Page 50 of Lost Trust

Two reckless nights after a rodeo.

Two nights when my on-again, off-again relationship was on an off cycle, my judgment was questionable, and Royce Trust was very, very good at making me forget all about the complicated mess in my life.

Apparently, time has done nothing to make him less dangerous.

His mouth curves into a slow, crooked grin. “Rina.”

The way he says my name in that low, gravelly voice makes my stomach flip.

“Trust.”

His gaze moves over me, lingering just long enough to make me aware of it before settling back on my face. “You look good.”

“So do you.”

His grin deepens as he adjusts his hat. “I know.”

I laugh softly and shake my head. “Still as cocky as I remember.”

“That’s good.”

I raise a brow, and he leans in.

“You remember.”

His eyes darken, and a shiver runs through me.

For one fleeting second, it feels like we’re back there again. Younger. Wild. Free of consequences.

Then a small body barrels into my legs.

“Mommy!”

I look down just as Ryder wraps both arms around me.

“There you are.” I crouch, smoothing his little vest and straightening his tie. “Where have you been, cowboy?”

He beams up at me. “I was dancing with Har-wee.”

“You were?”

He nods enthusiastically, his oversize hat slipping sideways over one eye.

Royce chuckles. “That’s one hell of a good-lookin’ hat.”

Ryder looks up at him.

He studies him with the serious consideration only a four-year-old can give a complete stranger. Then recognition sparks in his eyes.

“You’re a bull boy, like my daddy.”

All the color drains from Royce’s face.

I’d laugh at his pure panic if he didn’t look like he was two seconds away from going into cardiac arrest.

His wide eyes shoot to me. “Bull boy?”

“It’s what he calls bull rider cowboys.”