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Slowly, so very slowly, he lifts his thumb and strokes the corner of my dimple. The movement is so unexpected that I lurch back, and when I hear the next words out of his mouth, I regret jerking away so fast.
His teasing grin fades faster than a Texas sunset, all too quickly, and then—it’s gone. “I let you win because it always made you smile, and I would’ve done just about anything to see those dimples.”
16
SO CLOSE
WYATT
“It’s official,” Dakota says, dropping a fifty-pound dumbbell in the open-air gym. “I hate farmer’s walks, but we’re not stopping.”
“No, ma’am. We’re not.”
It’s hot as hell out, but I don’t mind. I’d rather sweat my ass off than freeze in the winter. We’ve been working out for over two hours, doing planks, burpees, and lunges. I’m exhausted, but if Dakota’s not quitting, then neither am I. When she sets her mind to something, she’s an unstoppable force that I wouldn’t dare try to tame.
The sweat’s dripping into her eyes, so I toss her a towel that she catches with ease. “You’ve got to work on your grip strength, and carrying around fifty-pound dumbbells is one of the best ways to do that.”
“I know, but it doesn’t mean I have to like them.” She wipes the sweat off her forehead, a corner of her mouth hooking up, but her lips ultimately stay in a frown.
I’m so close to getting one of her beautiful smiles, so close, and I want it bad.
“Okay, that’s it,” Dakota says. “What’s next in Patterson’s workout from hell? Plank holding for eternity?”
My teeth clash together. Her calling me by my last name isn’t all that much better than “sugar,” but I shrug it off. “Next, we stretch. Your body needs a break.”
She salutes me with two fingers. “Yes, sir.”
Goddamn.
The way she says yes, sir makes me a little hard, and that combined with how her thick thighs are splayed wide open on the mats has me imagining some very ungentlemanly things, which isn’t helping the situation.
She squirts water all over her face, making her tan skin glisten. I zone in on the droplet sliding down her neck, dipping to her collarbone, and heading straight between her… I rip my eyes away to the guy grunting on the leg press.
Her strong body is slick with sweat from the intensity of our workout, but I refuse to let my eyes veer from her face. My parents always said if a woman’s looking you in the eye, you better be looking back. It requires a massive amount of restraint not to let my gaze drop down her body, but I’m nothing if not restrained when it comes to her.
I clear the gravel in my throat. “So, how about we—”
A man whoops in the distance, drawing our attention. We turn our gazes to the training arena where some of the newer bull riders are practicing. She watches one of the guys bucking on the back of a bull with pinched brows. Her eyes are locked on them, and mine are on her.
She’s mouthing, counting to herself, and when she reaches eight, she curses when the guy jumps off the bull, and everyone ropes the animal.
“Goddammit,” she mutters, standing from the mats. “I rode that same bull last week and couldn’t stay on, but that boy had no problem lasting eight seconds.”
She grits her jaw, and the way she beats herself up tugs at this need I’ve always had to make her feel better, so I gently grip her sweaty shoulder.
I’m shocked when she doesn’t pull away. “Hey, you’re strong, and you’re only going to get stronger this summer with all our training. I’ll make sure of it. You’ve got everything it takes to make it on those aggressive bulls.”
“Not enough, apparently,” she mutters. “I’ve only got six weeks until the rodeo, and if I don’t make it then, everyone’s going to be patting me on the back and saying, ‘I’m proud of you for trying.’ Fuck that. I want to be the best.”
Dakota tries to pull out of my grasp, but I refuse to let her go this time, so I grip her tighter. Her brows shoot up, and she seems surprised by the motion, but I force her to look at me by tilting her chin.
“Listen up,” I command. She goes rigid. “Yeah, you’ve got to work harder to get on their level, but you’ve got something they don’t. Grit, and that’ll take you far. Success is made of a hell of a lot more grit than luck. People respect that. We’ll get you on the right macros, keep training in the gym, and you’ll be ready for the bigger bulls.”
She nibbles her bottom lip, suddenly looking like the little girl who stole my heart with one crooked smile. “You really think so?”
“I know it.” I squeeze her again. “I’ll always bet on you, Dakota Cutler.”
I keep my hand on her shoulder, and she doesn’t pull away. She gazes up at me with something like gratitude shining deep in her brown eyes.
