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I grab her hand, and that’s when I notice Zoey’s wearing the cowboy boots I bought her when we went into town. “You look sexy as fuck in those,” I tell her.
“I was thinking the same thing about you, cowboy.” Her sultry voice has my dick springing to life, and I move forward, pushing her against one of the stall doors. In one swift movement, she wraps her legs around my waist, and I cup her ass, our tongues twisting together. I don’t think I’ll be able to stop myself this time because I need her like I need water on a hot summer day.
“Riley,” she whispers, panting. “Fuck me.”
And I’m two seconds away from doing that very thing when I hear an unfamiliar male voice behind me calling Zoey’s name. Immediately she stiffens, her eyes bolt open, and she pulls away. After I set her down, she looks at me with worry in her eyes.
“Zoey, what the fuck are you doing?” he asks, and I turn around and catch a glimpse of an older man wearing a sport coat and slacks, looking out of place.
“Excuse the fuck outta me,” I say, placing my arm around her waist to protect her from this dickhead.
He strides toward us and reaches for her arm, pulling Zoey away. “You need to get over here right now.” He jerks her toward him as if she’s a child, causing my blood to boil. Zoey looks back at me with tears in her eyes.
“Get your hands off her,” I warn, feeling my anger take over as he looks at her with disdain.
The douchebag glares. “You’re nothing but Southern trash,” he spits out.
“Benjamin, don’t,” Zoey demands. Who the fuck is Benjamin?
My heart races and pounds, and I don’t understand what’s going on. A minute ago, we were making out. “Who is this?” I look at her and then glare at him. “Explain, Zoey.”
“I’m her fiancé,” he answers, wrapping his arm tightly around her as if he’s claiming his prize. “And we’re leaving.”
Fiancé? That can’t be right. How can you be engaged to someone if you’re married to another person? I look at Zoey, who’s shaking her head with tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Is that true?” I ask, begging her to tell me what the hell is going on, but she pinches her lips together tightly. Her silence is all I need to know.
I take a step forward, coming face to face with him, not scared in the least bit even though he’s taller than me. The guy looks like he has his balls waxed and nails done once a week. “Yeah, well, you’ve got your hands on my wife, and you’re going to let go of her before I beat the shit outta you.”
Benjamin laughs in my face and jerks Zoey closer to him. Instead of doing what I say, he pushes me, but I barely stumble back. This guy is a grade A pussy.
“Zoey. Get your shit. We’re leaving,” he demands, and in one quick movement, my fist connects with his face.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
ZOEY
“You motherfucker,” Riley says as he throws another punch.
I scream as soon as I see Riley push Benjamin to the ground and jump on top of him, fists being thrown left and right. Benjamin covers his face with his arms, trying to defend himself, but he’s never fought anyone in his entire life. Riley’s destroying him, and I’m not sure who I should feel sorry for at this moment. If Riley continues, Benjamin will get hurt and get his lawyers involved, taking it to a level it doesn’t need to go. I already know how this will end if Riley doesn’t gain control, but I can’t blame him. This is all my fault.
I beg him to stop, screaming and crying, grabbing at his arm before he can take another swing at Benjamin’s face. Somehow, I get through to him, and he stops, but he looks at me with hurt in his eyes, breathing hard. Seeing Riley so upset destroys me.
Riley stands as Benjamin tries to get a hold of reality, cursing and spitting out blood. He looks like total shit, and I know I won’t hear the last of this anytime soon.
Before more words are exchanged, Riley walks away, shaking his hand out as he bends his fingers back and forth. I scream his name, following and not wanting him to go because it feels so final. He turns on his heels and glares at me as if I’m a stranger, someone he doesn’t care to know, and it’s more hurtful than any words he could ever speak.
I wish I could go back and tell him all of my secrets, tell him about Benjamin and the engagement I didn’t want.
“Is it true? You’re engaged to marry him?” he quietly questions me, but he’s heaving with anger. His jaw is so tight, I’m afraid it’ll break.
