I wrap my arms around her, throw her over my shoulder, and head to my truck.
Ripping the passenger door open, I set her on her feet.
“I’m taking you back to my place where we’re going to have a little conversation, and if you keep running that smart mouth of yours, I might just spank your ass.”
She laughs, and for a second, I think she likes the idea of me spanking her. It must surprise her too, because she clams up.
“You can’t do that.” Her voice is low and raspy.
If this is luck playing some kind of twisted game with me, I’m fucked. I’m so far down the rabbit hole, I can’t see my way out. “I can and I will. You need to learn a lesson. Now, if I take this lasso off, can I trust you not to run away?”
“You tell me Frank’s dangerous, but he’s not the one kidnapping me.”
“You’ve lived here your whole life. Who do you trust, me or Frank?”
From under her lashes, she looks up at me. She looks so damn cute. She whispers, “You.”
I’m certain that the second I take the lasso off, she’s gonna run straight into the bar, which means I’ll have to follow her to protect her. Dammit.
I loosen the rope and lift it overhead. She hops into my truck, and I figure she’s waiting until I’m on the driver's side to flee. Can I blame her?
I get in, close the door, and she just sits there on the far side of the bench seat. Okay. She’s still in my truck.
I glance at where she’s rubbing her arm. It’s red from the lasso.
